I try to catch her gaze. The world is war around us. Cables are torn, lights flicker, rotting flesh drips from the beast’s skin. Yet the music holds, shrill and vibrant, pushing back the shadows.
Her hand clamps mine. She looks at me—not with fear this time, but something fragile, blazing.
“Kursk…” she whispers.
“I love you,” I say, louder than I’ve ever said anything. It rings hollow and true.
Before she can respond, the world rips.
The Vorfaluka lunges at me with inhuman speed. One face snarls, the other shapes itself into my brother’s features—mocking, twisted. Its claws dig into my arm. I stagger. Pain like molten glass. The sound of amps warps, the blues shatters into static.
It grabs me then, hands thick with rot. They clamp around my torso, pulling me forward. The Veil behind it—shimmering, torn edges of this reality—gapes. I fight; I twist; my blade slices its arm, but its grip is unbreakable.
“Olivia!” I scream, voice tearing.
Her hand reaches out, fingers brushing mine: warm, soft, begging.
I try to hold on. But the rot pulls me in; the Veil swallows me. The last thing I see is her mouth open, screaming my name.
Then I vanish.
Silence crashes like a tidal wave. The battery wagon’s engine dies. Amps go dark. The cavern stills. Olivia’s scream echoes, then chokes. The world holds its breath.
CHAPTER 19
OLIVIA
Kursk is gone.
Silence drops in the cave like lead. His absence is worse than his scream. Worse than anything I ever imagined. I stand, chest pounding, hands shaking, eyes wild with need—but there’s only echo. Only stone and collapsing cavern and my own ragged breathing.
Behind me, Booger claws at dirt, trying to pull rocks off fallen amps. Burnout screams, Peggy Sue sobs mumbles. They yell my name. I don’t answer. I can still hear Kursk—just barely—on the edge of the Veil. Faint. A crack in the world where his voice trembles, says my name.
I stagger forward, shaking. Something inside me breaks. I can’t stand this half-world without him.
“No,” I whisper, voice raw. “No. I refuse.”
“Olivia!” Peggy Sue lunges. Her hand on my shoulder, dusty, trembling. “Come out. It isn’t safe.”
I pull away. “He’s there. I can hear him.”
Burnout shines a light over the cracked rune-floor. Cavern stones shift, heat pulses. The Vorfaluka’s laughter roils in theair, but behind it—under it—something like Kursk’s whisper:Olivia…
I stagger back toward where the Veil swirls in torn light. My vision swims. The weakened Spear shard—cold now—hungers with my grief.
Booger reaches out. “You’re gonna kill yourself out there?—”
I shake my head, shaking. “I have to follow him. I won’t be left.”
Peggy Sue’s eyes are wide. “Olivia, this is—this is madness.”
Madness tastes like ash and steel. I feel the shard in my hand. I hold it against myself where Kursk would be, over my heart, cold and lifeless. My fingers tremble around the haft.
I see his face in the fracture patterns of the Veil—half memory, half shape shifting in hell.
“Love,” I whisper. “If you can hear me… I love you.”
Then I do the unthinkable.
