This is not how I’m supposed to die.
Before I can consider the consequences, I jolt forward, reaching for the Script in Sil’s hands, like I’ll be able to stop him from ending my life, from reeling my cast back to this cage. Like I’ll be able to search its pages and find Jude between its lines, discover some way to call him back.
But my legs go numb, and Sil laughs pityingly when my knees hit the marble with acrack, just barely out of reach. Though even from here, the power purring over the Script’s pages feels hot enough to rip through my skin. It probably would have shredded my flesh if I had managed to grab it.
“There’s no need for all this drama, Riven,” Sil says as I stare up at him with a hatred that burns at my core. “You’re eager to know how your story ends! That’s perfectly understandable. I’ll show you what it says.”
I don’t want to know. And yet—I can’t help but look as he leans down, tilts the Script in his palms so I can see the words. Before me, the pages almost seem to pulse, tobreathewith power that has leashed us for ages.
And I begin to read.
Frost threads up my spine, wraps its chill around my heart as I go—drinking in words that throttle control over my castmates’ lives.
Words meant to end mine entirely.
Each one cuts into my skin, sinks into my bones. But especially the last two:
Nyxene enters.
The doors at the back of the auditorium fly open.
Instinct shouts at me to move, but a primal sort of terror slams into my chest, freezes me in place as a thick torrent of shadows bursts through the doors, moving toward me like a storm cloud.
Then the darkness gathers shape, unfolding into a monstrous, massive heap of twisted, overly long limbs that taper into obsidian claws.
The walls of the auditorium creak, like the weight of Nyxene crawling through the entrance will rip them down. Then I hear it: a low, animalistic clacking, drowned out by a cursed chorus of tangling whispers, hissing and unrecognizable, uttered in vile tones that fill my ears.
A scream catches in my throat, and I choke it back. My eyes widen, following those branch-like limbs as they stretch longer, skittering and clattering up the dome all the way to the catwalk, then slinking down the scarlet curtain—and tearing it clean through the center like expensive paper.
And within the darkness, a dozen quicksilver eyes.
Nyxene.
All at once, the marble feels like someone’s spilled ice over it. I buckle, inhaling, but the air thins in my lungs, too cold to breathe. My own name slips my mind.
The horrid whispering and clacking from the back of the auditorium creeps forward, accompanied by sharp, jutting movements as Nyxene closes in on the front row, each piercingclickprickling across my skin like pins. I flinch away, my breaths coming so quick that my vision starts to spin.
“It’s as I told you, Riven.” I clench my teeth and open my eyes as Sil shakes his head down at me, that smile never faltering. “Characters who are too aware are of no use to me. I did try to avoid this.”
Gripping my fists so hard that my nails bite into my palms, I steel myself and dare a glance back at the velvet seats.
Nyxene’s shadows skulk through the orchestra pit now, those jagged claws reaching for me, a beast cornering its prey.
Panic clutches at my heart as I tear my gaze from the sight, searching the words Sil holds before my face as Gene flashes through my mind. The day the shadows tore her apart. Not just her role butallof her. The memories seize me as I stare at the Script, at the end of my story.
Second Death.
Fate bows to no man.
If this is mine, Fate will not take me without a fight.
I gasp for breath, but the air feels like icicles stabbing my lungs as I draw on my strength—praying I havesomeleft.
But as Nyxene crawls onto the stage, I can’t seem to get to my feet. I grasp for my Craft, steeling myself to fight, ready to do it alone. Still, part of me looks to Jude for help, knowing deep down it’s in vain.
There’s no comfort to be found in his eyes, just a glittering edge of amusement that has bile rising at the back of my throat. I should have run when I had the chance. I should have gone with the others.
There’s a way out. There has to be—
