Chapter 8 · The Vault Door

"Get your hand on the seal. Now!"

Dax slams into my back. Chest to spine. One hand between my shoulder blades, shoving me face-first into the vault door.

The disc is massive. Rusted iron. Cold enough to burn. And behind us the tunnel's screaming — grey skin, clicking teeth, a whole wall of dead things sprinting for us.

"I can't! It's locked!" I slap my palm against the iron. It doesn't budge. "It's not moving!"

"It's not locked for you!" he shouts in my ear. "Use the heart, Mara! Now!"

I fumble for the silver heart in my jacket. My fingers brush it and — god.

It doesn't beat. It surges.

Hot wire shoots up my arm. Like a needle sewing straight through my veins. My knees buckle. My teeth buzz.

"Ah!" I gasp. "It — it's burning!"

"Hold it! Hold it against the seal!"

I slam my hand — heart and all — onto the iron. The metal hums. Low and deep.

*Clang.*

A hairline crack splits the center of the disc. Gold light bleeds out.

"Move!" Dax grabs my shoulder. His grip bruises.