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"You didn't tell him your name."
Kael's voice cut through the stunned silence in the med bay. Cold. Flat. The kind of tone that came right before someone pulled a trigger.
Nora looked up from the lieutenant's chest. The guy was breathing steady now, color coming back to his face. She'd just saved his life. Again. And now Kael was staring at her like she'd grown a second head.
"What?"
"Lieutenant Dane." Kael stepped closer. The other soldiers in the room shifted, hands drifting toward weapons. "He said your name. You never introduced yourself."
Oh hell.
Nora's mind raced. She'd been so focused on cutting the infection out, on stopping the magic from eating through Dane's lungs, that she hadn't noticed. Hadn't thought about it. But Kael was right. She'd kept her mouth shut the whole time, working fast, and Dane had still known.
"I—" She started to stand. Kael's hand shot out, palm flat against her shoulder, shoving her back down to her knees.
"Stay."
Not a request.
Her pulse spiked. The medic bag was two feet to her left. Useless. She had a scalpel in her belt pocket, still sticky with Dane's blood, but Kael had four inches and sixty pounds on her, plus the kind of muscle that came from swinging a sword for a living. And six soldiers were watching, every one of them loyal to him.
"You're spiraling," Mira said from the doorway. She walked in like she owned the place, arms crossed, that same smirk pulling at her mouth. "He's paranoid, not stupid. Let her talk."
Kael didn't move. His hand stayed on Nora's shoulder, pressing down just hard enough to remind her he could pin her to the floor if he wanted.
"Talk," he said.
Nora met his eyes. Gray, sharp, and completely done with her. No trust left. She'd used it all up pulling Dane back from the edge.
"I don't know how he knew," she said. Honest. Because lying right now would get her locked in a cell, or worse. "Maybe I said it earlier. Maybe someone else did. I've been here less than a day, and I've died twice already. I'm not keeping track of every word."
"You've what?"
Mira's voice cracked across the room like a whip. She straightened, eyes narrowing.
Damn it. Nora bit down on the inside of her cheek. She'd said too much. The reset was her only advantage, and she'd just blown it because her brain was fried and Kael's hand on her shoulder was making it hard to think straight.
"Nothing," Nora said quickly. "Forget it."
"You said you died." Mira took a step forward. "Twice."
Kael's fingers tightened. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make Nora's breath hitch.
"Explain," he said.
"I can't."
"Wrong answer."
He hauled her up by the shoulder, fast and rough, and shoved her toward the door. Nora stumbled, caught herself against the doorframe, and Kael was right behind her, one hand wrapped around her upper arm, steering her into the corridor.
"Where are we going?" she snapped.
"Somewhere you can't run."
He dragged her through two hallways, past soldiers who stepped aside without a word, and into a narrow stairwell that spiraled down into the guts of the Keep. The air got colder. Damper. The stone walls were slick with condensation, and the only light came from a few guttering torches wedged into brackets.
At the bottom, Kael pushed open a heavy iron door and shoved her through.
Nora hit the ground hard, palms scraping against rough stone. She rolled, came up in a crouch, and took in the room.
Small. Maybe ten feet across. One torch. No windows. And a gate in the center of the floor.
Not a gate. A shaft. Open, black, and deep enough that she couldn't see the bottom.
"What the hell is this?" she said.
Kael stepped inside and slammed the door shut. The lock clicked. He didn't answer. Just walked to the edge of the shaft and looked down.
"This is where it started," he said quietly. "The first rift. The first time the Blight came through."
Nora stayed low, pulse hammering. The shaft gave off a faint hum, like a power line about to blow. The air around it shimmered, heat or magic or both.
"And you brought me here because?"
"Because if you're a spy, you'll know what this is." Kael turned to face her. His expression was unreadable. "And if you're something else, you'll prove it."
"I'm not a spy."
"Then what are you?"
She didn't have an answer. Not one that made sense. Not one he'd believe.
Kael watched her for a long moment, then pulled something from his belt. A knife. Short, plain, the kind of blade you used for field work, not killing. He flipped it in his hand, caught it, and held it out.
"Cut yourself," he said.
"Excuse me?"
"Your arm. Deep enough to bleed. Do it."
Nora stared at him. "You're insane."
"You said you died twice. Prove it. If you reset, you'll heal. If you don't, we'll know you lied."
Her stomach dropped. He wasn't bluffing. He wanted her to hurt herself, right here, right now, to prove something she couldn't even explain.
"And if I don't?"
"Then I throw you in the shaft and let the rift decide."
She looked past him at the black pit in the floor. The hum was louder now, vibrating in her chest. Her hands were shaking.
"You won't," she said.
"Try me."
He meant it. She could see it in the set of his jaw, the flatness in his eyes. He'd toss her in without a second thought if he decided she was a threat.
Nora stood slowly. Kael didn't move, but his weight shifted, ready.
"I didn't lie," she said. "I did die. Twice. And I woke up every time at the same moment, right when I got pulled through the rune circle. I don't know how. I don't know why. But it's real."
"Prove it."
"I can't prove something that hasn't happened yet."
"Then we're done here."
Kael stepped toward her. Nora backed up, hit the wall, and he kept coming, close enough now that she could feel the heat coming off him, see the thin scar cutting through his left eyebrow.
"Last chance," he said.
She didn't think. Just moved.
Nora ducked under his arm and bolted for the shaft.
Kael swore, lunged, and his hand closed around her wrist, yanking her back. But her momentum was already committed, and the edge of the shaft was right there, crumbling under her boots.
She heard him shout her name.
Then the ground gave way, and they both went over.
Falling.
The shaft swallowed them whole, black and cold and roaring. Nora's stomach lurched. Wind screamed past her ears. She couldn't see Kael, couldn't see anything, but his hand was still locked around her wrist, dragging her down with him.
She twisted, reaching with her free hand, and caught his forearm. Held on.
The air turned hot. Then cold. Then something else, something that tasted like metal and lightning.
And then the burning started.
Her wrist exploded with pain, white-hot and searing, like someone had pressed a brand straight into her skin. She screamed, tried to pull away, but Kael's grip didn't loosen. His face was twisted, jaw clenched, and she saw the same burn spreading across his wrist, glowing red and gold and carving itself into a pattern she didn't recognize.
A mark.
The same mark.
On both of them.
The shaft flared bright, blinding, and Nora's vision whited out.
She didn't let go.