Page 68 of The Blood Rites

“I can’t—” she starts, but her knees buckle, and she goes down once again. “Please. I need a minute.”

Callen doesn’t hesitate. He scoops her up and props her upright, as though casually righting a fallen doll on a shelf.

“Keep moving,” he says, his voice flat. “It was your idea to find cover.”

His gaze drifts to me, his mouth tightening into a thin line.

“You don’t have to be so mean,” Marissa says, adjusting her sleeves and pushing the hair from her face.

The ghostly form of an Overseer suddenly appears, phasing through the rock face. It glances in our direction but quickly looks away, seemingly uninterested in us.

“Until the count is true,” it murmurs before slipping away, its trailing blue dust the only evidence that it was even here.

I keep my eyes on the Mother Shard as we walk and climb, using her as a reference point, but she doesn't seem to get any closer no matter how far we go. I tell myself I’m just exhausted. The golden oval in her centre follows us, shifting as we move.

Marissa’s teeth chatter despite the heat. “I miss the Embrace,” she whimpers.

I keep silent. My mouth is so dry my tongue is stuck to my teeth, and when I swallow it makes a rancid sucking noise. I remember the Mother Shard’s voice from the dream.

You are holy fire.

I almost laugh.

“Look,” Marissa says, pointing with a trembling finger. “Another Mana Echo.”

I follow her gaze. A woman stands above on the ledge, her eyes wide with fear. An unseen force slams her into the stone. Her limbs flail. Her bones break.

Then her limp body slides away, and the image begins again.

“What’s happening to her?” Marissa asks softly, confusion replacing her initial horror.

“I’m not sure,” I say. “Air Mana, maybe?”

“It does sort of look like that,” Callen says.

“This place is going to kill us,” Marissa whispers to no one in particular.

“I’m going to keep you safe,” I say. “I promise.”

Callen doesn't say anything else, just sets his jaw and starts walking again.

We follow him through the rocks, and for a long time no one speaks. The sun never seems to move, hanging overhead like a punishment. Eventually, Marissa lets out a deep, weary sigh.

“If we can find other Offerings, maybe we can work together?” she suggests.

Callen barks a bitter laugh. “Why would we do that? The whole point is for everyone to kill each other. There is no ‘together’ here.”

Marissa visibly shrinks, but I give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“He’s wrong,” I say. “Some of the other Offerings were talking about alliances.”

Callen stops and turns on me. “You really believe that?”

I look at him. His eyes are dark and hollow. “Yes,” I say. “If we can find—”

He cuts me off. “Then you’re a fool.”

He turns and marches off.