A pause. I hold my breath, wait for the hammer to drop, crushing my heart into gravel. “Yes,” she says, and I let out my breath slowly, trying to hide the fact that I was holding it at all. “But I also don’t want to cost you the presidency.”

“It’s already lost,” I say, knowing it’s the truth. “All that’s left is vengeance.”

“We should go back,” Adele says, abruptly releasing me and standing. “It’s too dangerous out here and the others will wonder where we’ve run off to.”

I clamber to my feet and then face her, sweeping my eyes across every inch of her majestic form. She watches me suspiciously. “What,” she says when my eyes return to hers.

“You’re beautiful,” I say.

“And you’re such a guy,” she retorts. “C’mon.” She grabs my hand and pulls me back down the tunnel. For me, despite scars and conspiracies and vengeance, the world is right again. If I die today, at least I’ll die with Adele by my side.

But I don’t plan to die.

* * *

Every few minutes I feel Roc’s eyes on me, but I studiously avoid them, pretending to organize my pack or clean my weapons. I know he wants to talk, to ask me a million questions, but I’d rather not. It’ll only dampen my relatively good mood.

Trevor continues to annoy, however, shooting comments like, “Ooh, the two lovebirds are back together?” or “You two make such a cute couple—when you’re not trying to kill each other.” Adele finally gives him a death stare and he backs off, his hands in the air, palms out. “Easy, wild woman,” he says, “I’m just kidding.” Since then, I’ve just had to deal with Roc’s silent stares.

“We’re going to pee,” Tawni says, grabbing Adele’s hand and pulling her away.

“But I don’t have—” Adele starts to say.

“Yes you do,” Tawni says. Adele glances back at me, a shrug in her eyes, if not on her shoulders.

I’m alone and unprotected. Roc saunters over. “What’s going on?” he asks, and I see Trevor stop rolling his bedding to watch our exchange.

“Nothing,” I say. “All good.”

“It wasn’t all good when Adele beat you up and yelled at you in front of everyone,” he says.

“She did not beat me u—”

“Yes she did,” Trevor comments from across the fire pit.

“Like you did any better,” I retort. The nice, peaceful feeling from making up with Adele is gone, and there’s a fire in my belly once more.

“We’re talking about you,” Trevor says.

“Shut up, Trevor,” Roc says. And then: “Talk to me, T, I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine, I promise,” I say. “We’re fine.”

“But what about—”

“We’ve worked it out, Roc. We’re moving on—you should too.” My eyes challenge him to say another word, which usually doesn’t even come close to working, but this time it does. Roc clams up, fires a final glare at me, and then goes back to packing for our trek across the Sun Realm.

Adele and Tawni take a long time “using the bathroom.” Trevor occupies himself by swinging his sword around like he’s fighting hordes of angry sun dwellers, while Roc sits facing the wall, just staring. He’s mad at me because I’m keeping things from him. He’ll get over it. I unpack and repack my bag a half-dozen times before the sound of approaching footsteps echoes through the cavern.

They appear through the murk, walking side by side, Tawni wearing a slight grin and Adele sporting a wry smile. From the look Adele shoots me I know: Tawni is completely up to date on the situation.

Roc turns, looks at Tawni, and realizes the same thing. He directs another glare at me, one that says, “See, Adele told Tawni. Why won’t you tell me? You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

“Sorry, buddy,” I try to relay to him telepathically, “There’s nothing to tell.” Clearly he doesn’t get the message as his eyes narrow further, until they’re thin slits of annoyance.

“Are we finally ready to go?” Trevor says, slipping his sword back into its loop. “I think there’s been enough drama for one morning.”

“Yeah,” I say, agreeing on both counts, “let’s go.”

We shoulder our packs and file out of the hidden cavern, me in front, then Roc, Trevor, Tawni, and Adele. I pause at the narrow entrance to the shipping tunnel, being far more cautious than the last time I barreled from under cover. I don’t hear anything from either direction, so I step out, flicking my flashlight around me. Only gray, barren rock stares back at me. When I shine the beam on the ceiling, a dozen gray bats gaze back through closed eyelids, sleeping upside down in the dark.

“Either they haven’t figured us out, or they haven’t caught up yet,” I note as the others step into the clear.

“Or they’re setting a trap for us,” Roc says skeptically.

“We’ll be careful,” I say, avoiding Roc’s eyes.

Flush with the wall, I move onwards, pausing every twenty steps, counting each one as if our lives depend on it. After three such segments, I turn and say, “Trevor, how far did you say it was?”

“We just started, man. I don’t know, a couple miles. Take off your women’s underwear and set a decent pace.”

Biting back a comeback, I turn and set off faster, still stopping occasionally, but much less frequently. Each time I do, I hear the soft tread of the others as they catch up, and then only silence when they stop. A mile passes without event.

Five minutes into the second mile, there’s an unexpected sound. I freeze in mid-step and then am bucked forward when Roc crashes into the back of me. “Oh, sorry,” he says.

“Shhhh!” I hiss back, cupping a hand around my ear.

Roc tilts his head—and we both hear it: Thump, thump, thump!

The beat of a drum, or the rumbling tire treads of a tank; it could feasibly be either one.

Trevor and the girls catch up, and Tawni says, “What is that?”

“Sounds like a cannon,” Trevor notes.

“No,” Roc says, “it’s a bass drum. The party has started.”

Nodding, I say, “I agree. Have you ever heard sun dweller music?”

“Of course. We’re not aliens,” Trevor says.

“Yes,” Adele says, directing a frown at Trevor, “it’s the only kind of music to listen to. It’s usually loud and fast.”

“Have you ever heard it live?” I ask.

“How could we, sun boy?” Trevor says. “It’s not like sun dweller bands go on tour through the Lower Realms. We’re lucky if we get it on the radio.”

I ignore him. “Well, you’re about to get a heavy dose.”

For the next few minutes there’s only the thump, thump, thump of the bass as it echoes through the tunnel like a war gong. Soon, however, there are other sounds: the high-pitched squeal of an electric guitar, the metallic clangs of someone bashing a full drum set, a shrieking voice belting out lyrics to some manic song.

“The Sun Rockers,” Roc says from behind me. “Four number one hits and a dozen other top ten songs. Been around for maybe five years.”

“Thank you, Professor Trivia,” Trevor says. “I’ve heard of them.”

I can’t help the smile that sneaks across my lips. Although Trevor can be a royal star dweller pain in the arse sometimes, he’s also quite funny. Somehow I like him a lot more now that he got beat up by Adele. Not that I’m surprised. If we’d been able to finish our training fight, I might have been in the same position as Trevor—defeated.

“Are you sure we should be heading toward the sound?” Tawni asks.

Glancing back, I start to reply, but Adele beats me to it. “Our only chance is to try to blend into the Sun Realm, become a part of the festivities, just five more faces in the crowd.”

“Oh,” Tawni says, looking unconvinced.

As we continue forward, the music reaches a fever pitch, shrieking through the tunnel and into our eardrums. Then, suddenly, it stops. I raise a hand, drawing our group to a halt.

“That’s the end of the song,” Roc says. Glancing at Trevor, he says, “And for the trivia buffs out there, The Sun Rockers are known for fast starts and stops to their songs.”