Rose tilted her head, her eyes glowing faintly. "Left," she said.
"How do you know?" Zoey asked.
"I don't. But that's the path the roots want us to take."
They moved again, deeper now. The tunnel narrowed, forcing them to walk closer, sometimes brushing chest to back. The heat increased. Beads of sweat slipped along Jude's neck, but he didn't stop. Neither did the women. Their breath began to sync, a collective rhythmten bodies moving with one pulse.
The path widened again into a cavern shaped like a great hollow heart. Thick roots coiled around the edges like ribs, and in the center rose a platform of polished stone, oval-shaped and smooth as glass. Atop it rested something glowing faintlya small orb, no larger than a curled fist, pulsing golden-red like the core of a sun.
Rose exhaled. "That's it."
"What is it?" Emma asked, stepping closer.
"The island's beginning," Lucy whispered. "Its first breath."
