Chapter 22 · The Hollow Cure - Chapter 22: Echoes of the Dead

"Stop fighting it, Lyra. You're going to rip your own soul out of your throat if you don't breathe," Kael’s voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well.

Lyra didn't breathe. She couldn't. She was floating in a gray, suffocating void where the only thing that existed was the screaming. It wasn't a sound—it was a vibration, a jagged frequency that tore through her marrow. Around her, shards of mirrored glass drifted in the air, each one reflecting a different version of her own face. Some were weeping. Some were laughing. All of them were crystallizing.

"Get me out!" she shrieked, but her voice didn't make a sound.

Suddenly, a hand slammed into her field of vision. Kael. He looked different here—raw, desperate, his eyes burning with a frantic kind of genius that terrified her. He lunged forward, his fingers locking around her wrist with a grip that bordered on painful. The heat of his palm was the only real thing in this ghost-world.

"Look at me!" he roared. "Don't you dare let go. If you slip now, you're just another echo in this hole.