Awa slipped Bal the smoked fish and crumble bread she’d stolen from the feast basket. They were both starving, sleepy, and Awa wanted to curse. The enclave had marched day and night, in and out of Mama Zamba caves and ravines, with only brief pauses for water and nuts. Now they paddled in several barges across a cold underground lake. Under what ground and toward which stars Awa couldn’t say. She was a mapmaker and hated feeling lost.

Awa was sixteen, a grown woman, and Isra still kept her in the dark. They headed to a secret crossroads, a ceremonial ground where Sprites might become Elders, if they couldn’t wait until the next big gathering of the clans. Jod and two other Sprites had decided to be shadow warriors. Waiting two years for the sweet desert gathering would be punishment, so Yari and Isra agreed to let them cross over early. However, Jod and his comrades, Cal and Neth, had to prove themselves exceptional. Yari dug up shadow warrior scrolls and prepared tricky questions. Isra dragged the enclave to a little-known region to test their scouting skills. If Jod, Cal, and Neth failed to stay hidden for a day, they would have to wait for the clan gathering to become Elders.

The underground lake was blue-green, liquid turquoise. Probably beautiful if your belly was full and your feet weren’t throbbing. The air was thick and warm—the breath of an exhausted beast. Sunlight streamed from tree-lined holes in the ledges above them, illuminating gray, bronze, and red walls. The cave’s wrinkled surface called to mind elephants wallowing in mud and spraying each other with clay.

A dream image—Awa was paddling in her sleep. Jerking awake, she ducked before hitting vines and strings of rock hanging over the lake. More wasted beauty. Why come this way? The barges passed into deep darkness, and Awa shivered. Isra had to know a better route. For some reason, vie wanted everyone to feel lost. Elders kept so many secrets and hidden scrolls. Awa was too tired to be annoyed. She’d be mad later when she had more energy.

This dark passage was the longest so far with no one lighting a torch. Something red smoldered up ahead—a bed of coals? Would Awa have to walk barefoot over fiery rocks to get out of the cave? Father’s thoughts, not hers, still plaguing her. Awa gripped Bal, who was calm, in shadow-warrior form, singing a rhythm for the paddlers. Awa leaned into that. Even so, when the barge bumped solid ground, she shrieked.