Rivasoa said like she was reciting, “The most ancient part of any city is its foundations. And tunnels connect, singer.” She eyed Orfeus. “Fox,” she corrected, even though Orfeus wasn’t wearing her mask right now. “All things connect. If you walk long enough in the dark, you’ll find a way into the ancient places.”

Orfeus glanced around the tunnel. Lights glowed about every hundred metres, lending a dim glow to the place, supplemented by small algae sconces to purify the air. Overall though, after the rainbows that blazed outside, the dimness hurt her eyes.

“Walking in the dark doesn’t sound that great,” she said.

Rivasoa held up one hand, fingers upright. Light welled and bubbled from it, calm and gold and swelling.

Orfeus watched her motions, then nodded. She tapped her foot against the ground in the quick one-two-step that was as far as she’d ever gotten into tap dancing, and held up her hand. Light enveloped it, though hers burned closer to red.

Rivasoa’s eyes glowed the red back at her, wide and startled. She opened her mouth, then closed it, shaking her head.

They walked along through storm tunnels magic-lit. “Do you even know where we’re going?” Orfeus said, and glanced at Rivasoa. Her eyes were threaded serenely with blue. “Ha. Never mind.”

After ten minutes in the tunnels Rivasoa stopped in front of a circular door, shabby and far from any lights. Orfeus stopped too, then glanced at Rivasoa, whose eyes were distant. Orfeus sighed and dropped her own smaller red light, shaking out her hands. She strained at the door till it opened, then shoved it aside. Rivasoa stepped through.

Orfeus followed. The arch of her right foot twinged in remonstration. “Yes, I know,” Orfeus said. Rivasoa didn’t glance at her at the incongruous comment. Orfeus stepped a little closer to her, to rely on her light instead. She had far more Blood power than she’d ever had before, combined with all the new techniques and experience she’d gained training and on missions for the Order, but there was no point burning herself out.

Five, ten minutes through a narrower, more crawling tunnel, unlit, water murmuring past under a rusted grill that served as a catwalk. Then Rivasoa stopped and stooped, and on hands on knees she moved through a small tunnel. Orfeus puffed out a breath and followed.

Rivasoa had dropped her light when she started crawling. Orfeus followed her through the dark, trying not to think about how close the tunnel was, scraping at her shoulders as she moved, painful on her hands and knees. It would be so easy to be ambushed or misled down here.

She’d made the decision to trust this woman. There was no going back now, though she still made sure to memorise the route.