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Sagan’s breath hitched and released on a sigh as Korac’s warm hands claimed her. They brushed down her arms and gently squeezed her biceps. Admittedly less substantial after losing so much muscle. His fingers caressed along her back, trailing lightly across her spine. The vertebrae became more prominent over the last month.

How long was it since she last ate actual food?

When his hands gripped the Seamswalker’s hips, the war criminal pressed his forehead to hers. A soft sound escaped him. Then another. A sniffle snapped her eyes open and brought Sagan back to him. “Korac?”

He didn’t hide his tears as he pulled her close. A loving embrace. The expectation of sex disappeared in the wake of his despair. Gently cradling her, he urged, “What will be left of you if you carry on this way?”

Tears burned her cheeks. She kissed the palm that cupped her face. “I’m so sorry. You were right. I should have looked after myself. And now—”

“You’re trapped where I can’t find you.” He lifted her from his lap and set her down, bereft.

Sagan staggered to her knees and pleaded, “Korac, I have to get back to you. To everyone. I know there’s a way. It’s just… My head… Is so very heavy…” Sinking to all fours, she rested her crown on the white surface beneath her. A dense, pale fog encroached, forcing its way between them. Separated them.

Through the ringing in her ears, her lover’s voice cracked as he cried, “Sagan, don’t go!”

From the fog came a disembodied command, “Break the Atheneum.”

Lost. So very lost.

“No matter what happens, I will not let you go.”

“I promise to never go where you can’t find me.”

Sagan would die here.

Her eyes opened. She lay with her face flattened to the cold bone floor. It cooled the burns, healing almost pre-nacre slow. Her thin, pale fingers clawed for strength as she strained to lift her head, to no avail.

Tameka.

Rayne.

Korac.

People she loved depended on her.

But as the monochromatic wasteland of the Seam—Monarch Hall—stretched on in endless arches and cathedral ceilings, Sagan knew without a doubt.

She would die here.

Unbidden, tears flushed her face. Sobs congested her and made it more difficult to breathe. Weak as she felt, she tightened her hands into fists.

This would not be Sagan’s end. Not here. Razor, the last Aegis, whatever the fuck he was—he would not get the better of her. She was a Progeny. Trained by the Traitor Prince of Cinder. Xelan wouldn’t let her lie down and take this. He’d tell her there’s time for tears and there’s time for kicking ass. Now was the ass-kicking time. Tears could come later. In Korac’s arms.

Okay, maybe not the last part since Korac was Xelan’s ex and he kinda never approved of the Seamswalker and the Icarean General. But dammit. Rayne understood. That counted.

Razor.

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White eyes. Like Korac’s. Only with two slitted pupils like vile crescent moons in each eye.

Sagan curled on her side and touched her nacre port, still accessible through the opened Lyriki coat. Her armor split apart to expose her vulnerable nudity. Always naked beneath, it was a secret meant only for Korac. How could that monster—

No.

She knew how he could do that to her. It was in the Pain Curator’s name. She refused to shame herself for reaching out to another and creating allies for her people. That was letting him win, and she was done.

In one fist, Sagan held the means of her salvation. The same as Cinder’s. Matt, that strange enigma of a human, saved her life. At the last minute of her darkest hour, he shoved the necklace—the chains the Shadow always wore—in her hand. Then he mercifully ejected her from the Emporium without realizing she couldn’t escape the Seam. She only hoped Razor missed it, and that the ginger helped her without detection.

“Thank you, Matt.” Whoa. Her voice sounded like shit. Probably from all the screaming after her loved ones.

Rolling onto her back nearly drained her reserves. Sagan dangled the pendant above her. A tiny Pretiosum Cruor. A special chamber of glass designed to hold nacre-infused blood without disintegrating the nanites. Doc Pablo and Kyle created one for each of the Shadow and filled it with the most cherished blood.

Rayne asked them to reserve these for the worst of emergencies. Unstable, unresearched, none of them knew the extent of the effects or how long they might last. Temporary. That’s all they knew. But the Tritan blood Tumu gave Jack a few weeks ago restarted his disabled nacre and cured a virus he contracted from Imminent terrorists. With Sagan’s nacre at only fifty percent, she needed the reboot.

“Rayne…”

“I’m here.”

A warm hand, almost as small as her own, filled her with life and love. Tears spilled again, but this time from gratitude and relief. In a voice hoarse with emotion, Sagan cried, “Oh, Rayne. I’m so glad to see you.”

The brunette with spectacular blue eyes came into full view. Wow, she looked great. Her black hair spilled around her like a curtain. The short blue dress with a strange rope belt brought out her eyes. And that smile…

“Were you always this pretty?”

Rayne’s laughter filled the cold space with genuine warmth. She hadn’t laughed like that since they were fourteen. Before Nox invaded her dreams and set her on a collision course with angst. That hand squeezed. Strong. “Focus, babe. You’re in peril here.”

“Are you here to rescue me?” Like the games they played when they were eight and pretended the blond Progeny was a princess locked in a tower.

The King of Earth and Cinder shook her head. Her expression softened into sadness. In her own hoarse voice, she confided, “I came because I heard you. But I can’t affect this space.” Rayne touched the glittering rope on her waist as if that explained it all. Then she glanced to the side, and Sagan had to blink. Twice.

A beach cropped up in the middle of the Seam, complete with ocean view and a boardwalk. On the near horizon, a storm gathered. Lightning struck the frothing waves. That smell. Salt, sand, sunscreen. So comforting. “Rayne.”

“It’s coming. But let me worry about that. You know what to do. If there were ever a time, it’s now.” She kissed Sagan’s hand before continuing, “Come talk to me when you finish him. I want to hear all about you ripping him apart. Promise me?”

“Oh, Elden. Do I ever.” Sagan squeezed tightly, but Rayne’s hand felt less firm. She faded. The Seamswalker’s heart jumped in her throat. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Those blue eyes sparkled almost with lightning. “Never. I’m always here.” Rayne touched Sagan’s chain. “I’ll be with you the entire time.”

Before Sagan got a word out, Rayne leaned in and kissed her. The warmth from her lips lingered long after she disappeared.

“Damn, I love her.” In response, Sagan’s heart squeezed. They missed their leader so much. But the contact in this delusional visit wasn’t real. Sadly, Rayne couldn’t touch them anymore for the Weapon in her nacre. Any touch outside of battle depleted the fuse on a three-day long bomb. Rayne regenerated the fuse by inflicting or receiving pain. Hence, sleeping in the box that drilled into her back every hour.

But if anyone could cross the galaxy to visit her friends on another plane, Rayne was the one.

With that, Sagan opened the tiny vial and quickly swallowed the coppery contents.

Fire.

Light.

A sun fueled her veins. The heat filled out her starving stomach, hydrated her shrunken muscles, and completely healed her scorched wounds. Her lungs breathed easy. Heart pumped at a perfect fifty-five beats per minute. At calm.

Color washed over the Seam. Purples. Hues of deep violet to the mauve of her own eyes. Sagan stood as if pulled by strings and took in the world through eyes gone Atramentous. The purple of the iris swallowed the white corneas, leaving a black slit for a pupil. Her wings opened and flexed for the first time in a while. Seamswalkers didn’t need to fly.

All around her, Sagan smelled the beach. And she smiled. Beamed. Time to make Razor pay—

“Seamswalker. Forgive us. Free us.”

The voices in the Seam formed a chorus of loneliness. The Aegis.

Her voice split into three pitches, “Free you?” Weren’t they all dead?

“Please. Free us.”

“Why should I?”

“To save the Atheneum from Inanis.”