There was shouting. Shuffling feet. The groaning of shifting metal and wood.

“I’m coming for you,” he shouted again.

Twin ropes of blinding light unfurled from the entrance and slithered across the floor. The haze of the smoke gave them an eerie halo that surrounded me as they curled around my ribcage and tugged me forward. I grabbed for the two men, but my muscles were too weak, my grip unable to hold on.

“No,” I panted. “Not me. Them—get them out first.”

Again, the glowing cords attempted to yank me forward, leaving the two men behind. “No, Luther,” I growled, louder. “Savethem.”

I grabbed one of the luminous tendrils and peeled it off my body. As my hand brushed against Luther’s magic, the sensation that thrummed along my skin was unlike anything I’d ever felt—like starlight made solid, like holding a shaving of the moon in my hands. It seemed almost to flow into me and coat my body in a shimmering, silvery sheen.

A tingling burst of energy exploded up my arms and bloomed through my chest, dulling the bite of my fatigue and renewing my focus. I took the strands of light and wrapped them like a binding around the wrists of the unconscious man. Luther’s magic hummed at my touch, and I swore I heard a distant harmony that went silent the moment I let them go.

“Pull—now,” I yelled. “Pull!”

The cords went taut. I collapsed on my side as the two men slid as one, slowly but surely inching toward the opening until they could move no further.

The fallen beams barricading the door began to lift, bolstered by a dome of sparkling blue light. It was excruciatingly slow, and the nest of logs was so splintered I was sure it would give way at any second, but I watched with awe and exquisite relief as hands reached through the smoke, and the two injured guards disappeared out into the night.

An absurd, exhausted laugh bubbled from my chest. I’d done it—they were safe. Severely wounded and possibly forever scarred, but alive.

Maybe they were terrible men. Maybe they’d tortured mortals, or executed children under the progeny laws, or done any number of other horrific things. Maybe someday I would regret giving them a second chance.

But at least for today, I’d saved their lives. In a way, they’d saved mine, too.

The rustle of shifting wood warned me the opening wouldn’t hold much longer. I struggled to my feet and staggered forward, my bone-tired legs swaying precariously.

Luther strode through the now-widened entrance, his fearsome profile haloed by the bright city lights beyond, and our eyes met in the darkness.

We both froze in place as something ancient, something profound passed between us. It was a primal force that transcended word and thought, as powerful as a crack of lightning, a child’s first breath, the endless depth of the sea. It was not of this world but entirely woven within it. It warmed my blood with a calming peace I’d never known, yet filled me with the terrible dread of a fate I could not avoid.

A vision came to me. The same one I’d had before—a battlefield drenched in silver flame and strewn with dead bodies in a circle at my feet, my body clad in glittering onyx armor and a gilded, night-black blade in my hand. Only this time, I wasn’t alone.

The shadowed figure I’d seen before was now visible, as if he’d thrown off a great cloak of darkness, the jeweled sword in his hand dripping with crimson blood. When I looked into those familiar eyes, the most beautiful, heart-wrenching ache burned against the left side of my chest. I covered it with my palm, and on the other side of the field, the figure mirrored the movement.

The vision ended, twinkling in the air as it faded like mist in the sun. The battlefield became a burning warehouse, its silver flames darkening to an angry red-orange, and the scattered bodies dissolved into fallen rubble, but the figure I’d seen remained. His pale gaze was still locked on me, his palm still flat against his chest, as was my own.

“Diem,” he whispered.

“Luther,” I answered.

He reached his other hand out and took a single step in my direction.

Crack.

The sound came from above.

I broke his stare and looked up to see a massive beam, then another, detach from its joist.

Everything moved in slow motion.

Wooden rafters drifted toward me.

Luther’s mouth opened, lips forming my name, eyes wide with horror.

My trembling hand stretched for his.

The sky was falling.