I nodded and backed out of the doorway, wondering if even with that small interaction I’d breathed in a lung burrower. I clamped my lips shut and held my breath as I ran back the way I’d come, gulping for air only once I was at the end of the hall. My legs were wobbly, a reminder that I’d been trapped in some sort of spell with no water or food for three days. I didn’t have time though to stop and eat, or rest—none of us did.

My hand tightened the crinkle of paper reminding me. I opened it, my fingers tingling as I read the words.

Go to the Pit. The healers there will help. And beware of Ash. Cassava owns him.

Cassava owned Ash? Worm shit, I was right about that then. And it explained why he hated me so. I had to find him, and quickly. I made my way, my hand against the wall for balance, down to the lowest level of the barracks. There was only one place he could be if he was going to go for help.

The Traveling room.

I knew about the place only from the training, and I hadn’t seen it yet. It had taken all four families to create, and it was a powerful tool. A way to traverse the world, and allow us access to the other families without having to deal with the humans disgusting, loud, filthy vehicles. The stairs that took me to the lowest level of the barracks were lit with torchlight, a good indicator that Ash was already in the Traveling Room. I made myself hurry, stumbling over the last few steps and crashing through the doorway.

Ash was still there, just grabbing something from the chest in the middle of the room. He was, of course, wearing his Ender leathers. But he’d added a long cloak that swirled between brown and green. The material fell to the floor in thick layers and was far too heavy for the warmth of summer. I couldn’t help but wonder what it was for. But I didn’t ask, knowing I was going to have to push him to take me along. I didn’t want to waste my breath on petty things like, “why are you wearing a winter cloak?”

I’d never come down this far, and I couldn’t help but stare. The room was built in imitation of the entire earth. I stepped fully into the room, my jaw dropping. The floor, walls, and ceiling were curved so that we were inside the globe looking out. I took another step, a splash making me shake my head. Lifting a foot, salt water dripped from my boot. I stood in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

The sense of awe kept me moving, unable to see enough. Of course, my awe didn’t last.

“What are you doing here?” Ash grabbed my arm and started to shove me backward. I dug my heels in, water sloshing up and over the edge of my boot.

“Granite sent me to help you.” I glared at him, made myself look into his eyes.

His jaw twitched. “You have no help to give. And even if you did, I wouldn’t want it. You’ll just get in the way, Seeder, and end up dead.”

I noticed the band on his upper arm. Smooth and made of red cedar, it glowed against his skin, the etchings carved in it those of our people. Dominating it was a tree, from root to tip curled around the band, a redwood with all its tiny needles spread wide. Wreathed in fog near the middle of the tree, with water droplets painstakingly carved in careful details, and a fire burning hot between the treetop and the roots. It was a masterpiece done in miniature.

A symbol for each of the families.

A band worn to travel between the homes of the four families. That much I knew.

I clamped a hand over it.

“You go, I go. That’s how it’s to be.”

He tried to jerk out of my hand, and I dug in hard. “I will not stand here and do nothing while my father and siblings lay on their death beds. I’m coming with you.”

With a snarl, he reached over his head with his free hand. “Fine. But the Pit is no place for the weak-minded.”

Granite’s admonition to keep my eye on Ash stuck in my head. “Tell me how it works. I need to know in case we get separated.”

His jaw ticked. “The arm band is simple. Put it on, a counter clockwise twist will bring you back here. Forward twist will take you to the last place it was used to travel to. New place, you have to be standing in a Traveling room and pick a spot, like this.” His eyes flicked over to the chest where he’d pulled the armband.

“What?”

His voice was soft. “There should be three bands, there are only two.”

“Could it have been taken?”

His eyes came back to mine. “That’s what I’m afraid of. But I don’t have time to search for it.”

I nodded, understanding. There were more important things than dealing with a missing armband. I watched his hand move, as if in slow motion, he opened up his hand and then pinched his fingers together, as if picking something up. The movement slowly drew the room, and the section of the globe we looked at, closer to us. The globe around us shifted, tightening, the details coming with more clarity. He did the same thing twice more until we were looking at the base of a mountain, cherry blossoms blowing in the wind, the scent of the flowering buds heavy on the air.

“Hold onto me, and no matter what happens, don’t let go,” Ash said.

I reached out and grabbed the thick belt around his waist.

“No, there has to be skin contact.” He grabbed my hand with his free one, but never actually looked at me. That didn’t mean I stopped watching what he did. I took note of everything, each move he made. His hand attached to the arm with the cedar band on it, lifted and he touched his index finger to a spot between two cherry trees on the over-magnified globe.

The world seemed to implode, the air around us gone in an instant, and my first thought was that Ash had finally found a way to get rid of me. But one look at his face, narrowed eyes, and the heavy pulse in his throat told me otherwise. I tightened my grip on him as we spun, our bodies seeming to come apart at the seams.