Just then, footsteps sounded. Vidal stepped in front of her just in time to block the view as a pair of Talons strode past, in marching formation. He saluted, and Zofi shut her eyes and pressed her face against his back, praying nobody stopped long enough to notice two pairs of legs where there should’ve been one.

She was just about to reach for another boost when the Talons called a greeting and continued to march. When they rounded the far corner, she and Vidal exchanged worried glances and hurried in the opposite direction.

“We won’t last long with this many patrols around,” Vidal murmured.

“There.” Zofi pointed at a plain wooden door. A storage closet of some kind. Vidal yanked it open, and they both stared at the space within. It contained several buckets, some cleaning cloths, and a stack of soap bars almost as tall as Zofi.

“You won’t fit,” Vidal was saying, just as they heard more footsteps, from a different corridor this time, perpendicular to the one in which they stood.

“Find Akeylah,” Zofi murmured, climbing over the buckets into the closet. She had to stand with a foot in each bucket and lean behind the tower of soap to squeeze inside. “Tell her where I am.”

He hesitated, but the footfalls left him with no choice. Vidal wedged the door shut, and Zofi held her breath against the astringent soap smell, waiting.

By the time Vidal returned, Zofi’s legs had cramped and she’d lost feeling in the arm she was balancing on the soap shelf.

“Quick,” Vidal said as he yanked open the door. “We’re between patrols.”

Zofi nearly tripped out of the closet in relief and scurried after him to a narrow passage, which led down a series of stone steps. They curved under the alder tower, and eventually turned into a muddy tunnel. Finally, Vidal pointed her toward what looked like a solid rock wall. “Akeylah’s in there,” he said. “I’ll wait out here, guard your backs.”

Zofi approached the wall. Stared at it for a while, until she noticed the cool breeze drifting through hairline cracks around the edges. She gripped one of the protruding rocks, hanging on by her fingernails, and tugged.

A hidden door swung outward, and she crossed inside, heart in her throat.

In the center of the room stood Akeylah and Ren. Alive. Unharmed.

“Zofi…” Akeylah couldn’t even finish her sentence.

Zofi raced forward and flung her arms around her sister. An instant later, Ren wrapped her arms around them both, and Zofi shut her eyes, let herself savor the embrace, just for an instant.

“You’re both safe,” Zofi said, throat tight.

“Safe is a relative term,” Ren replied, voice muffled where her face was pressed against the scarf Zofi still wore around her curls.

“But compared to Father and Rozalind…” Akeylah broke from the embrace first, pain scrawled across her face.