If she were truly thankful, wouldn’t she answer my question? “You’re welcome.” She seems to be favoring one leg. A beating like that would take down anyone. Maybe if I show her I care, she’ll loosen up. “You okay?”

“I suppose we’ll see.” Her casualness shows that she’s hardly bothered by the fact that she’s facing the guy who killed her in front of a cheering audience.

“Why are you taking people’s children?”

She levels her eyes at me. “Seriously?”

“That’s why everyone attacked you,” I say, though now I’m less confident.

“They tried to kill me because I’m a Spore.” She huffs. “And you really are ignorant for how famous you’ve become.”

Facing her like a regular person makes it much harder to imagine she and her kind are mass killers and kidnappers, but I can’t let up. Not yet.

“How are you alive?”

“If you think I’m going to hand you answers that easily, think again.” She brushes off her tunic then starts to leave.

“Hey, I just saved your life!” I jog after her. The saber-toothed tiger waits by the fountain, licking its giant paw.

She rounds on me. “A little reminder. You murdered me. So excuse me for not thanking you for not doing it a second time.”

“You were coming right at me in the Arena. I killed you in self-defense!” Only as the words come out of my mouth do I realize how odd they are. I’m talking to a girl who died by my hand. Talking to her about her death—trying to find out about her resurrection.

“Don’t fool yourself. You killed me because you were a green noxior, drunk on anger. I wasn’t coming for you. I entered that Arena for my sister.”

The little girl with the braid. The girl her phoenix kidnapped is her sister? It had nothing to do with me or Nole.

“But you died.”

She looks hesitant, then winces at the memory.

“Yes. That hurt very much, you know.”

“Sorry.” I can’t let her go without getting answers. She’s done what Nole could not and acts as though it’s no big deal.

“I know who you are, Cain.”

I pull up short. Cain. Not Icarus. She used my real name. It sparks thoughts, visions of my other life but, as usual, they’re blurred and unfocused. I strain to recall them. I know bits and pieces—the big points. The cure. Nole.

Her eyes turn to storm clouds. “You’re the man peddling a fake cure to those who are dying. You’re handing them false hope and taking their money without a care in the world. I’m not about to tell you anything.”

Yes. Yes, that’s what I’m doing. I can remember my goal behind those things even though the specific memories of success or failure are muted.

“At least I’m trying to help people. You’re surviving this Nightmare and keeping the how to yourself. Your kind killed my brother because of the cure. Don’t act like you actually care about anyone in the Real World.”

She laughs. “The nightmist has truly turned your brain—or maybe this is simply what you’re like. I don’t even know who your brother is. We don’t kill. Not if we can help it.”

I roll my eyes. “Right. You’re all little saints. I saw what you did to Erik and James and the other people in the Tunnel cart—”

“That wasn’t—”

“And if you’re so against killing then why did you enter the Arena with daggers?”

“To save my sister, whom you were attacking.”

The nerve of this girl—but then I recall the fight. I’d used my kris dagger to threaten the girl with the braids so she’d stop resisting me. That was when the phoenix and this Spore girl showed up.

Was that really her whole reason for entering the Arena? It can’t be. These people are child traffickers. She could be telling me anything to get away with kidnapping that girl.

“Why was your sister in the Arena anyway?”

“Because she was of no use to your Emperor. He’s the one who kidnapped her.”

“What do you mean?” Then I remember my first night in Tenebra, when Luc rode his stingray and lassoed the braid girl right out from the midst of the Spores. “How was he to know she was your sister? He was trying to save her. He saves kids.” I’ve seen it. Tory. Eddie.

“No, he uses them while they can go in and out of the Nightmare. But once they age out and get trapped here in Tenebra, they are subject to the Tenebran law.”

“Which is?”

“Survive the Arena to get your citizenship. Surely you know at least that much. After all, I was your ticket to those clothes you’re wearing.” She walks off.

“Would you just stop?” I start after her, but then my feet quit working. They stick to the ground like I’ve stepped in wet cement. “What in the . . . ?” I yank enough to see roots going from the sole of my sandal into the dusty stone.

I try again to follow her, but the roots won’t let me. I can’t even take my sandals off. Luc didn’t say anything about the roots restricting me. I let out a frustrated yell and reach for her.

Her sword bursts from her side and presses against my forehead again. I stop straining. The girl eyes the roots, and then looks at her sword. She seems annoyed.

“Really?”

Is she talking to me or the sword? “Can you call off your pet crowbar please?”

“No can do.” She lets out a long sigh. “You’re at a crossroad, Cain. I don’t like you. And while I don’t really want to do this, it’s going to feel kind of good. For me, anyway.” She takes the hilt of the sword in her hand, touching it for the first time.

I lean back, but my roots keep me in place. “What are you . . .”

She advances, her eyes shuttering. Detaching. Not quite looking at me.

Dread fills me. “Wait.” I picture James. Erik. Nole.

She takes a deep breath, then rears back with the sword. I throw my arms up as a guard, but she’s faster.

She thrusts the blade straight through my skull.

My vision and brain explode in white pain. The world spins. I’m blind. I’m dead.

Wham.