But where’s Kit?
“Should we keep going?” I ask Aster, who nods his head, pulling me close against his side and venturing forward.
The pages batter us from every angle, slapping my arms, my torso and legs. They slice every patch of bare skin they can find until my hands are bleeding, dripping onto the floor. Aster keeps my headtucked against his chest, so I avoid the worst of it as we run as quickly as we can until we reach the doorway at the other side of the room.
Thankfully, this door opens easily, and we step into blessed silence. Aster pulls back, peering down at me and checking every inch of me for injury, even though his face is bleedinga lot.There’s a nasty slice right beside his eye that could have been a lot worse if it had been only millimetres to the right.
Aster grips my hand as I grab a handkerchief from my pocket and dab at his poor, bleeding face.
“I’m all right. They’re just scratches.”
“I hate this place,” I spit the words, lifting my head to see what fresh nightmare we’ve stepped into.
But this room is... empty.
The walls are dark brown, and the floor seems to be some kind of dark tile, but there’s nothing in here. No furniture. No hint of anyone having been here in years.
It takes me a moment to see the other thing that’s missing.
“There’s no door.”
Twisting around, I look for the door we just came through. Heading back to the screaming book room would be better than getting stuck in here; the room of poor interior design choices.
But that door has disappeared too.
I turn back to Aster, more frustrated than afraid. “Is it another glamour, do you think? If I feel around the walls, do you think I’ll be able to find the—” I cut off, eyes locked on something on the floor just over Aster’s shoulder.
There is something else in this room, after all.
No. Not something.Someone.
“Kit?”
I scramble toward the body on the ground that surely wasn’t there a moment ago. Dropping to my knees hard enough to send a jarring jolt of pain through me, I reach out to touch him. His eyesare closed, his hair a tangled mess covering his forehead. But it’s most definitely him.
“Kit?”
I touch his pale cheek and find it ice cold. His hands and arms are too. My heart rises into my throat as I flap around, desperately feeling for the pulse in his neck, his wrist,anywhere.
“No, no, no, no.” I’d have felt it, wouldn’t I? I wouldknowif something had happened to him.
I spin on my knees, searching for Aster. “It’s a glamour, right? Tell me it’s a glamour.”
But Aster isn’t beside me. He’s across the room.
Lying on the ground.
Cold dread fills my veins and I choke on nothing. Crawling over to him on my hands and knees, I shake him, but he’s floppy and unresponsive. Turning my head, I find another body.
Torin. His blond hair has come loose from its usual knot and is spilling all over his forehead. Beside him, lies Jack and... Captain Finch.
I squeeze my eyes shut. What the fuck is going on here? None of this makes sense. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the bile rising in my throat and the tightness in my chest, I focus on the bonds with Kit and Aster.
They’re faint, but still present.
I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t feel like that if they were both dead.
I stare down at Torin’s face and run my hands over his arms. They feel real enough.
