I licked my lips, knowing I was taking a chance. “Like the other ambassadors?”

The old man didn’t look at me, but I saw the tension run across his shoulders and his eyes watered suddenly, as if he were on the verge of tears.

Looked like I’d hit my mark, but even so, he said nothing of my question.

“Well, here we are. The kitchens. If I can make a suggestion as to the fare you are about to partake?” He turned to face me, eyes serious.

“Of course.”

“I find the fruit to be the best form of sustenance these days. Only the fruit. And perhaps a little rainwater from the outer levels.” He gave me a wink and I bowed to him a second time.

“I will accede to your wisdom. Thank you.”

He said nothing more, only turned and continued down the hall to wherever it was he was going.

I watched him until he was out of sight, around the corner, the steady thump of his cane fading. Putting a hand to the doors, I tugged. They were locked, though I wasn’t terribly surprised. If you’re going to poison the food, you aren’t going to just leave it out for anyone to get into.

I pulled my dagger from my vest and worked it between the door and the wall. Jiggling and turning, I was rewarded with a soft click of the door opening. Looking at the blade, I was surprised it hadn’t cracked with the force I’d exerted. If I made it back to the Rim . . . no, when I made it back to the Rim, I hoped Ash would hold to his word and teach me the art of blacksmithing.

I slipped through the door and into the room, dim shadows obscuring everything. Everything except the muffled whispers and the subtle movement of bodies crouching low to the ground.

I tightened my grip on my dagger and stepped into the room. Children’s voices, high and uncertain, whispered to each other and pulled me forward.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. She’s not an Undine.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m an Ender from the Rim. Who are you?”

A tiny head popped up from behind a kitchen table. A young Undine, maybe ten years old, his eyes sunken into his head and cheeks hollow with hunger. “We just came to get something to eat.”

I put my dagger away, tucking it under my vest. Not easy to grab, but I didn’t want to lose it. The two children watched me and I was reminded kids were often far more honest than any adult.

So while the old man had given good advice, a second opinion wouldn’t hurt. “Me too. Perhaps you can help me. Is there anything in here that hasn’t been tainted with puffer fish?”

The little boy searched around and finally handed me a large mango. “Here, the fruit is clean. Everything else has puffer in it by the smell.” He gave a loud sniff to emphasize his point. I was glad the old man had been telling the truth, at least.

I took the proffered fruit, peeled the skin with my teeth then bit into it as I watched the two kids, twins by the looks of them, scurry around the kitchen. “What are your names?”

“No, we can’t tell you that.” The boy shook his head. “You could tell . . . Requiem”—he stumbled over the name—“we were here and he would send his sharks to eat us.”

His sister nodded. “They’d skin us alive.”

How a shark could skin them alive, I didn’t know, but a child’s fears were always based on true possibility.

It seemed as though everyone within the Deep was afraid to be known.

Another direction then. “Why do you take the food from here? Why not just go fishing?”

They stopped and the boy looked up at me. “Requiem made it so all the fish will only come to him. Mama said it’s so we will make him king because he will feed us then. Mama hates him.”

I rocked back on my heels, eating my mango, wondering how far I could push the questions. “Do you two know where the princess’s rooms are?”

The little boy didn’t stop stuffing his bag as he answered. “No one does. She’s hidden away.”

Now that was interesting. How was it that no one could know where the crown princess was? Or maybe they just didn’t know because they were kids.

I gathered more fruit, mostly mangoes and bananas, when a thought struck me. “How did you two get in here anyway? The door was locked.”

Grinning, the little boy pointed at the grate under his feet. “Pipes run all under the Deep. Since you’re an Terraling, you just got to be able to hold your breath.” He stepped off the grate, slid his fingers through it and flicked it open. He and his sister—with their bags of food—slid into the water, pulling the grate closed over them with barely a splash.

With the children gone, I slipped out of the kitchen and made my way to our room. The matter of the food being withheld from the people explained a lot. The lack of motivation, the sheer fact so few people were up and around and those who were barely registered anyone around them. The only ones eating well were those at the banquet. The nobles and high-ranking officials.

There was a light under the door of our room when I reached it. I knocked softly. “Bella.”

The sound of feet and voices . . . I jiggled the handle, a thread of fear slicing through me. “Bella.”

Feet on the padded floor, the rustle of cloth and then the door opened, but it was not who I expected to be standing there.

Familiar honey-gold eyes stared into mine, blond hair catching the light. His leather vest was open at the throat, baring an expanse of sun-darkened skin. “Ender, your timing as always is impeccable.”