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The shard burns through my jeans pocket like a live coal.
I'm half-dragging Kieran down the stairwell when the lights die. Not flicker. Die. Every bulb in the building cuts out at once, and the emergency exit signs go dark two seconds later. The kind of darkness that makes you forget which way is up.
"Keep moving." Kieran's voice comes from somewhere near my shoulder. His weight shifts against me, and I nearly lose my grip on his arm.
"I can't see anything."
"That's the point."
I don't know what that means, and I don't ask. My free hand finds the railing, and I count steps in my head. Twelve to the landing. Turn. Twelve more. My apartment's on the fourth floor, which means forty-eight steps total if I don't trip over this bleeding stranger and break both our necks.
Somewhere above us, a door slams open. Footsteps echo in the stairwell, too fast and too many.
"They're here," Kieran says. Not scared. Just stating a fact.
"Who's here?"
"Keep moving."
He's heavier now, leaning more of his weight on me with every step. The wet patch on his side is spreading. I can feel it soaking through his shirt into my palm. We hit the third-floor landing, and I hear another sound. Not footsteps. Something else.
A click. Low and metallic. Like a lock turning.
Then another. And another. Up and down the building, all around us, I hear doors unlocking. Not opening. Just the locks turning over, one after another, like dominoes falling in the dark.
"What the hell is that?"
Kieran doesn't answer. His breathing's gone shallow, and his grip on my shoulder tightens. We're on the second-floor landing when I hear the first door creak open. Somewhere above us. Third floor, maybe fourth. I don't stop to check.
The ground-floor door is right there. I can see the outline of it now, faint gray against black. My eyes are adjusting, or maybe there's light coming from somewhere outside. I reach for the handle.
"Wait." Kieran's hand closes over mine. His skin is cold. Too cold.
"We need to get out."
"Not that way."
"There is no other way."
He's quiet for a second. Then he says, "There's always another way."
Before I can argue, I hear it. A voice. Thin and distant, coming from behind one of the doors on the ground floor. A woman's voice.
"Mara?"
My blood goes ice-cold. I know that voice. I know it the way you know your own heartbeat, the way you know the sound of your mother's footsteps in the hall at night. Except it's impossible. It's been three years. Three years since I heard that voice, since I stood in a police station and identified a body that didn't look like my sister anymore.
"Mara, are you there?"
The voice is coming from the door at the end of the hall. The storage closet. It's been locked since I moved in. The landlord said he lost the key.
It's not locked now. I can see the gap between the door and the frame. Just an inch. Just enough.
"Elise?" The word comes out before I can stop it.
Kieran's grip tightens on my hand. "Don't."
"That's my sister."
"That's not your sister."
"You don't know that."
"I know that door's been sealed for five years. I know the Registry doesn't unseal doors unless something's very wrong or very useful. And I know your sister's been dead for three."
I try to pull away, but he holds on. His other hand moves to my wrist, and I feel something warm press against my skin. The shard. He's holding it between us now, and it's glowing. Faint red, like embers.
"Mara, please." Elise's voice is closer now. Right on the other side of the door. "I've been waiting for you. I've been here the whole time."
My throat closes up. I want to believe it. I want to open that door so badly my hands are shaking.
Kieran leans close, and his voice drops to a whisper. "If you open that door, we both die. And whatever's behind it gets out."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've opened doors like that before. That's why they're hunting me."
I look at him. His face is barely visible in the red glow of the shard, all sharp angles and shadows. His eyes are dark, and there's blood on his jaw. He looks like someone who's been running for a long time.
He looks like someone who's telling the truth.
"Mara?" Elise's voice is different now. Flatter. Like she's reading from a script. "Mara, open the door."
I take a step back. Then another. Kieran moves with me, still holding the shard between us.
The door at the end of the hall swings open. Not all the way. Just enough for me to see the darkness inside. It's not empty darkness. It's full. Thick. Like something's pressed up against the other side, waiting.
"Wrong choice, Littlebird."
That's not Elise's voice anymore.
I turn and run. Kieran's right behind me, or maybe I'm dragging him again, I don't know. We hit the ground-floor exit, and I slam through it into the street.
The power's out across the whole block. Maybe the whole city. I can't see streetlights anywhere, just the faint glow of car headlights a few streets over and the distant flicker of something burning.
And I can see the doors. Every building on the block, every shop and apartment and basement entrance. They're all open. Not wide. Just cracked. Just enough.
"Oh my God."
"We need to move." Kieran's leaning against the wall now, one hand pressed to his side. The blood's still spreading. "They'll have the block locked down in two minutes."
"Who will?"
He doesn't answer. He's looking past me, up the street, and his expression shifts. Not scared. Resigned. Like he's been expecting this.
I follow his gaze. At first I don't see anything. Just darkness and open doors. Then the streetlight at the corner flickers on. Not electric. Too bright. Too white. And in that light, I see them.
People. Maybe a dozen. Maybe more. They're walking down the middle of the street in a loose formation, and they're all wearing the same thing. Long coats. Silver buttons. Something that glints at their belts. Not guns. Too big. Too ornate.
They move like soldiers. Like they've done this a hundred times before.
One of them stops at the corner and looks our way. I can't see his face. The light's too bright behind him. But I see him raise one hand, and I see the thing at his belt start to glow.
"Kieran?"
"Registry agents." His voice is flat. Tired. "They're here for the shard."
"What do we do?"
He pushes off the wall and grabs my hand. The shard flares between our palms, hot enough to hurt. "We run."
The agents start moving toward us. Not running. They don't need to run. They know we can't get far.
Kieran pulls me into the alley beside my building. It's narrow and dark, and I can hear water dripping somewhere. My shoes splash through something I don't want to think about. Behind us, I hear the agents' footsteps. Steady. Unhurried.
We're halfway down the alley when I hear it. A low hum, rising in pitch. The glow from the agents' belts spills into the alley behind us, white and cold.
Kieran stops. Not because he wants to. Because he has to. His legs give out, and he goes down hard, taking me with him. I land on my knees in the wet, and the shard rolls out of my hand and skitters across the pavement.
The glow behind us gets brighter.
"Kieran, get up."
He doesn't move. His eyes are half-closed, and his breathing's wrong. Too slow. Too shallow.
"Kieran."
I grab his face, and his skin is ice-cold. Colder than before. Colder than any living person should be. His eyes focus on me for a second, and he says something I can't hear. His lips move, but there's no sound.
The shard is two feet away, glowing brighter now. Red light spills across the wet pavement, mixing with the white light behind us.
I have three seconds to decide. Pick up the shard and leave Kieran. Or stay and let the agents take us both.
I reach for the shard. My fingers close around it, and the heat slams into me like a fist. Not burning. Worse. It feels like my veins are filling with boiling metal, like every nerve in my body is lighting up at once.
And I hear a voice. Not Elise's. Not Kieran's. Someone else. A man's voice, low and smooth.
"Hello, Mara Venn. Your sister says you're ready."
The agents are right behind us now. I can hear their footsteps, can feel the cold light on my back. One of them speaks. A woman's voice. Calm. Professional.
"Ms. Venn. Put down the shard and step away from the fugitive. You're not in trouble. Not yet."
I look at Kieran. He's watching me. His eyes are open now, dark and steady. Waiting to see what I'll do.
I look at the shard in my hand. It's not glowing anymore. It's just black. Just a piece of rock or metal or something I don't understand.
I look at the agents. There are three of them at the mouth of the alley now. Two men and a woman. Silver coats. Blank faces. They're not here to help.
I make my choice. I close my fist around the shard and pull Kieran to his feet. He's deadweight, but I manage to get him upright. His arm goes over my shoulder, and I can feel his blood soaking through my shirt.
The woman agent takes a step forward. "Ms. Venn. Final warning."
I look her in the eye. "Go to hell."
Then I run. Straight at them. It's a stupid move, and I know it, but it's the only move I've got. The agents aren't expecting it. They step aside, and I'm through the gap before they can close it.
Behind me, I hear the woman shout something. A command. The white glow flares, bright enough to cast shadows on the street ahead.
I don't look back. I just run. Kieran's weight drags at me, and my legs are burning, and I don't know where I'm going. But I'm not stopping. Not now. Not when I've just heard my sister's voice for the first time in three years. Not when I'm holding a piece of something that might explain how she died.
The street ahead is dark. The doors are all open. And somewhere in the city, something is waking up.