on his haunches with his arms draped over his knees, breathless. “Never . . . never mind. It’s gone now.” He flopped down on his backside and gave her a weak smile. A glimmer slowly returned to his eyes.
Sapphira sat down next to him, her own breaths pumping in time with his. “If you tell me the words, maybe I can help you figure out how to battle it.”
He shook his head and averted his eyes. “I’d really rather not.”
Sapphira shrugged her shoulders. “Suit yourself.” But she didn’t really mean it. Whatever that song was, it must have been pure poison, and it didn’t seem right to let her friend battle it alone.
Elam nodded toward the spot where Sapphira had landed. “Morgan sometimes shows up over there, just like you did, but she glides down in the form of a raven. I guess she likes checking up on her prisoner once in a while. Not that she needs to, since there’s no way to escape. No matter how far you walk or which direction you go, you always end up back here.” He flicked his head toward the sky. “Now if you can teach me how to fly like you did, maybe I can get out of here after all.”
“I’m not sure how I did that,” Sapphira said, tapping her torch on the street, “but I have another idea that might work.”
Elam leaped to his feet. “I just saw someone. A man.” He grabbed Sapphira’s elbow and pulled her up, keeping his body in front of her.
Sapphira laid her hands on Elam’s shoulders and peeked around his head. “I see him, and a woman, too. They’re coming this way.”
As the pair walked slowly along the path toward the brick kilns, Elam’s voice lowered to a whisper. “They’re walking hand in hand. That’s a good sign.”
“Good enough for me.” With her torch on her shoulder, Sapphira strode right up to the pair. “Do you two live here?” she asked.
The couple, a middle-aged man and a woman in her thirties, kept walking. Sapphira had to jump out of the way to keep from being bowled over. She ran in front of them again, walking backwards as she spoke. “I was just wondering if you knew anything about this place. Is there a way out or any food anywhere?”
The pair ignored her. They both looked around wide-eyed, as if they were lost or dumbstruck.
Sapphira jumped out of the way again and followed them, scratching her head. Elam joined her. “Maybe they speak another language,” he offered.
“I could try another language, but they act like I’m not even here, like they can’t see me at all.” She sidled up to the man and tapped him on the shoulder, raising her voice. “Hello! Do you understand what I’m saying?” No response. Not even a glance. Sapphira pulled on his elbow. Again, no response. Finally, she leaped in front of him and held up both hands, but he bumped into her, knocking her flat on her back, and stepped right on her stomach. He paused for a moment, said something inaudible to the woman, then kept going.
Elam jumped to her side and helped her sit upright. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Sapphira laid a hand on her stomach. “I don’t get it. He didn’t weigh much at all.”
Elam pulled her to her feet. “Think they’re ghosts?”
“I doubt it. I felt his elbow when I pulled on it, and he knocked me over.” She picked up her torch and stared at the strolling pair. With all the crazy pits and portals in this place, maybe they were in another dimension. She pressed her lips together and hummed, “I wonder . . .”
“Wonder what?”
Twirling the torch in her palm, she watched the couple round a bend and disappear from sight. “I wonder if there’s another way to communicate with them, maybe in a different place.”
“A different place? But they’re right here.”
She looped her arm around his elbow. “Come on. I’ll show you.” With Elam hustling to keep up, she ran back to the rise where the tower had stood and marched straight toward the center. As she looked out over the city with her enhanced vision, she could see the couple back at the kilns, now with more detail than before. Worry lines etched the woman’s brow and cheeks, making her look older somehow, much older. The man pointed at various objects, as though he were explaining them to the woman. His face seemed friendly and wise, but his