“If you wanted to go back, you wouldn’t be whispering. You don’t want to be stuck in some dorm room any more than I do. We’d just be twiddling our thumbs while Amber and Julio get lost down here, looking for your girlfriend.”

I grit my teeth, glancing back the way we came.

“Don’t worry about your friends. Doug won’t be looking for them. He’ll be too busy looking for us. They’re safer this way anyway.”

Torn, I give the tunnel behind me one last look. It all but disappears beyond the glow of the flashlight.

“I’m doing you a favor,” she says with a shrug, “but if you don’t want to come, don’t let me stop you.” She slides her bow over her shoulder and starts walking, taking her flashlight with her. I follow, still feeling the pull to go back. But she’s right. If they’re all busy worrying about me, I’ll only slow them down.

“Where are we going?” I ask as the tunnel narrows, forcing me to walk behind her. I duck my head to avoid smacking it on the stalactites hanging from the low ceiling.

“The Winter wing should be about a quarter mile north of us.”

My chest feels tight, the walls too close around me, as I consider how easy it would be to get lost down here. To wander through the maze of tunnels until the battery in her flashlight dies and this place becomes one big tomb.

Kai pauses, shining her light at her compass when we come to a fork in the cave. “There’s an incinerator duct behind the kitchens under each wing,” she explains. “We can climb up and hide in the Winter dorms until we figure out where they’re holding Fleur.”

“I thought you wanted to find your sister. Isn’t her wing directly above us?”

“My sister’s a Winter,” she says, picking a tunnel and disappearing ahead of me.

“A Winter?” I jog to keep up, stubbing my toe on a rock. “How?” It’s rare for siblings to come to the Observatory as Seasons. I’ve only ever known of one set, twins who came together after an accident when their car skidded off a bridge and plunged into an icy creek. Gaia made them both Winters, assigning them to adjoining regions so they could stay close.

“My sister and I died together. A house fire,” Kai explains. “When Gaia found us, we agreed to go with her, but we didn’t understand the cost. That we would be different, separated forever. She even put us in different hemispheres. I haven’t seen her since.” Kai picks up her pace as the tunnel widens.

“When was that?”

“Christmas Eve, 1973.”