"So, was it even worth it?" Finna asks. "That can't be healthy for your brain. Your eyes are still floating."

I rub my eyes. They really do feel like they might pop out of my head at any moment. The salty, acrid stench of ozone sticks to the insides of my mouth and I smack my lips, trying to get rid of it.

"Folke has turned into an imbecile," Rworg says, casting his eyes down. He grabs both of my shoulders and sighs a deep sigh. "We will remember you as you were."

"Goo," I say, letting my tongue hang out of my mouth.

Finna screams, a haggard howl of desperation. "So help me, I will—"

She can't get any further as Hearn bumps her with his elbow. "Relax, it was a pretty good bit."

Finna blinks twice. Rworg turns to stare at Hearn, and even the old man himself seems surprised. He coughs into his fist, eyes flicking this way and that. "I think I breathed in some as well. Sorry."

Finna rolls her eyes and puffs out her cheeks. She sighs a long sigh, chin on her chest. "Just tell me you figured out something."

"I did," I say. We've probably pushed it far enough for now, and I guess we really do have a mission to accomplish. "I think we were searching for the ambronite Henna mentioned. We'll need it for something. Either the mana is so thick the runes won't be enough, or we're going to run out of them."

Finna twists her mouth around. "Not that much of a revelation, was it?"

"Well, I thought it was worth a shot. Could you lead us to the place that we were going last? Maybe we could get there faster now that we know we're going there?" I say.

"I… guess," Finna says. "I did manage to lead us here."

"How did we end up there if we did not know we were going there?" Rworg asks, furrowing his brow. He raises a hand to scratch at his bear, but lowers it back down as Finna throws him a dirty look.

"Now you want to get all philosophical about something?" Finna says. "What happened to hitting everything with a hammer?"

"I am capable of both," Rworg says.

I rub my eyes and press both hands on my temples to ease the pressure. I wonder if this is what it feels like for her all the time. They continue bickering, but it's still hard to concentrate as my thoughts race in my head. Memories of Lille, Gran, Bann and Lian, even Lictor. I wonder what he is doing in that company.

Hearn snaps shut his notebook. "Are you all done? Have you two bickered enough? Folke, ready to move again?"

The sound jerks me from my thoughts. I breathe out, pushing my lungs as empty as I can. When I breathe back in, my head feels clearer already. "I am. Let's go."

The city had weeds pushing up through the cobblestones. Trees and potted plants lining the streets. Kerthar's wild and shifting nature was still nature.

These corridors have nothing.

Only black stone, motes of light, more and more, all the same. Exactly as Rworg told us in his story. The stone is the same everywhere.

Walking through the corridors doesn't feel like walking at all. The only details are intersections or a new corridor splitting off from the one we're walking in. Sometimes I can't be sure if I'm moving anywhere at all, even though my legs move and my feet hit the ground.

I think the others are feeling it too. Sometimes Finna spurts ahead for a few steps and waits for us to walk to her. Other times Rworg walks slower to watch us walk ahead and then catches up in a couple of long strides. I wish I had brought a pebble from Jonun, that I could kick before me as we walk. The next time I see something loose, I'm going to grab it just for that.

Finna takes the lead again. We pass areas of slower time, where the light fades to dark red. At one point, time carves a wedge out of the corridor. We have to press ourselves against the wall to pass by a pitch-black area cutting most of the corridor off. We sprint past the areas of slow time and rest in one spot where the time flows faster. Everyone seems relieved, the pressure of the mana becoming lighter, clearing my head.

"You think we're going to see anything except these stupid tunnels?" Finna asks as we sit in our small shelter.

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We're surrounded by black walls on every side, the light cutting out where the speed of time changes. We can't see outside, but we're still safe. If we run in while being pursued, we could rest for a year before someone from the outside got in.

"Not tunnels. Corridors," Rworg says. "All tombs are different, but they are all quite the same."

Finna sighs.

For once, Rworg seems exasperated. He frowns and pulls on his ponytail. "You know what I mean," he says finally.

"Yeah, I guess so," Finna says. "Not many sights to be seen, eh? And even if you know of some more, you can hold on to them by yourself," she says to Hearn.

Hearn smiles, like old people do. The expression reminds me of Gran. I hope she's still alive when I get back. It's a silly thought, as I've been gone for maybe eight days in total. With all the Rides and time being weird down here, there's no chance of her dying of old age suddenly.

Still, age is not the only danger up above. There's no way to know how deep the Kertharians managed to get into Velonea. How many of their raiding parties were already across the border before we froze them. Still, our village is near Tenorsbridge. There's no way the Kertharians could have reached that far. Now that I had the thought, it's going to haunt me until I get home and see everyone is safe.

"You're zoning out again," Finna says.

I smile, shaking my head. "Just the normal amount. I was thinking of home."

"That'll do it," Hearn says, still smiling. He glances over his shoulder, perhaps to the direction where Jonun is, but who can say at this point. "I hope my son still lives when I get back."

"That's…" Finna says, but seems she can't think up a way to finish the sentence. She pulls out a dagger and inspects its blade, squinting at it in the dim light.

Hearn waves his hand. "You get used to it. Meeting old friends and them being exactly as you remember them when they left, a decade ago."

Finna wrinkles her nose, grinding the blade against the stone floor. "Do you, though?"

Hearn shrugs.

Rworg sighs. He looks up, the direction to his home clearer than Hearn. For him, the way is even longer, though. Thirty years, no matter which road he takes.

Finna and I reach over to pat him on the shoulder from both sides. Our eyes meet and she looks away. Despite her complaining and posturing, she's one of us. I smile at the thought, and she glances back at me. The corner of my mouth twitches as I consider whether I should look away or smile at her.

Her face stays still as she holds my gaze, but then Rworg grabs us both under his arms. He sighs again and presses down, squeezing me against his chest. I hear a muffled squeak from his other side, and Finna's leg kicks out into the air.

Rworg squeezes again. "When we're old, I'll introduce you to my children. You can teach them archery and you independence," he says.

"You have children?" Hearn asks.

"I have better things to teach than independence" Finna says, sliding out from Rworg's grip.

I don't know how she did it. I'm still completely stuck under his arm. I wheeze and pat his thigh in a sign of surrender.

"Yes!" Rworg says, letting go off me to raise his hands high into the air. "Three strong and beautiful sons and daughters!"

Finna scoffs, straightening her clothes after getting crushed. "They are going to have a grandpa for a dad," she says.

Rworg laughs and reaches to slap Finna on the shoulder, but she jumps out of his reach.

"You never told us you have children," I say. I wonder if Mandollel has. He at least has a father. Who will tell him that his son is frozen and insane? How will the elves react to the news? At least we still have the Time Gem. If it's as important as Mandollel made it sound, we can bring it back to the elves to placate them. What's thirty years to them, anyway?

"A warrior talking of their children before battle is bad fortune," Rworg says. "We are past fighting. These corridors hold no enemies."

Finna sighs and squats down. "A rare double jinx," she says, jumping up and flicking her legs while still in the air. "You remember every other time someone has said something like that so far? Ready to go, you all?"

I pull my knees to my chest, squeezing them with my arms to stretch my thighs. We're not rushing anymore like in Kerthar, but the constant walking is still making my legs stiff. "Ready."

Rworg rises and offers a hand to Hearn. He grabs it and Rworg pulls him up. Hearn groans as he rises. "You young people don't know how easy you have it," he says with a chuckle.

Rworg pats him on the shoulder. "It is our duty to make sure they live to experience it."

"Watching you do nothing but stupid crap is taking decades off my life," Finna mutters.

Unlike I suspected, we don't immediately run into some undead bone beasts, even after Rworg's words. Instead, the mana keeps getting thicker.

Finna winces and clenches her teeth together more with every step.

When she grimaces so hard I can see the missing molar, the gap in her otherwise surprisingly white teeth, on the right upper side of her mouth, just below the dimple. I wave for us to stop. My mind is starting to muddle as well, thoughts spinning and running away from me. "It's getting tough, should we break out one of the runes?" I ask.

"I can feel it too," Hearn says.

I wait for him to continue, but he seems lost in thought, blinking and gazing at his palm as he opens and closes his fingers.

"I could take the headache, but not you like this. Do it," Finna says. She sits and leans her head into her hands, pressing down on her temples.

Rworg hands me the container Henna gave us. It's heavy, made of coarse iron, like the arrowheads that I got from Tenorsbridge. I open the lid and all the runes light up, shining bright blue. The runes are carved into slabs of shiny dark stone, that resembles the corridor walls. I wonder how the jonungaard managed the carving, perhaps with using another piece of the same stone, but it doesn't matter at the moment.

I press my lips together to focus. I grab one of the runes, slamming the lid closed. The rune gets warm in my hand. If this continues, it's going to be burning hot in minutes.

The air clears up, and with it, my mind. I take a deep breath in and see Finna and Hearn do the same. Rworg's arms relax, the muscles smoothing out as he stops pressing his fingers into the shaft of the hammer. The rune burns blue in the small fragment of black stone, pulsing softly.

Finna stands back up and shakes her head. "At least it works quickly. Let's hope it lasts."

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