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FELICITY TELLS US there’s an entrance to the tunnels not far from Davis’s home, being the family property of the Line of Arthur. She guesses that’s how Nick and Davis will have entered the cave. We don’t have time to go that far, and we don’t need to.

I should have known the Order founders would want an entrance close by, but even then, I’d have never guessed the door to the tunnels would be the Wall of Ages itself.

“This has been here this whole time?” Russ exclaims, clearly put out that his Scion had kept something from him.

Felicity winces. “I’m sorry, Russy! All of the Scion families are sworn to secrecy. It’s a security measure, just in case anyone tries to get in.”

He harrumphs, and she goes to squeeze him around the middle, their armor clanking together when she does.

The founders weren’t playing around. Not only did they keep the entrance secret and, literally, right under everyone’s noses in the basement, but it takes actual Scion blood—at least three Lines in agreement—to open the door.

The group going to the tunnels stands back as Felicity, William, and Fitz step forward to do the honors.

William uses a small needle to prick their thumbs. I reach nervous fingers to the sword strapped to my back. It helps to touch the solid pommel and leather-wrapped grip. I’d selected a blade that was light, sharp, and well-balanced. I’m still scared I’m going to accidentally chop my own arm off. The thought, vivid and violent, seems to be enough to wake my grandmother.

She stirs inside me, in what feels like her chair. ‘Oh, finally doing something, are we?’

“Wow. Just wow,” I mutter. Evan looks at me strangely, and I smile back and gesture at the wall in front of us. “It’s impressive, right?” He nods in agreement and focuses on the Scions.

You find that old mother yet, Grandmother Charles? I ask inside my head. I could use some of those red flames right about now.

‘Young folk never listen,’ she mutters, scoffing so loud it rattles my ears from the inside out. ‘I’m not findin’ her. She’s comin’ to you. And no, she ain’t here yet. ’Spect she’ll be by shortly.’

I don’t even bother responding, for fear I’ll say the wrong thing and she’ll find a way to slap me again.

The three Scions bend in unison and smear their thumbs over their names in the carved Lines of the Wall. As they do, the Lines blaze to life, streaking up to the top of the Wall in three distinct colors—red for Lamorak, green for Gawain, and deep orange for Bors. Right as they reach the gemstones at the top, a deep grinding sound shakes the room and the tables and files inside it.

“Oh, shit,” Russ says, his irritation now replaced with unsuppressed glee. “Oh, shit!”

We step back as hidden gears, still working even though they must be centuries old, pull the door inward inch by inch. A rush of stale, damp-smelling air blows into the room, and we cover our noses. The passage beyond must be filled with mildew and decay. I can taste it in the back of my throat. It’s so strong, even my grandmother pulls back.

Just as the door comes to a squealing, echoing halt, the door behind us opens, and Tor and Sarah walk in. “We’re going too,” Tor says in a surprisingly strong voice.

“Oh no you’re not!” William points a finger at her and Sarah both. “I should have told Whitty to knock you both out.”

“Oh, shut it, Will,” Tor says, even though her movements are stiff and her breath is already leaving her mouth in rattling pants. “I’ll be healed soon enough. And they need more firepower.”

“I said no!”

Tor reaches the group and leans against a cabinet to gaze into the gloom beyond the Wall. The tunnel has no lighting installed, so we can only see what the fluorescent lights in the room reveal: a pounded charcoal-black dirt floor, smooth from wind-distributed dust. A pathway about six feet across that disappears ten feet in. No ceiling, as if the Wall marks the boundary between the Lodge’s foundation and the passage to another world. An older world. One that is deep, dangerous, and much nearer to the demons’ plane. Beyond the Wall, in total darkness, we’d be in their court, not ours.

And what’s worse is that just a foot before the light weakens, we can see a rounded antechamber that ends in six openings. The first branch in the network.

William runs his hand down Tor’s back, evaluating her condition with a deep scowl on his face. “Impatience is an inherited personality trait in your Line,” he mutters. “Fortunately for you, so is rapidity of aether metabolism. You’ll be healed in less than an hour, you ungrateful girl.”

Tor grins. “Toldja.”

“All right, everyone, listen up.” Felicity calls us to attention, her back toward the tunnel so she can see our faces.

“Hey!” Tor calls, limping over to her. “I’m here now, and I’m third-ranked. I’ll make the pronouncements!”

Felicity fixes her with a truly damning stare. Tor, to her credit, only holds her stance for a moment before she concedes, stepping aside.

“The good news is, according to my dad’s stories, there’s a tunnel network map that will show us the most direct path to the cave. The bad news is, we don’t know where that map is.” Our groans echo into the tunnel behind her. “But since all paths eventually lead there, we’re splitting the group four ways.” She glances at Tor and Sarah. “Five ways.” William walks between us, handing out small black flashlights.

There’s an odd number of us, so I get put into a group of three with Fitz and Evan. Vaughn and Whitty agree to join forces, leaving the rest of the bonded pairs to work together.

“There won’t be reception down there, so your phones are useless. Remember that the center of the campus is to our left, and hopefully we’ll all end up at the cave together. If you get there first, please try talking to Lord Davis.” Before using a weapon, she means. “But be on your guard. He might open a Gate to truly force Nick to defend himself.”

The pairs file in one at a time. Evan, Fitz, and I will go in last. Just as we take a step forward, William catches my arm.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he says earnestly, his gray eyes searching mine. He glances into the cave and back to me again, and I see the worry there, so genuine it pains me. “It’s not your war.”

It’s not your war. I had a similar thought the last time I was here, when I was leaving the Legendborn world for good.

“I don’t want war,” I reply. “I want the people I love to be safe.”

“I thought you might say something like that.”

“You coming, Matthews?” Fitz calls. He and Evan are standing just over the threshold, faces limned in light, bodies already in shadow.

I say, “Right behind you,” and step forward into the earth.