“How are there no lost here?” he asked Felix.
“Ask your anchored friends,” was Felix’s dry response. He was quiet a moment before he asked, “How long have you been sick?”
August hadn’t expected that question. “Does it matter?”
Felix would kill him before the darkness did.
“It doesn’t, really. I’m just curious.”
August didn’t want to talk about this. Especially not withhim. But Felix’s gaze was steady, familiar, and August found himself answering.
“Since that night. It’s slowly been getting worse.” He glanced down at his hands, his stomach twisting at the sight of the darkened veins now creeping toward his fingertips. It had never spread this quickly before. He hadn’t even used his power. “Well, itwasslow. I don’t know what changed.”
He’d be lucky to make it another week at this rate.
“Maybe it’s the proximity,” Felix offered. “We’re close to Fallowmoor.”
“A little tear in the veil couldn’t cause all this.”
Felix swung his legs off the bed to sit up, pushing his light hair away from his face. “A little tear?” His brow tightened. “Do you really not remember what you did?”
August threw up his hands, but the rough rope bit into his wrists, making the movement awkward and agonizing. “I don’t know! I remember opening a doorway to escape fromyou.”
Felix’s face softened, his eyes fixed straight ahead. “It wasn’t a doorway, Aesling. It was a black tide. You destroyed blocks of the city.”
August let out a short bark of a laugh, the sound brittle. No. That wasn’t possible. He was lying.
“It’s still spreading, from what I’ve heard,” Felix continued. “Growing faster every day. Soon there won’t be any Fallowmoor left to save.”
“I don’t believe you,” said August.
Felix’s gentle expression shuttered. “I don’t need you to.”
Hehadto be lying. August wasn’t powerful. He couldn’t have done that. He couldn’t cause that kind of destruction. What Felix was describing . . . blocks of the city . . .
He searched Lottie’s face for confirmation, but her frown revealed her uncertainty. She was anchored to her dagger, and when he left Fallowmoor, he’d taken it with him. She didn’t know.
August curled forward, head resting heavily on his bound hands as he struggled to pull air into his lungs. The room was spinning.
Lying. Felix was lying.
“Breathe, Aesling. I need you alive.”
But it made sense. If the veil was wide open and spreading, it would explain his sickness. The symptoms mirrored the aftereffects of the Hollow Dark. And they were getting worse the closer they drew. If Felix was telling the truth, there was still a way to stop it.
Could the solution really be that simple? Close the tear and live? Would the darkness in his veins simply fade? Why not? It had the other times. He straightened, hope blooming in his chest. Maybe he didn’t have to die. Maybe he could save himself. But unless he lost Felix and Marlow, it wouldn't matter. Felix would still kill him.
He glanced up at Lottie, who was watching him curiously. He’d get her dagger back while Felix slept, drive it through his heart, and run.
They all jumped as the door flew open.
“Get up,” Marlow snapped. “We’re going. Now!”
“What happened?” Felix asked as he hopped up from the bed. He winced and doubled over, his hand going to his knee.
Marlow pushed aside the curtain and threw open the window. “Ciaran knows we’re here.” She leaned out, looked down at the street below, and cursed. “It’s too high.”
“As in, here in the city, or . . . ” Felix left the question open.
