“It’s not a what. It’s a where,” I said. “It’s a word in the old language. That’s all I could think of every time I heard it. But that’s what the Liberator was expecting. Most people only use the New Standardized Language that was adopted after the Progression, at least officially. But the anarchists are using the old language for their codes.”

I stopped in front of the fountain. There was no one around. Most of the patroi would be in the pyramid now, working. If we were going to leave, we’d have to leave now.

“So Elytherios is a place? But how are we supposed to find it?”

“Gitrin left us a key.” As I spoke, I opened a System panel and began entering commands.

“And this fountain…?”

A few swipes and the water stopped flowing abruptly. I turned to Isaak. “It’s a postern. It was transporting hot water from the volcanic region northeast of here. That’s how we heat the subterranean villas. But right now we’re going to use it”—I closed the System panel with a quick movement of my hand—“to bring us to Elytherios.” As the water drained from the basin, I took my medallion from around my neck and pressed it into the posternkey. It sprang open, unfolding and unfurling, humming with blue electricity. The postern glowed in response to its commands.

Isaak grinned. “The geroi are the fools, Nadin. I’m pretty sure you’re a genius.”

My face flushed. I turned away from him, stepping gingerly into the shallow puddle of water that remained at the bottom of the basin. “We only have one key, so you’re going to have to hold onto me,” I said, hesitantly reaching my hand out to him.

He nodded his head and took my hand. The postern began to glow brighter, the multicolored lights blending together until they were white and nearly blinding. I kept my fingers tightly clamped around Isaak’s and stepped forward.

Traveling by postern was never pleasant, though it was quick. For one searing moment, I could feel my atoms being ripped apart, squeezed through an incomprehensibly small space, then pieced back together. My knees felt weak as the brightness dimmed; Isaak staggered forward, and I had to brace myself against him to keep him from falling. I stood still, waiting for my head to stop spinning while Isaak fought to catch his breath.

Finally, I chanced a look around. We were still underground, but these caverns looked different than the ones beneath Hope Renewed. Instead of the blue-gray rock I was used to, the cavern walls were a rich brown, rough-looking and pockmarked. Rippled lines formed irregular curves, rounded gaps in the ceiling that let light filter in. Against the wall behind us stood the tall transportation postern we’d traveled through.