“You didn’t have breakfast,” Jet says.

“Yesterday’s breakfast,” Arryn says. Under her breath, she adds, “And every breakfast I’ve ever eaten.”

My embarrassment disappears and I press my lips together to keep from smiling as Arryn gives Dante a light, friendly punch on his bare arm—apparently her version of farewell— and walks away.

“Guess we’ll see you all later,” I say, before hurrying alongside Cami to catch up with our impatient guide.

“Lyss,” Kael calls out. I look over my shoulder but don’t stop walking as he repeats what he said earlier, but with more emphasis this time. “Be careful.”

I don’t say anything, but I do raise my fingers and salute him—almost mockingly, I’ll admit—before turning back around and shaking my head at his overprotectiveness. Just because I understand doesn’t mean I don’t find it stifling. I’ll try to be as compassionate as I can, help tease him out of his worried moods when needed, but he needs to accept that our situation with both Lengard and the new Speaker group is uncertain and dangerous. And with that acceptance, he needs to remember one important thing:

I’m dangerous, too.

Last night, I made mistakes. But I also kicked ass. I can admit that now. We might not have succeeded in our mission, but I used my ability in ways I never have before. And while, at times, I struggled, it was also … liberating. Not once did I feel like a monster, not once did I feel like my power was the enemy.

I mull over this as Cami and I follow Arryn down the dimly lit tunnel. Her strides are swift enough that I have trouble limping along at the same pace, and with a tight, unimpressed look, she slows down—slightly.

“Are you going to tell us the plan now?” I ask, partly to keep my mind off the renewed throbbing in my thigh, but mostly because I’d like an explanation.

“No.”

I grit my teeth and reach out to grab her arm, but she jumps away from me, violently. I jerk backward as if I’ve hurt her, even though I know I didn’t even make contact.

“Don’t touch me,” she says. Her voice is firm, but there’s no fear or anger or other emotion in it. Just a simple order.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, wondering what she might have been through to cause such a reaction. “I—”

“I’ll explain in a minute,” she interrupts. “Just—Just please be quiet and follow me.”

It’s the “please” that has me shutting up and doing what she’s asked. Cami, too, walks in silence a step behind me. We remain this way until we reach the three-pronged fork. I automatically continue down the tunnel that leads to the ancient elevator that will take us topside.

“Not that way,” Arryn says, and I realize I’ve stepped ahead without her.

I pause. “But … this is the way to the exit.”

Arryn is peering back down the tunnel we’ve just traveled, before turning to the one on the right and doing the same, listening intently. In a whisper so low that I can barely hear her, she says, “It’s not the only exit. Hurry. And whatever you do, don’t light the path.”