Kael didn't think. He reacted.

  The silver light exploded from him in a wave, slamming into the cat in mid-air and hurling it back. The creature landed on its feet, hissing, its starry fur bristling. But Kael was already moving. He grabbed Lyra with one hand, Finn with the other, and ran—straight through the back wall of the pipe.

  Or rather, the wall wasn't there anymore. The silver light had reduced it to dust.

  They burst out into a wide cavern, the ceiling lost in darkness. Old mining equipment rusted in piles around them—carts on their sides, picks embedded in the walls, chains hanging from long-abandoned winches. This was even deeper than the Warrens. The Deep Mines, where no one had gone for centuries.

  Behind them, Arcturus's voice echoed through the tunnel. "Clever. But you can't run forever, little vermin. I can feel that creature's Aether from miles away. You're a beacon in the dark."

  Kael kept running, pulling the others with him. The silver light was fading now, and with it, his enhanced senses. The world was going dark again, contracting back to what his normal eyes could see. He felt Vex retreating, exhausted by the effort.

  *Sorry. * The thought was weak, fading. *So hungry. Need... rest... *

  "It's okay." Kael gasped, his lungs burning. "Rest. I've got this."

  He had absolutely no idea how he was going to keep that promise.

  The Deep Mines were a labyrinth.

  Kael quickly lost all sense of direction. The tunnels branched and merged, rose and fell, doubled back on themselves in ways that made no sense. Some were lined with the skeletons of ancient supports, long since rotted. Others were raw stone, carved by water or something else entirely.

  They ran until Kael's legs gave out. He collapsed against a wall, dragging air into his lungs, his vision swimming. Lyra sank down beside him, her face pale, her breath coming in short gasps. Finn was in worse shape—he'd never been as good at running, had always been the one who stayed behind while Kael did the dangerous things.

  "We need to stop," Lyra said. "Finn can't go much further."

  Kael looked at his friend. Finn's face was gray, his lips tinged with blue. The air down here was thin, Kael realized. They were deeper than anyone had gone in generations. The Gilded might not even know these tunnels existed.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "Just for a few minutes," he agreed. "Then we keep moving."

  They sat in darkness, listening to their own breathing. The spiral on Kael's arm had gone dark, the stars within it still. Vex was deeply asleep, he could feel it—like a presence in the next room, faint but there.

  "What are we going to do?" Finn asked eventually. His voice was hoarse, scraped raw by fear and running. "We can't stay down here forever. We'll starve. Or suffocate. Or something will find us."

  "I don't know." Kael stared into the darkness. "But up there, they'll definitely find us. And they'll kill us. Or worse—they'll cut Vex out of me and feed on its power for another thousand years."

  "Vex?" Lyra looked at him. "You named it?"

  "It named itself. Sort of." He touched the spiral. "It's a Primordial, I think. One of the first beings. The Gilded trapped it under the Spire and used its power to build their city."

  Finn sat up straighter. "How do you know that?"

  "It told me. In a dream. Or whatever it was." Kael shook his head. "There are more of them. Sixteen others, trapped under Gilded cities. Vex wants to free them."

  "Of course it does." Finn laughed bitterly. "Because your life wasn't complicated enough."

  A sound echoed through the tunnel—distant, but unmistakable. Footsteps. Many of them.

  They were still being hunted.

  Kael pushed himself up, ignoring the protest of his muscles. "We need to move. Now."

  They ran again.

  Hours later—or maybe minutes, time had lost all meaning—they found the light.

  It was faint at first, just a subtle shift in the absolute blackness. Kael thought he was imagining it at first, his eyes playing tricks after so long in the dark. But it grew as they approached, resolving into a soft, golden glow.

  The tunnel opened into a chamber, and Kael stopped so abruptly that Lyra crashed into him.

  There were people here.

  Dozens of them, maybe hundreds. They sat in small groups around flickering fires, their faces gaunt, their clothing little more than rags. They looked up as the three children stumbled in, and Kael saw no surprise in their eyes—only weary acceptance.

  "Well, well." A voice cut through the silence. "Fresh meat."

  A woman stood and walked toward them. She was older than anyone Kael had ever seen, her face a map of wrinkles, her back bent with age. But her eyes were sharp, and they fixed on Kael with unsettling intensity.

  "You're the one," she said. "The one who broke the Spire."

  Kael tensed. "How do you know about that?"

  The woman laughed, a dry, rasping sound. "Child, we're not cut off down here. We hear things. The Gilded are in an uproar. They've sent their best hunters. And you—" she pointed a gnarled finger at his arm, "—you've got something they want."

  Kael instinctively covered the spiral with his other hand.

  "No need to hide it." The woman's eyes gleamed. "I can feel it. We all can. That thing you're carrying... it's old. Older than the Spire. Older than the city. Older than humans, maybe."

  Lyra pressed closer to Kael. "Who are you?"

  The woman smiled, revealing gaps where teeth should have been. "We're the Forgotten. The ones who failed the Rite so long ago that the Gilded stopped counting us. We came down here to die, and instead, we found a different kind of life." She gestured at the chamber. "Welcome to the Deep Home."