Felix swiped the dripping strands of hair from his face. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
With a sharp exhale, August held out his hand, and Felix helped him off the ground.
He straightened, staring down the darkness like an adversary before he finally said, “Wait here.”
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t close it from here,” August said. “It’s too big. But maybe if I go to the place where it opened, I can pull it back in.”
Felix shook his head. August couldn’t go back. The last two times had left him drained, on the edge of death. He could barely stay on his feet now. What if he collapsed before reaching the market square?
What if he never came back?
“You won’t survive this,” Felix argued.
“At least it’ll save you the trouble of killing me.”
He moved to step through, but Felix caught his hand. August’s eyes fell to their clasped hands, lingered there, then rose, slow and uncertain, to meet his gaze.
Let him go.
Why was Felix stopping him? What did it matter if the Hollow Dark killed him? Why did he care if August didn’t come back?
“I’m coming with you.” Felix’s own words took him by surprise.
August’s fingers twitched against his. He tilted his head, clearly confused. “It’s too far.”
Of course, he was right. The last time Felix had traveled that distance in the Hollow Dark, it had taken an entire day to recover. This was something August had to do alone.
It took every ounce of strength Felix had to let go of his hand.
“Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Take all the glory for yourself.”
August almost smiled.
“But you’d better come back. We are not done.”
A moment of hesitation, then August vanished.
Felix walked backwards—not daring to take his eyes off the darkness, even for a second—and sagged against the damp, cold stone wall of an empty building to wait.
The moment August crossed the veil, the tightness in his chest vanished. The heavy silence of the Hollow Dark seemed to welcome him back, its numbing chill like a comforting embrace.
He studied his hands, turning them slowly. The blackened veins stretched to his fingertips, still filled with whatever was coursing through him. But here, he didn’t feel like he was dying. No pain, no tightness.
Hecouldn’tdie, he reminded himself. Not here. This place belonged to him, and he to it.
August’s feet easily carried him forward, his weight no longer a burden.
He was strong here. He belonged.
Unhurriedly, he walked, taking in the city, the dull, grey buildings, the dead vines reaching across their faces. He ignored the sea of anchored mists. They couldn’t hurt him. Nobody could.
When he finally reached the edge of the market square, he stopped, marking the spot where he’d first collided with Felix, then the place where he’d ripped open the tear to save him.
It felt like another life. Another person.
His gaze drifted to the spot where Lottie had bled out beside him. Right before Felix put a bullet through his chest.
