Chapter 29 · The First Death

"You're not going in there."

Mina's hand locked around my wrist before my fingers touched the sealed door. Her grip was precise, hard enough to stop me without crushing bone.

"Let go."

"No."

"That wasn't a request."

"Good. Then you heard me."

The copper lines under my skin burned. Their heat climbed my arm and hooked toward the tower's core, dragging me toward the black door.

I twisted against her grip. She held on.

"You don't get to decide where I go."

"Someone has to." She pulled me back. "That door hasn't opened in a hundred years."

"And you've got a dramatic story ready, right?"

"The last person who went through came back wrong. He spoke languages nobody recognized. Three days later, he opened his wrists in the market square."

"That's your reason? A dead man's bad afternoon?"

"I read the autopsy report."

That shut me up for half a second.

The door wasn't copper or steel. Its surface shifted like black oil, veins of pale light pulsing beneath it. The lines in my head answered with a low hum.

"Something in there is calling me," I said.

"I know."

"Then let me answer."

"No.