31
Benji carried Sassy into the living room as though she weighed nothing, lowering her gently onto the worn leather couch. The house was warm, smelling faintly of cedar and gun oil. A pair of work boots sat near the door. A kettle whistled faintly in the kitchen, forgotten.
Wren hovered near the threshold skeptical and skittish, ready to run if needed.
Benji straightened, eyes flicking between the two women. “Who’s hurt? Who’s after you?”
Sassy swallowed, her voice a thin thread. “Benji… it’s Jimmy.”
His expression sharpened instantly. A flash of something territorial, then grim resolve. “What happened to him?”
She squeezed her hands together, trying to steady herself. “They took him. The Garden. They…” Her voice cracked. “They took him because of me.”
Benji dropped to one knee in front of her so they were eye level. “Slow down. Tell me everything, Sass. All of it.”
So, she did.
The secret room beneath Ash Grove.
The journals.
Her mother’s notes.
The confession chamber.
Jimmy fighting until he couldn’t.
Wren.
The tunnels.
The prophecy.
The Protector role.
Jimmy’s bloodline.
Her own childhood memories ripping open.
The Garden wanting Jimmy more than they wanted her.
Wren spoke only once—to confirm details Sassy struggled to say aloud—especially about how “training” worked and what happened to the discarded girls.
Benji’s face went tight and unreadable the entire time, but his eyes…
His eyes burned.
When Sassy finished, tears threatening again, he rose abruptly and stalked to the far wall. He braced both hands against it, head bowed. His shoulders shook with a fury he couldn’t contain.
“Those sick bastards,” he said. “Those sick, twisted—”
He slammed his fist into the wall.
The wood cracked.
Sassy flinched.
Benji turned immediately, softening when he saw her shrink back. “Shit—Sass, I’m not mad at you. Not ever at you. I’m mad at what they did. Mad they touched you at all.”
His voice broke on the last word.
Sassy wiped her cheeks. “Benji… Jimmy’s still down there.”
Benji nodded, pacing now. “And we’re getting him back.”
Wren stepped forward tentatively. “You don’t understand. They have numbers. And rituals. And weapons. And tunnels. They know how to hunt.”
Benji’s mouth curled in a humorless smile. “So do I.”
Sassy sat up straighter. “Benji, this isn’t like feuding with a neighbor. They have a belief system. They’re willing to die for it.”
Benji crouched in front of her again, resting a hand over hers.
“I don’t give a damn what they believe.”
His voice was low, steady.
“What matters is what I believe. And I believe in you. Always have.”
Sassy looked away, unsure her heart could survive his intensity.
Benji’s voice softened further. “And I know you and Jimmy. You’re stupid for each other. You always were.” He swallowed hard. “So, if Jimmy’s alive, we’re bringing him back. No matter what it costs.”
Wren stared at him, stunned. “Why would you risk all that? For him?”
Benji didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes on Sassy.
“Because she asked me to.”
Something inside Sassy trembled. Something she didn’t want to acknowledge. Something dangerous and warm and unsteady.
But she forced herself to stay focused. “We need a plan. They’re in tunnels under Ash Grove. And they have him for something… something they think he was born for.”
Benji nodded. “Then we’ll hit ’em where they live.”
He stood and grabbed his phone. “I’m calling my brothers.”
Sassy stiffened. “Benji—no, they’ll get hurt. I don’t want more people dragged into this.”
Benji paused at the doorway, gripping the frame. “Sassy… this is Fallon land. And the Garden doesn’t step on Fallon land without consequences. My brothers will want in.”
Wren shook her head nervously. “You don’t understand what they’re capable of—”
Benji cut her off. “No, you don’t understand. This family’s been fighting predators and poachers and cartel idiots for three generations. A bunch of indoctrinated psychos in matching coats won’t scare them off.”
Sassy stood, swaying slightly. Benji caught her elbow before she fell.
“I can’t lose Jimmy,” she said. “I can’t.”
Benji’s brows drew together, his voice softening. “You won’t. We’ll get him out.”
Sassy met his eyes. “Benji… you’re the only one I trust.”
He held her gaze, something like vulnerability flickering beneath the anger.
“I know.”
The moment stretched between them—unspoken, electric, complicated. Then Benji stepped back and rolled his shoulders, voice clipped and all business again.
“Wren, get some water in you. Sassy, sit. I’m gathering the boys.”
Sassy touched his arm lightly before he left. “Benji… thank you.”
He paused, jaw clenching. “Don’t thank me yet. Thank me when Jimmy’s home.”
He walked out the door into the night, phone already ringing, purpose radiating off him like heat.
Sassy sank into the couch, Wren hovering nearby.
“You trust him a lot,” Wren said almost under her breath.
Sassy stared at the door Benji had disappeared through.
“He’s the last person the world would expect me to trust,” she said. “But right now… he’s all I’ve got.”
Wren hesitated. “And what if he wants something in return?”
Sassy closed her eyes.
“That’s what scares me.”
32
The Fallon barn was alive with low voices, heavy boots, and the metallic click of weapons being checked. Benji’s brothers, Levi and Colton, moved with practiced quiet, grim purpose etched across their features.
Sassy stood by the workbench, hands trembling as she pulled on one of Benji’s old flannels. It swallowed her, but it smelled like cedar and tobacco and something steady she desperately needed.
Wren hovered in the corner, watching every movement with wide, wary eyes. She flinched each time a gun chamber snapped closed.
Benji came over to Sassy, placing a hand lightly on her lower back. “You okay?”
She nodded, though the truth pulsed beneath her skin like electricity. “No. But I’m ready.”
He studied her for a heartbeat too long. Eyes soft, jaw tight, concern carved deep.
“What?” she said.
Benji shook his head. “Just… don’t leave my sight tonight.”
She opened her mouth, ready to argue—it wasn’t his job to watch her—but the words died when she saw the tension in him. Not control.
Fear. For her.
“I won’t,” she whispered.
Wren cleared her throat. “We should go before dawn. They don’t sleep down there, but the guards are foggier in the early hours. Ritual prep drains them.”
Colton looked up sharply. “Ritual prep?”
Wren nodded. “They don’t do anything without ceremony. Before they use someone—Protector or Bloom—they fast and chant. It makes them… unfocused. It’s your only advantage.”
The brothers exchanged a glance.
Benji stepped closer to Wren. “How long do we have?”
Wren sucked in a breath. “Not long. They’ll want Jimmy ready before sunrise.”
Sassy’s heart lurched. “Ready for what?”
Wren hesitated. “They cleanse the Protector first. Strip him of ‘earthly bonds.’ Then they… bind him. Not with chains. With a vow.”
Benji’s jaw tensed. “He won’t vow anything.”
“He might not have a choice,” Wren said.
Sassy felt the air thin. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Benji nodded, signaling to his brothers. Levi grabbed the trucks keys. Colton pulled two rifles from the rack and handed one to Benji.
Wren shrank back immediately. Sassy placed a calming hand on her arm.
“They’re not here to hurt you,” she said, trying to calm her knowing the trauma she has suffered.
“They’re armed,” Wren said through panicked heaves. “That’s always meant danger in my world.”
“You’re in our world now,” Sassy explained. “Different rules.”
Benji slung the rifle over his shoulder and turned to Sassy. “You ride with me.”
She hesitated. “What about Wren?”
Colton stepped forward. “She’ll go with Levi. He’s got extra space and knows the back roads better.”
Wren eyed them suspiciously but didn’t object. She was breathing too fast, the open barn already making her visibly dizzy. She clung to Sassy’s sleeve for one last moment.
“You can do this,” Sassy said. “We both can.”
Wren swallowed hard and nodded.
Benji pulled open the truck door. “Let’s move.”
Fog curled low over the fields as the two trucks cut through the back roads, engines rumbling softly. The moon hung low, smeared by clouds, casting the world in soft shadows.
Sassy stared out the window, memorizing every bend of the road—every fence line, every barn silhouette—like she was cataloging the world she might not see again if everything went wrong.
Benji glanced at her, one hand steady on the wheel. “Talk to me.”
She blinked. “About what?”
“Anything. You’re shaking.”
She hadn’t realized she was.
“I left him,” she said as if confessing. “Twice.”
Benji’s voice softened. “You didn’t leave him. You got out to come back for him.”
Sassy swallowed. “What if we’re too late?”
“We’re not.”
“You don’t know that.”
He reached across the seat and took her hand. “Sass. Look at me.”
She did, breath trembling.
His eyes were fierce. Unwavering. “We’re getting him out. I swear it.”
A tear slid down her cheek. She didn’t bother hiding it.
Benji squeezed her hand once before letting go, turning his attention to the road. Sassy wiped her face and focused on her breathing, grounding herself.
Ahead, Levi’s truck slowed as the woods thickened, then pulled off into a narrow clearing. The trucks parked under a canopy of pines, engines ticking in the cold.
They got out quietly.
Wren shivered in Levi’s borrowed jacket. “The entrance is half a mile west. Hidden in the brush. The vents above it connect to the tunnels.”
Benji nodded. “Good. We split into pairs.”
Levi looked to Sassy. “You with Benji. I’ll take Wren.”
Colton added, “I’ll take the perimeter. Anyone tries to circle around or come up top; I’ll see them first.”
Benji stepped close to Sassy. “Stay behind me. Don’t argue.”
She huffed a humorless laugh. “You know me better than that.”
His lips twitched. “Unfortunately.”
They started down the narrow path, pine needles muffling their footsteps. The forest felt both alive and eerily still, as if it were holding its breath alongside them.
Sassy inhaled deeply.
Jimmy’s face burned in her mind.
Hold on, she thought. Please hold on.
They reached the thick brush Wren pointed out—an overgrown patch hiding the slope into the underground structure.
Wren knelt, pushing brambles aside.
“There,” she said. “The old hatch.”
A rusted metal door lay half-buried beneath vines.
Benji motioned them back. “I’ll open it.”
He crouched, grabbing the handle, and heaved. The hinges creaked. A rush of cold, stale air burst upward like the breath of something long asleep.
Sassy’s pulse hammered.
Wren gripped Levi’s arm, shaking.
Benji looked at Sassy.
“You ready?”
“No,” she said. “But Jimmy needs me.”
Benji held her gaze—something unspoken passing between them.
“Then let’s go,” he said.
One by one, they descended into the darkness beneath Ash Grove.
Sassy’s heart pounded.
Benji’s boots hit stone beside her.
Wren inhaled sharply behind them.
And miles below, somewhere in the black—
Jimmy waited.
Or bled.
Or fought.
Or prayed she’d come.
Sassy clenched her jaw.
I’m coming, she whispered to him in her mind.
I’m coming, Jimmy.
33
The hatch clanged shut above them, sealing the four of them in a narrow stone corridor that breathed cold air and old secrets. Lanterns hung at intervals along the walls, their weak glow casting long, trembling shadows.
Sassy’s skin prickled the second her boots touched the stone floor.
The air felt wrong.
Electric.
Suffocating.
Benji stepped in front of her immediately, rifle raised, every muscle in his back coiled tight.
Wren motioned for them to stay close. “This isn’t one of the main tunnels. It’s a service route. If we’re lucky, the guards won’t be stationed here.”
“Lucky?” Colton muttered from behind. “That’s a first.”
Levi moved quietly ahead, checking corners with calm efficiency. Benji kept Sassy tucked behind his arm, his body always angled toward danger.
She wanted to tell him she didn’t need protection—
but the truth trembled inside her.
She did.
Not from monsters.
From men who believed they were holy.
They crept deeper, the tunnel sloping downward. Faint voices echoed somewhere in the distance. Chants carried by the stone.
Wren stiffened. “Stop. Listen.”
Everyone froze.
The voices grew louder. Not approaching. Reciting. A low cadence. A ritual rhythm. Sassy’s lungs seized as memories surged.
Benji touched her shoulder gently. “Hey. Stay with me.”
She nodded shakily.
The chanting stopped.
Followed by footsteps.
Multiple.
Wren’s eyes widened. “Guards.”
Benji tightened his grip on the rifle. “Positions.”
Levi signaled silently—two fingers up, three down, meaning five incoming.
Colton raised his own weapon.
But Wren shook her head violently. “Guns will echo. They’ll know we’re here.”
Benji moaned. “Then what do you suggest?”
“Get low,” she whispered urgently. “Hide in the drainage recesses. And whatever happens, don’t let them see your faces.”
There were narrow stone alcoves carved into the walls—cold, damp, barely big enough to crouch in.
Benji grabbed Sassy’s wrist and pulled her into one, his body shielding hers completely. She could feel his heartbeat hammering against her shoulder blade.
Colton and Levi melted into the shadows on opposite sides.
Wren flattened herself into a crevice farther down, trembling.
Footsteps approached.
Five figures rounded the corner. Hooded, faces painted in ritual ash, carrying staffs and rope-wrapped batons. Their boots struck the stone with aggressive precision.
One spoke—a woman with a voice like iron.
“Search the eastern corridors. The Bloom escaped. The Protector has not spoken. That means the ritual still requires purification.”
Sassy’s stomach twisted.
Benji’s breath went sharp behind her, anger radiating through him like heat.
Another guard responded, voice low. “Should we move the Protector?”
“No,” the woman replied. “Not until the High Mother gives the order.”
Benji’s hand clenched so tightly around his rifle that Sassy feared he’d snap it in half.
Jimmy… where are you?
The guards passed.
Their footsteps faded.
Silence settled thick and heavy.
Benji stepped out first, scanning both ends of the corridor before signaling them forward.
Wren exhaled shakily. “We need to move. Fast. They won’t stop until they find one of you.”
Sassy asked, “One of us? Why not you?”
Wren hesitated. Her eyes darted away. “Because I’m a discard. They don’t look for those.”
Benji turned to her sharply. “That’s not why. You’re hiding something.”
Wren’s mouth tightened. Fear danced at the edge of her expression.
Sassy stepped closer. “Wren… what aren’t you telling us?”
Wren wrung her hands. “I didn’t want to scare you.”
“Too late,” Benji said.
She swallowed hard. “The Garden doesn’t just want Jimmy. They want you too, Sassy.”
Sassy froze. “Why?”
“The Bloom isn’t complete without a return,” Wren explained. “They want to finish what your mother interrupted.”
Benji stepped between them immediately. “Over my dead body.”
Wren shook her head. “It’s worse. They don’t need you willing. They just need you present.”
Sassy’s chest constricted. “But I’m not there. I escaped.”
Wren looked away. “Escaped Blooms always come back. One way or another.”
Benji’s voice dropped to a dangerous growl. “She’s not going back anywhere.”
Levi stepped forward quietly. “We need a route. The guards will double back soon.”
Wren nodded. “There’s a lower corridor that leads to the core tunnels. It’s not on any of the visible maps. Only the Midwives and discards know it. But…” Her voice trembled. “It goes right past the Chamber of Reflection.”
Colton’s eyes narrowed. “And what the hell is that?”
Wren shivered. “The place where Blooms were broken. Where girls confessed until they couldn’t speak. You don’t want to go there.”
Benji raised his rifle. “If it gets us closer to Jimmy, we go there.”
“The guards cycle through that corridor. If they catch us—,” Wren said in a panic.
“They won’t,” Benji cut in. “Not with me here.”
His certainty was reckless.
Dangerous.
Terrifying.
But Sassy believed him.
Wren bit her lip. “There’s one more thing.”
Benji snapped, “Spit it out.”
“The Chamber of Reflection has another entrance,” she explained. “A deeper one. The one they use when they move Protectors.”
Sassy’s blood ran cold.
“Jimmy,” she said.
Wren nodded. “He might have passed through already. Or he might be there now.”
Benji stepped back to Sassy, placing a hand at the small of her back.
“We’re going,” he said. “End of discussion.”
She opened her mouth to respond—but a sudden crash echoed behind them. Stone crumbled. A deep moaning sound reverberated through the tunnel.
Colton spun around. “The hell was that?”
Wren’s face paled. “They’re sealing the upper entrances. They know someone came in from above.”
Benji grabbed Sassy’s hand. “Move. Now.”
They raced down the corridor toward the deeper passage.
But halfway through, a shadow appeared at the far end. A tall figure. Hooded. Silent. Another guard stepped into view beside him.
Benji pushed Sassy behind him, fury igniting in his voice. “Back. All of you. I’ll deal with them.”
“No,” Sassy said, gripping his jacket. “Benji—”
But the guards raised their staffs—
—and the wall beside Sassy exploded inward.
Dust choked the air. Stone shards sprayed in every direction. The blast separated them violently.
Sassy screamed as the floor beneath her collapsed, sending her tumbling into darkness.
Benji shouted her name, his voice raw.
Wren’s cry echoed.
And then—
Silence.
Sassy fell until cold water swallowed her whole.
The tunnel above her sealed with debris.
She was alone.
Separated.
Forced deeper.
And somewhere far below the earth—
Jimmy remained out of reach.
34
Cold water slammed around Sassy, swallowing her scream before it could leave her throat. She tumbled blindly through the dark, scraping against stone until her hands found the surface and she pushed upward, lungs burning.
Her head broke through the icy pool and she gasped—air, damp and stale, flooding her chest.
The chamber was enormous, cavernous, echoing with every frantic step. The water reflected faint, flickering light from somewhere high above—torches? Candles? A maintenance bulb?
It didn’t matter.
She was alone.
“Benji!” she shouted, voice cracking. “Wren!”
Only her own echoes answered, bouncing off the stone walls until they distorted into something that didn’t sound like her at all.
She dragged herself to the edge, fingers gripping slick rock until she managed to pull her shaking body onto the ledge. Her clothes clung to her, heavy with cold. Her teeth chattered as she crawled forward.
Above her, the collapse sealed the tunnel—a jagged scar of rock and dust.
No way back.
No chance the others could reach her quickly.
Sassy pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. “Okay. Okay. You’re not dead. You’re not lost. You can do this.”
But the truth gnawed at her:
She was alone in a labyrinth she barely understood.
The Garden knew these tunnels.
She didn’t.
A drip of water echoed somewhere behind her, rhythmic, steady. A sign there were deeper channels, maybe alternative exits. Or entrances for people who moved easily through the dark.
She forced herself onto her feet. Her muscles screamed. Her skin shook. But she moved.
The chamber narrowed into a long, sloping walkway carved from ancient stone. Moss clung to the walls, shining in sickly patches by faint light from above. The air was humid but cold, coated in the metallic tang of old water.
Sassy placed one hand on the wall to steady herself as she walked.
With each step, her mind spun through everything:
Benji’s roar as the collapse swallowed her.
Wren’s scream twisting into panic.
Jimmy—
Jimmy’s silence inside the tunnels.
His unknown fate.
His absence tearing into her like a wound.
Hold on, she whispered into the damp air.
Hold on until I get back to you.
A thought surfaced, unbidden and unwelcome:
What if he can’t?
She pushed it down violently. Halfway down the tunnel, she heard voices—faint, like a conversation carried through pipes. She froze. The words were too muffled to distinguish, but the tone was unmistakable:
Calm.
Focused.
Certain.
Garden voices.
Her skin prickled. She crouched low, creeping forward until she reached a junction of three branching tunnels. Water dripped steadily from above, masking her movements.
She pressed her ear to the left tunnel. Nothing. The right. A faint hum of chanting. The center. A voice—closer, clearer, and horrifyingly composed.
“…she will come, whether by choice or pressure.”
Sassy’s blood froze.
“…the Bloom always returns to the Protector. It is the way of the circle.”
Another voice responded, lower, thoughtful.
“We must prepare. The High Mother believes this is the final cycle. The Bloom is needed whole.”
Sassy’s heart hammered against her ribs.
They were preparing.
For her.
Because she escaped.
Because she was still alive.
She backed away slowly, pulse roaring in her ears—until her heel caught on something. A chain. Thin. Rusted. It clinked against the stone.
The voices fell silent.
Sassy clamped a hand over her mouth.
From the center tunnel came the soft sound of footsteps approaching.
Measured.
Unhurried.
Knowing.
She ran.
Her boots splashed through shallow water as she sprinted down the left passage—away from the voices, away from the approaching footsteps. The tunnel sloped downward again, twisting sharply until the sound of water grew louder, rushing beneath her feet.
A bridge—if it could be called that—appeared ahead. A narrow plank walkway spanning a black chasm of fast-moving underground currents.
She hesitated only a second.
Then crossed.
The bridge howled under her weight. A board snapped beneath her heel and she lurched forward, grabbing the rope rail just in time.
Behind her, footsteps echoed faintly.
They were following.
She forced herself across the last stretch of the bridge and stumbled onto solid ground. A sign of some kind had been carved into the rock ahead—an ancient symbol resembling an hourglass split in two.
She didn’t know what it meant.
But she knew the Garden did.
She kept going.
The tunnel opened into a smaller room—one with walls scratched by nails, marked by desperate words etched in stone:
I AM NOT BLOOM
LET ME OUT
HE DOESN’T WANT ME
THE LIGHT IS COLD
Sassy pressed her hand to her heart.
Wren had spoken of this place.
The discarded girls.
The broken ones.
The ones who didn’t fit the ritual.
Sassy whispered into the shadows, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry they did this to you.”
A sound behind her made her whirl—
but it wasn’t footsteps.
It was water.
A hidden opening at the back of the room spilled into a narrow drainage channel.
Escape.
Or at least distance.
She crouched, squeezing her body through the tight gap until her shoulders grated against the stone. The water was cold but shallow, trickling over her hands as she crawled through. She didn’t know where it led. But the voices behind her were getting louder. So, she followed the water. After several minutes of crawling, the stone opened up again into a lower corridor—torchlit, still, empty. She staggered to her feet, soaked, shaking, but alive.
She wasn’t caught.
She wasn’t dead.
She wasn’t done.
She put one hand on the wall to steady herself.
“Jimmy,” she said. “I’m coming. I swear I’m coming.”
Her voice echoed faintly, swallowed quickly by the dark.
But she didn’t hear the faint answering echo that slipped through the tunnels behind her—a voice too soft to place, too distant to trust, and too calm to belong to someone fighting for freedom.
35
The torch flickered along the stone walls, casting trembling shapes that made the corridor feel alive, as though the shadows themselves were alive. Sassy pressed forward, dripping, freezing, and half-dizzy, but refusing to stop.
Every step felt like her body was made of glass: fragile, rattling, ready to shatter.
But Jimmy’s face stayed in her mind like a pulse.
Hold on.
Hold on until I find you.
Her hands trailed along the wall as she moved, grounding herself, feeling the vibrations of distant footsteps and the faint thrum of chanting somewhere far below. The Garden’s rituals reverberated through the stone like a heartbeat.
She tried not to think about what, or who, those rituals were meant for.
The corridor forked again. This time, a faint warm draft drifted from the passage on the right, air that smelled faintly of smoke and something else. Something human.
Sassy turned that way.
The tunnel opened into a circular stone room no larger than a storage cellar. Shelves lined the walls, filled with folded linen garments, oil lamps, and binders labeled with dates.
Candles burned on a long altar table—freshly lit. Someone had been here minutes ago. Sassy froze as her eyes landed on a scrap of fabric lying atop the table.
A shirt.
A blue denim work shirt.
Jimmy’s.
The breath punched out of her.
She rushed forward, snatching it up in trembling hands, pressing it to her chest, inhaling deeply. It smelled like him. Warm skin and motor oil and the faint trace of cologne he pretended he didn’t wear.
She nearly collapsed under the wave of relief and grief.
“He was here,” she said, voice cracking. “Jimmy… you were right here.”
But the shirt wasn’t torn.
It wasn’t bloodied.
It wasn’t mishandled.
It had been folded.
Placed neatly, reverently, as though prepared for some ceremony.
Reverence was worse than violence.
Reverence meant purpose.
She scanned the room rapidly, hands shaking, eyes burning. On a nearby shelf, she found a leather-bound notebook—heavy, thick with pages marked by ribbon and tabs. She opened it to the most recent entry. Her stomach twisted.
PROTECTOR — CONFIRMATION PROCESS COMMENCED.
THE SUBJECT SHOWS SIGNS OF WILLINGNESS.
FURTHER STEPS UNDERWAY.
Sassy’s pulse roared in her ears.
Willingness?
No.
No.
He wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
They were twisting him.
Drugging him.
Forcing him.
Lying.
Her hand slammed the notebook shut.
“This is wrong,” she snapped fiercely. “This is not him.”
But a tiny voice inside her—the voice of past fear, past uncertainty—echoed Elara’s warnings, Wren’s trembling explanations:
Belief doesn’t require consent.
Attachment can become obedience.
Devotion is the easiest leash.
Sassy shoved the thoughts away and grabbed an oil lamp. She needed light. She needed clarity. She needed motion.
But before she could leave, she heard footsteps.
Close.
Coming fast.
She ducked behind the shelving, heart pounding so hard she feared it would echo off the walls.
Two Garden guards entered the room—hooded, masked, moving with quiet certainty. They did not search. They did not speak. They walked directly to the table. One lifted Jimmy’s shirt.
“How long until he is ready?” one guard asked.
The other replied, “The High Mother believes he has already begun accepting his purpose. The Bloom will follow.”
“I heard he was resisting.”
“At first. They always do.”
Sassy’s fingers curled painfully around the edge of the shelf.
“He asks for her,” the guard added. “For the Bloom.”
“But not with fear,” the guard continued. “With devotion. With longing. He wants her here.”
Sassy pressed a shaking hand over her mouth, fighting the scream building in her throat.
It wasn’t true.
It couldn’t be true.
Jimmy wouldn’t…
He couldn’t…
But the way they said it—
calm
certain
unshaken—
felt like a blow to her chest.
“He is aligning,” the guard finished. “Soon, he will not resist.”
“Then prepare the Chamber.”
Jimmy’s shirt was placed back on the table with reverent precision. The guards turned and left. Silence returned.
Sassy waited until her legs stopped threatening collapse before stepping out, the lamp glowing weakly in her hand. Her heart was a storm.
“This is manipulation,” she said holding back a flood of emotion. “This is lies. They’re twisting him. He’s scared. He’s alone.”
But the words didn’t comfort her the way they should have. Because the guards had spoken with the easy confidence of people who’d witnessed a hundred similar transformations. Because the room smelled like ritual, like supplication, like surrender. Because his shirt wasn’t tossed aside in violence—It was laid out like an offering.
Sassy staggered back into the corridor, gripping the lamp so tightly the metal bit into her palm.
She didn’t notice the faint smear of ash on the floor where her boot stepped. Nor did she notice the watching eyes in a shadowed alcove behind her.
Wren.
Sassy nearly collided with Wren when the girl stepped out into the light of the lamp, panting, terrified.
“You’re alive,” Sassy said. “How did you find me?”
Wren didn’t answer. Her face was pale, eyes too wide.
“What’s wrong?” Sassy asked.
Wren swallowed. Her voice was almost lost in the darkness.
“I heard the guards talking,” she said. “The ones searching for you.”
“And?” Sassy pressed.
Wren hesitated—then forced the words out:
“They said the Protector… isn’t fighting them anymore.”
Sassy felt her knees go weak.
Wren grabbed her arms. “Sassy. Listen to me. If the Protector accepts the Garden, even a little, they’ll use him to pull you back. He’s the key. You’re the lock.”
Sassy’s throat closed.
Wren’s voice cracked:
“And if he willingly walks toward them again…you won’t be able to stop him.”
Before Sassy could respond, a thunderous crack split the tunnel. The ground trembled. Stone dust rained from the ceiling. An alarm bell began to ring somewhere deep below.
Wren’s eyes widened. “They know someone entered from the upper levels. They’re sealing the passages.”
“We have to go!” Sassy shouted.
She grabbed Wren’s wrist, running blindly down the corridor— Only for the floor ahead of them to split with a deafening roar. Sassy stumbled backward as the stone collapsed into a deep ravine, separating her from Wren.
Wren’s scream echoed as she fell backward into another branching tunnel.
“WREN!” Sassy cried.
“I’m okay!” Wren shouted faintly. “But we’re separated! Find another way forward!”
Sassy sobbed uncontrollably. “I can’t lose you too!”
“You won’t!” Wren called. “But Sassy—listen!”
Sassy wiped her eyes, blinking away dust.
Wren’s voice echoed faintly:
“If Jimmy has crossed the threshold…you must be the one to break him out. No one else can.”
Then the echo faded.
Sassy stood alone.
Lamp shaking.
Heart breaking.
And somewhere in the labyrinth—Jimmy was moving.
Changing.
Aligning.
Whether he chose it
or whether the Garden chose it for him—
Sassy could no longer tell. But she knew one thing:
She still loved him.
And she would go as deep as the Garden dared to take him
to rip him back out.