Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
I have no idea where I am, how close to the Black Cavern. My skin is clammy, cold sweat soaking through my clothes. I wrap my arms around myself, the too-big jacket giving slight comfort.
“Valen?” I whisper the thought of him, hoping to feel him somewhere out in the dark, hoping he’s still alive.
But there is nothing. Just the creaking of the train carriage and the whine of metal on metal.
The carriage begins to slow, and I peer into the dark looking for some sign of the vampires, of Gregor.
It jolts to a hard stop.
I wait.
Silence.
But my need to complete my task gets me on my feet. I step out of the carriage though I can’t see the ground. My feet aren’t concerned. They keep me moving.
I walk up a flight of stairs, my heart pumping like I’ve run a mile, and then another. Two more and I’m on level ground. A thin shaft of light shines far ahead, and I realize I’m in another tunnel, this one with no tracks.
The light reveals more black stone, the way ahead fading into pitch again. When I pass through the ray, I realize it’s sun. I must be closer to the surface here, wherever here is. But I can’t stop to figure it out. My head throbs at the thought of delaying.
So I continue into the dark until I come to some sort of obstruction. I clamber over it, the sharp rocks cutting my hands and tearing at my clothes. It must’ve been some sort of cave-in. Then I remember what Whitbine said: the tracks no longer reach the Black Cavern. Gregor didn’t want anyone to have easy access to him. This must be the workaround for it, the only way to get there without meeting daylight.
My foot catches on something, and I tumble forward. I try to catch myself, but I cut myself on a rock, my head knocking against a larger boulder as I slide to a halt. My skin burns, my body aching, but I get up. I must get up.
Again, I call out for Valen. For some sign that he’s alive. I stumble onward, the path slanting downward, the air growing steadily colder. I hear water in the distance, first a dripping and then more. An underground torrent, fresh water in the dark. I want to put my burning hands into it. Wash away the blood, ease the pain. But it’s farther away now, my feet dedicated to my death march.
Is this how it was always going to end? I don’t know. But I can go to my death with the knowledge that I did everything I could to find a cure, to ensure humanity survives despite the plague, despite the war. Now I know it was the only possible way I could’ve begun to balance the scales. Because I created Death. I created a plague for the vampires, a compound that is 100 percent fatal, and I gave it to the humans. It was the price. It was what I had to pay for a chance to show them that they don’t need to use it. Stopping Gregor. I have to try. Even if it’s impossible. Even if it means the end. I still have to try. For me. For Valen. For Melody. For Coal and Druin and Evie and Wyatt—for all the ones I love and the ones who could be worthy of love.
“Georgia,” a shape in the dark whispers.
I turn toward the sound, but I can’t stop.
“Take this.” I feel something cold and metallic slide up the sleeve of my jacket. “It’s your only chance.”
“Fatima?”
“Don’t miss,” she hisses. “He’ll let you get close. He isn’t afraid of you. Use it to your advantage.” She’s gone in the same breath, her presence dissipating as I continue my pace on the downward slope.
I clutch the hilt of the blade she slipped me. I’m no fighter. She knows that. But I’ll take whatever help I can get at this point, even if I don’t know why she’s offering it. I don’t even know why she left that note in my room, telling me to go outside. She’s working with Gage, but why? She was always three steps ahead, maybe even more in her current form.
The terrain changes, my foot slipping on loose gravel before I get my balance.
A familiar scent wafts through the chilly air. Rot. I’m closer now. So close that the pull I feel is drawing my gaze upward. Gregor. He’s above me somewhere.
Mechanically, I trudge along, the floor leveling out, the smell of decay growing and overwhelming me. Lights appear along the corridor ahead of me, the same kind that were in my cell of the Black Cavern’s dungeons.
My stomach sinks. I’m here. I’m back where I started.
I turn and climb a staircase hewn into the black stone. It spirals at first, around and around I go for so many steps that my legs and lungs burn as I struggle. The pull is like thorns under my skin, barbed wire embedded in my dermis.