In total darkness, I cloaked us with a spell of silence. Unlike my mother’s spell on Gloria, it allowed us to speak, but it smothered any sound we made from outside ears. I wasn’t sure what the creatures that hunted us were, but I hoped they couldn’t detect magic. I stayed close to the door anyway and prepared myself to attack.

Footsteps scuffled past the door, and I held my breath. When they continued down the hall, I gently released it.

“They know we’ve escaped the dungeons,” Ryder said. “It won’t be long before they send the Handmaidens after us.”

“Yes,” I agreed. My stomach turned. “Arion can’t distract them forever.”

“This place is a maze,” Walker said. “It’s like it was designed to be difficult to navigate.”

“What better way to keep prisoners inside?” Cady asked.

“Itisa maze,” I mused, “which means there could be multiple ways to get out.”

“There are more dead ends, too,” Walker added. “If we had a map, though, we might be able to get to Arion and Elle while avoiding the Handmaidens.”

Cady gasped. “I could try!” Hope brightened her voice. “I mean, we’re underground, right? Maybe I can get a sense of the place like I did the Warlock Cave.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Keep your senses open for access to the ripple on this side of the dimension as well.”

Cady hesitated. “Oops. I nodded then realized no one could see me.”

I summoned a ball of flame and searched for a lantern. As I waved the flame around, gray eyes stared into mine.

I barely choked down my scream.

My friends gasped. I willed my flame to burn brighter and studied the huddled figure who looked vacantly back at me. The ancient witch sat in a simple, but more cleanly cot than those of the guards, beside a rickety, wooden bedside table. She made no move to attack, though I sensed the barest whiff of magic from her. I swept my eyes over the rest of the quaint room but found only a dusty bookshelf.

“Is it time already?” the witch croaked.

Cady opened her mouth, but Walker clamped a hand over it. The witch’s eyes failed to track the motion. I waved a hand in front of my face and the witch only blinked. In the better light, her eyes were not only gray but also milky.

She was blind.

“No,” I said in a blessedly steady voice. “Just checking in.”

“Oh.” The witch smiled and revealed blackened teeth. “How nice. Did my mother send a message?”

Mother? This witch is old enough to be my great grandmother.

“Yes,” I said hesitantly. “She wishes you well.”

Tears pooled in the old witch’s eyes. “Do I get to go home soon? Have I given enough yet?”

Dread and fear and confusion pricked my eyes.

“I’m not sure,” I answered and swallowed. “How long have you been here?”

“Only a few weeks,” the witch said and frowned. “I think. Time moves so slowly.” The witch’s frown smoothed into a wistful smile. “My mother said it always does for the young.”

Walker scoffed and tried to smother it as a cough.

“How—” I cleared my throat. “How old are you?”

“I’m only thirty-six,” the witch answered. My hands shook. “It’s why I was chosen to come to High Witch Cordelia’s court as penance for my coven’s misdemeanors. I have so many years to give thanks to my youth.”

So many years to give.

We needed to move on from this place. The Handmaidens would soon be on their way, and the other creatures too, but I couldn’t focus on a path out for my friends.