I shake my head. “Not . . . for me.”

A thunderous swoop of wings precedes a body falling through the hole in the ceiling and landing in the pool with a splash. Luc wears a black tunic that looks like it was made of woven shadow. He sees me and crosses the pool in three strokes. Climbing up the edge of the pool seems to take extra effort. His arm slips once, twice. Crixus comes to the edge and helps Luc out of the water.

“Cain’s burning on the other side,” he informs Luc.

“Help me,” I croak. “I’ll join you, Luc. I’ll save your father. Just . . . save me.”

Luc sits on the edge of the pool, breathing hard from the exertion of climbing out of the water. But a look passes between us. He knows I’m not making an empty promise—if he saves me, I will be his to command.

“Crixus, go to the lararium. There’s a sealed box on the center pillar. Bring it back to me.”

“It’s too far—”

“Go!”

Crixus bolts from the room. I fall to my knees, sucking in a breath but finding my lungs won’t cooperate. Roaring fills my ears. Wet fills my lungs.

“Hold on, Cain,” Luc says quietly.

To what? Life? What little hope I have in Luc being able to save me dissipates.

“I . . .”

“Hold on,” Luc repeats. “No matter what, don’t lose consciousness. If you do . . . all is lost.” I hear desperation in his voice. But it’s not for me, it’s for Galilei. For the cure. I’m our world’s only hope.

I try to hold on. I really do. My vision flashes, and my arms buckle, drawing another hacking cough from my chest.

“Crixus!” Luc bellows toward the doorway.

My arms give out, and I collapse fully to the cool ground. Whatever Luc sent Crixus after, he’s not going to get back in time.

“Just fight it, Cain,” Luc begs, looking more like a young helpless boy than ever before.

“I . . .” My vision turns black. “I . . . can’t.”

The world spins out of reach and ends.

There’s a girl asleep in my tiny house. I barely make her out through the dark shadows of a sun that set hours ago.

The girl is on my couch with a fire extinguisher in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. An oversize hoodie engulfs her head, cinched tight around her face. What would be the exposed part of her face is tucked under her arm and facing the cushioned back of the sofa.

I woke minutes ago, face up on the kitchen floor—almost in the same place I’d fallen trying to turn off the burner. The windows are open, and it’s raining outside. My breaths come in raspy wheezes, and my throat feels filled with cotton. My brain wants to assemble the puzzle pieces of what happened, but I’m forced to take a moment and focus on breathing.

I woke up . . . that’s a positive sign. But how? Luc’s secret box?

A note rests on my table in front of the girl, soaked through with the foamy mess of what must have been the fire extinguisher’s contents.

Sorry about your little house. It was either this or let you burn to death. Also, I had to restart your heart so if you’re sore, I’m sorry about that too. It took only a few chest compressions, so I didn’t have to kiss you or anything. Please don’t be a creeper and kill me while I’m asleep. You don’t have to let me stay here, but if you dump my body, please do so in a safe location.

Stranna

This girl saved me. She fought a fire and restarted my heart. Who is she? And why save a stranger?

I briefly pat her hoodie pocket for her Infection Time Card, careful not to move any other part of her. It seems invasive. I don’t want her to wake and think I’ve done anything to her. But her pockets seem empty. No card to show how many Sleeps she has left.

I take in her resting form. What was she doing here in an abandoned neighborhood? She just happened to see my burning tiny house and decided to save me?

I don’t buy it. Then again, she’s left herself completely at my disposal.

Maybe she’s like me and there’s a draw in her to stay near the university: clinging to the hope of learning again someday. My fellow Draftsman students and I all had such big dreams when we entered college. Is that how every college student is? We think we’re going to change the world until we actually start living in it and realize that if it had been possible to change the world, someone would have done it a long time ago.

Forget that—I can’t even change myself, can’t even control myself in a dreamscape.

I spot a backpack on the couch next to Stranna. The top zipper is open, and for some reason I know it’ll hold the answer. It’s like my subconscious has suspicions that my active mind refuses to acknowledge.

I move aside rolled articles of clothing and a few water bottles, crinkling some snack bags. Even though I’m famished, I don’t pull them out. I don’t want to see what food she has and tempt myself. But then I encounter a plastic grocery bag filled with a variety of soft things and clinking glass bottles. I open the mouth and peer inside.

My cure serum.

My heart drops in my chest, and I recoil as though scalded. She’s one of my customers. That’s why she was in the neighborhood. She was picking up her cure from the designated mailbox.

This girl can’t afford more than a bag of chips and drained her bank account to buy my failed cure. And here she is, trapped in the Nightmare right in front of my eyes. On my couch. Experiencing the failed cure for herself. Writing me a note not to kill her or dump her body in a river.

Is that why she saved me? Because she recognized me as the cure maker? Does she think she’ll get a free cure or that I’ll be able to fix the problems?

She didn’t say anything in her note about who I am. But if she literally restarted my heart, how could she not recognize me?

I flop onto the other side of the couch. “What a day.” My voice doesn’t sound like it belongs to me. “Murder someone at night, burn to death in the morning, rescued in the evening.”

I shouldn’t make light of it, but I have to, otherwise I’ll go insane. Well, more insane than I already am. The two lives are starting to blur together. When in Tenebra I hardly remember life in the Real World. And here in the Real World I recall everything from the Nightmare with creepy clarity. They’re at war with each other. I need to stop trying to separate the two. They are both my life, and if I don’t let them work together, I’ll end up wasting both.

I’ve been given a second chance in both worlds.

Luc wants me to save his father. Since my cure failed, it looks like I’ll need a LifeSuPod after all. And with this girl, Stranna, having rescued me while I ruined her life . . . I feel obligated to take her body with me and care for it the best I can. Maybe I can bargain for a second LifeSuPod.

Better than that, I can save Luc’s father, get the cure, and free humanity—Stranna included. Her note implies she doesn’t have a place to go. For now, The Fire Swamp is her new home as far as I’m concerned.

After killing the Spore woman, I have no reason not to work for Luc. He is the most powerful man in Tenebra with a tempting offer and the only key to salvation I can see. And I seem to be the only one who can help him. If I succeed in saving Galilei, we can distribute the cure together.

If I fail and I’m trapped in Tenebra forever, maybe I can set up a new life for myself. The citizens of Tenebra idolize me. I’m a celebrity in that world. If I can get myself to swallow my guilt and self-disgust, maybe I can have a decent life.

Besides, the Spores killed Nole. If I join forces with Luc and his knowledge maybe we can find more answers about the Spores and, subsequently, how they control the Nightmare. We could end them. Free the kids.

I run a hand down my face. My hand comes away covered in thick soot. I wipe it off on my pants, then push myself off the couch. I need to clean up and make myself busy to get some relief from my thoughts.

I take in the mess of The Fire Swamp. The stove looks like someone hurled ABE powder all over it and the meager kitchen. Black potatoes sit in a half-melted pot. The ceiling above the stove is blackened. Part of the wall is charred rafters, stripped of insulation and paneling. Ash rests over everything else.