For a second, everything went silent.
He coughed and rolled onto his side. The tunnel behind him had vanished, buried under a mountain of stone. The faint daylight had become a full, blinding glare.
“Blaze!” Marisol’s voice was right outside now, hoarse and raw.
“Here,” he rasped. “I’m here.”
She appeared through the dust. Her silhouette was framed against the gray dawn. Her rifle was slung over her back, and her hair was wild and tangled. Her face was streaked with soot, but her eyes were alive.
“You look like hell,” she said when she finally saw his face.
“Feels worse,” he said.
She crouched beside him, brushing dust from his face with trembling fingers. “You’re bleeding.”
“Not bad,” Blaze muttered. “Just the mountain tryin’ to say goodbye.”
He tried to sit up, and she steadied him. “You shouldn’t have gone in alone,” she said sharply.
“Didn’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“Not this time.” He looked back toward the buried shaft. “It’s done. Wilder’s gone.”
Her face tightened. “Then it’s over.”
He shook his head slowly. “Not yet. Rachel’s still out there.”
Marisol stared at him, worry mixing with disbelief. “After all that, you still think of her first.”
“She’s my sister,” he replied.
Marisol smiled faintly despite herself. “Then we go find her.”
Another rumble rolled through the earth beneath them, dull and distant. Blaze turned back toward the mine entrance. The dust rising from the collapsed tunnel shimmered in the early light. It was almost beautiful.
“So much gold,” he murmured. “All buried.”
“Good,” Marisol said coldly. “Let it rot with them.”
He didn’t answer. His mind was still far away, back in that lamplit chamber, with Wilder’s sneer and that damned poster.
She touched his arm gently. “Blaze, look at me.”
He met her eyes.
“Whatever he said,” she told him, “don’t you let it live in you.”
His throat tightened. “You didn’t hear him.”
“I don’t need to,” she replied. “I know you.”
He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t. The air still tasted of dust and smoke, and every word he might’ve said felt heavy. He just nodded instead.
Marisol stood, glancing toward the cliffs where faint gunfire still echoed. “We’re not out of danger yet.”
Blaze pushed himself upright, swaying a little. His coat was torn, his face streaked with blood and grime, but his eyes were ready for more.
