Page 152 of Shades of Silver City

“No…” A cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. “Absolutely not, Scathe. Not you. Not today.” The sure signs of a dreamdust high in my furry companion bring bile up my throat. Did he somehow inhale some?

Clenching Scathe’s fur beneath my fists, I turn to Archer.

“Archer!” I scream. “Wake up! Archer, please.” My voice cracks. “I don’t know what to do.” Wrapping my arms around Scathe and holding him to my chest, I mumble into his fur again and again, “I don’t know what to do.”

On the other side of Scathe’s body, I glimpse the now empty baggie on the ground.

There’s a puncture in it.

Likely from Scathe’s canine tooth.

“Oh Gods, no.”

No no no no no.

This is my fault.

“I can’t lose you!” I cry out into Scathe’s fur. “I love you, Scathe. I can’t lose you.”

Everything is silent, save for my sobs, as I wait for that familiar sarcastic voice to fill my head.

His panting becomes dangerously rapid. Everything in me shouts to back away from him, to get away before the dust takes hold. I’ve seen what it does to people—what it did to Reed.

“I’m not leaving you,” I say like the Gods-damned idiot I am. “Sirius save us both, but I am not leaving you.”

Scathe’s breathing slows, and my breath hitches. A blossom of hope opens its petals inside of me. Is he fighting the dust somehow? Is he okay?

I lean back to look at Scathe’s eyes, and my heart drops when he immediately looses a predatory growl, snapping his sharp fangs at me.

“No—” My voice goes hoarse, silent, as he lunges at me.

I barely have time to lift my hands up and block my face before his teeth sink into the fleshy part of my forearm. White-hot fire shoots through me.

I scream in desperation.

While facing the end of my road, the tiny, locked box in my heart opens, and words bubble out of my mouth without my consent.

“I love you, Archer,” I whisper before blinding pain consumes my consciousness.

"The antithesis of life is death, and the opposite of a soul is…a void. I aim to delve into uncharted territories of soul-magic, venturing beyond the limits of our current understandings, including the intersection of death magic and life magic.”

-Excerpt from the personal journal of Dr. Claude Foster, Director of Faeology at Mesmeric Labs

CHAPTER 36

FANTASIA

Iwake to an angelic being hovering over me. His tan skin and dark-blond hair are gilded by the bright light above him.

“Archer?” I croak, pushing myself to a sitting position.

“Don’t move—”

His words are eclipsed by a sharp pain that shoots through my arm, so intense that my vision turns to spots. I bite back a scream.

“Scathe?” I moan, squeezing my eyes shut.

“The bite isn’t that bad. I stopped the bleeding. His venom is working its way out of your bloodstream now. The pain will subside any second now that you’re awake.”

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