Stiff fingers rest against the cool surface beneath them.

  This doesn’t feel real. How could this be real? The quiet, the impossible stillness, the lifelessness…

  The shock settles in as the other consciousness reaches out, its thoughts are like glass rocks breaking against a leaden dome.

  Am I still breathing? I must be, I —

  Warmth brushes against her skin, her neck.

  Arric? No…he’s…bound, he’s…

  Confusion rules her mind as she struggles for consciousness.

  Eve, the other consciousness finally breaks through.

  “Rose,” she gasps through numb lips.

  Eve. Do you feel it? Do you feel the floor beneath us? The crystals the…lifelessness.

  “I do.” She can’t open her eyes. She can’t move, she can hardly exist, hardly wake.

  They say it’s wrong. It’s all wrong.

  Weightlessness takes her. The pressure of strong hands holds her firmly in their grasp. Her fingers leave the barren floor and she –

  Awakens again. To the cold once more.

  “Rose. Arric. Castigan.” She can’t even be certain that the words have left her mouth, but the growing flame…the heat she longs for, tells her that she’s with them.

  All wrong. Rose repeats. All wrong. All wrong. All wrong.

  Eve is drowning in her words. They come in a steady pulse and then…she feels it – no, hears it. The blade, the knife, buried deep within her chest. It sings. It screams. It roars.

  All Wrong.

  All Wrong.

  All Wrong.

  You picked her up on the wrong side.

  “What are you talking about?”

  I’m in here with you. Let’s not pretend I don’t know how you long for her head upon your chest like some damsel –

  “She’s not a damsel.” Arric looks at her frozen face. Serene. Beautiful and blinding. It’s pressed against the hilt of the blade, sagging towards his body as he moves. She’d have wanted it this way, though. She had boundaries. Strong ones. It hadn’t taken long to learn that.

  I could keep her warmer if her head were on our chest.

  He has a valid point…Arric could – no. No. She’d –

  Kill us? Laughable. Just put her down and pick her back up.

  “No. I –”

  She could die. You’re aware of this, yes? The cold isn’t doing her any good amidst the bloodloss.

  He’s right. Arric places her on the ground gently and as he does a sigh escapes her lips.

  “All…wrong.”

  “I told you she wouldn’t want me to carry her that way,” he says.

  Arric waits for the response, but Castigan is silent now. He picks her up as he had before, her head resting against the hilt of the blade, and continues moving. It’s not long before he spots the oily crack in the seal between worlds. The slick surface of the universe, the spirit-rift that Eve tore into the space between realities. It’s only now that he realizes he has no idea where it will take them. Four years…she’d shown him much…but not all. This was sacred to her. The ritual, where she performed it – always sensory blocked.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  She’s still alive, right? Wherever this goes, I say we set her down, walk away, and find a way to get us separated. After that, I go home and you can go your own way.

  Of course he’d say that.

  He steps through the crack in the universe and –

  The noise is unbearable. His ears are assaulted by a cacophony of sounds from all directions as he raises his shoulders in a feeble attempt to block the noise. A bed. Books. Pants. Bras. Underwear. Where is the noise coming from, I can’t –

  “Eve!” a fist pounds into the door, “Eve I know you’re in there, I heard you moving!”

  The noise. The noise. The bed, I’ll set her on the bed and then –

  “Eve! Turn that fucking noise down! I’m trying to get some sleep!” The pounding on the door continues.

  He sets her down quickly, as he continues to scan for the noise. The door falls silent, or maybe the noise has just overcome it, he has to –

  The voice shouts, “Valerian. Open the door, please. I don’t care how.”

  The door shoots from its frame, catching Arric in the arm as it falls to the ground. A young woman strides into the room as the stinging smoke dissipates.

  “Eve, damnit, turn – oh…” her eyes survey the room, survey Arric. Her eyes fall on Eve, then the blade.

  “Shit.”

  Arric swings.

  What the fuck did you do?

  I don't know, I panicked!

  Clearly. Two women, both unconscious, both voluptuous. One dying. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to set us up.

  Could you stop looking at their breasts for just a second and help me figure out what to do?

  Arric’s skin crawls under Castigan’s needling.

  You and your ever-present morals. It's disgusting. I never said it was their breasts I was looking at so don't put that one on me.

  Arric looks at his fist. The bruise on his knuckles is already forming. Was that “ever-present morals”? He doesn’t think so.

  Castigan. She's going to die. Look, she's bleeding out on her own bed. Now we've got a second unconscious girl. Either we fix this or we're fucked. We'll be waving corporeality goodbye once someone calls the authorities.

  Arric feels Castigan’s presence retreat for a moment. The sensation, or lack thereof, is sharp. A spike through the ribs. An emptiness he didn't know could exist.

  You're right.

  The spike slides out from Arric's ribs as Castigan returns.

  Turn off that fucking music. It's making our head hurt.

  How do I –

  See that box over there?

  Arric's eyes fall upon a windowed box. Inside it are fans and glowing lights.

  Destroy it.

  Arric places his hand on the box.

  You just want to melt it, don't you?

  I can think of no better end.

  The bitter sweet smell of melting plastic and metal stings Arric's nose as his fingertips burn. In all honesty, he’s happy to let Castigan melt it. He could use a bit of goodwill.

  Otherwise this is going to be a long existence.

  His eyes can focus properly now, with the incessant thumping gone.

  Go on, fix our girl up now.

  Arric drops to the side of the bed, putting his head near the blade. He hears a faint heartbeat. She’s still alive, but what can he do about the blade? He doesn’t know its nature, and even if he did, he doesn’t have the right tools to remove it.

  The girl on the floor groans.

  You don't mean to tell me you manifested powers within Eve but can't figure out how to use them now, do you?

  Arric's raises a shaking hand to his face.

  No, I –

  Forget about the blade. What she needs is blood. Isn't that your specialty?

  Where am I supposed to get that?

  Well your ‘quick thinking’ seems to have bagged us a donor already.

  Arric's eyes fall to the woman on the floor. She's stirred a few times but failed to awaken.

  No. I won't do that.

  Oh, it's just a pint, she won't miss it.

  Arric freezes, considering. If he calls upon his powers, if he can figure out how…he can easily shunt blood from her to Eve…but –

  Those ever-present fucking morals.

  He almost has to agree with Castigan.

  She's dying. Like you said.

  Arric hovers over the woman on the floor, hands poised as if ready to perform surgery.

  There's no other option?

  No other option, Castigan confirms.

  Arric reaches a hand down, ready to siphon the blood when – it hits him.

  My blood. Our blood.

  Arric places a hand over the blade in Eve's heart, reaching deep within himself, calling upon the light that Castigan had shown him before. A droplet of blood forms in his palm. It hovers in the air as it grows, then begins to move. Weblike spindles descend into the wound. Eve's breathing hitches, as a Grimace appearing on her formerly slackened face.

  Keep it up. Castigan said, just don't kill us.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Says a bleary voice.

  Shit. The girl.

  “Don't distract him!” Castigan manages to shout from Arric's lips, “He's saving her!”