I wonder where he is, whether he’s getting on okay with my dad, whether they’re in a better state than we are. I hope my dad’s not giving him a hard time. I’m not sure what to expect, as I’ve never really had a guy interested in me before. For all I know, my dad might put on a tough guy act, even though he’s really a softy. The weird thing is, soon my dad will probably know Tristan better than I do.

The other odd thing is that ever since my final hug with Tristan, the tingles on my scalp and the buzzing along my spine have lessened with each step, until finally, an hour or so ago, they vanished completely, as if our physical connection is dependent on our closeness somehow. Or it could just be related to the Bat Flu.

Although we’ve been walking for two days solid, Tawni and I, trudging down an endless inter-Realm tunnel, making our way slowly to the Star Realm, the last two hours have been by far the worst. Although I know we are, I don’t feel like we’re getting anywhere. Every step forward feels like two backward. It’s like wading through water, as if the air has substance, its viscosity slowing our every move.

It’s not just the act of walking that frustrates me. It’s the monotony of the tunnel. The tunnel is wide enough for half a dozen people to walk side by side, and tall enough for me to give Tawni a piggyback ride, although given she’s about six inches taller than me, the physics might not work so well. The tunnel floor is smooth, packed hard by thousands of tramping feet, but the walls and ceiling are rough and jagged, as if it was excavated haphazardly by a century-old tunneling machine. Modern-day tunnelers create perfectly arched passages, with smooth edges and glassy sides, at a rate of five miles per hour. This tunnel looks more like three guys with shovels and pickaxes carved their way through at about five feet per hour.

Huge pipes run along the ceiling: air pipes, carrying fresh, filtered oxygen to the star dwellers. It’s scary to think about the fact that we’d all be dead if not for these kinds of pipes, our air used up, leaving nothing for our thirsty lungs. I’ve always taken it for granted that my subchapter had fresh air pumped in through the roof, while the old air is sucked out and back to the barren surface of the earth. I remember learning in school how the air on earth contains noxious fumes—as a result of what happened in Year Zero—which required the scientists to come up with an advanced air filtration system to ensure there was enough clean air for everyone. Well, the pipes I’ve been staring at as we trudge along are part of the system.

For two days, the tunnel has sloped gently downwards, which should make the hike easy, but since we’ve contracted the Flu, it’s as if gravity has reversed itself, pitting even the laws of nature against us, making the downhills feel like uphills. It’s getting warmer as we go deeper into the earth, which was another thing I learned in school, but could never really believe until experiencing it firsthand. Or it’s the fever setting in, I’m not entirely sure.

My thoughts turn to my mom. Is she okay? Although I rescued my sister, Elsey, and my dad, I don’t dare to hope that my mom is still alive. How could she be? There are no happy endings in my world. Not even happy beginnings. And the middle parts, they are the saddest of all.

“Are you okay?” Tawni manages to ask, snapping me out of my grim mood. I’m not sure how long we’ve been resting.

I nod, lick my dry, chapped lips, try to swallow.

“Why haven’t we seen anyone since the sun dwellers?” I ask.

“I don’t think the star dweller troops are going home anytime soon,” she says. “Not until they get what they want, anyway.”

Just before we entered the tunnel we are in, two days earlier, we saw thousands of star dweller troops pass by. They looked rough and weary, but determined. Determined to get the moon dwellers to join their rebellion…or die trying.

“So many people will die,” I say.

“Not if your dad and Tristan can get the moon dweller leaders to listen. I mean, they will get them to listen. I know they will.” Tawni is just being herself. Optimistic by nature. Despite all she’s been through, still optimistic. I marvel at her character.

“I’ll agree with you the second the sun dwellers invite us all up for a big Tri-Realms unity party,” I say.

Tawni smirks, but tries to hide it.

“I meant never.”

“I know,” Tawni says, laughing at first and then coughing.

It’s the most we’ve talked in a long time and I’m glad we can still joke. I doubt we’ll be able to in a few hours. Tawni looks at me curiously.

“What?” I say.

“I’ve been thinking—”

“Always dangerous,” I comment.

“And…” Tawni says, ignoring me, “I think Tristan and Roc were hiding something from us.”

“Like you think one of them might be a woman?”

Tawni cracks up and doesn’t even cough this time. It’s like the laughter is healing us. I might believe that if not for the throbbing in my forehead. “Not what I was thinking, but good guess. I’m thinking something more important, like about the meaning of life.”

“You don’t think Tristan being a woman is important?” I say, attempting a smile of my own which ends in more of a grimace.

Tawni laughs hard, which results in another coughing fit. So much for the laughter-healing theory.

“I guess that would be pretty important to you.”

“You guess?”

“Okay, yes, that would be important. But I’m talking important on a world scale, not just a personal level.”

I’m giving Tawni a hard time, but I know exactly what she means. I felt it, too. A couple of times I thought Tristan was about to tell me something big, but then he would make an offhanded comment, a joke usually. It’s as if he was waiting for the perfect time to tell me something, but that time never came. Or maybe he was debating whether he could trust me with some secret. I guess if I were him, I wouldn’t trust me either, not after having only just met me. It’s not like I completely trust him yet either. I mean, I want to, especially because the fate of the world seems to be resting precariously on his shoulders. Oh yeah, and because we held hands for like two hours one night. Which was a big deal for me, who doesn’t know a slide into first base from a base-clearing homerun.

“I think so, too,” I say.

“You do?”

“Yeah. Remind me to ask him about it on our next date.”

Tawni laughs again, her face lighting up, the laugh reaching her pale blue eyes. I’m happy I can make her laugh even in our current condition. She deserves some measure of happiness. I know I complain a lot about the hand life has dealt me, but Tawni has it bad, too. At least I know my parents are good people, even if I may never see them again. At least I want to see them again. Tawni, on the other hand, has told me numerous times that seeing her parents in a million years would be too soon.

And then…Cole.

He was the only family she really had left. I mean, maybe he wasn’t tied to her by blood, and certainly no one would mistake him for her brother, what with his dark skin against her white. But he was her family—there is no doubt about that. But now he’s gone. Laid low, like the dust on our shoes. Torn from this world with the same ferocity that his entire family was taken from him by the Enforcers.

I realize I’m gritting my teeth and Tawni has stopped laughing. Nothing like my dark thoughts to bring down the mood.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks.

“Nothing,” I lie.

“Cole.”

“Maybe.”

“Yes.” We haven’t talked about Cole since we tearfully entered the tunnels. I’ve heard Tawni’s muffled sobs both nights, but when I whispered to her they stopped, and she didn’t respond. Maybe she was embarrassed or something. She shouldn’t be. Her tears are only showing what we’re both feeling.

“Yes,” I admit.