Page 35 of Cursebreaker

Again. Again. Again.

“Aster, stop!”

My shoulders ache, my hands vibrate.

I turn to look for Will. Will. Where is he—where is—

“I’m—right here,” comes Will’s deep voice again, closer now.

He comes into focus a few feet away, pressing his hands to his thigh. The gash in his chest pours blood, the wound gaping.

I pant for breath as I scramble away from the Stalker’s corpse, crawling toward Will.

“Why aren’t you healing yourself?” My voice sounds too loud, the pressure in my head agonizing.

“I’m—trying—” he says through clenched teeth. He looks up at the sky, his eyes wild. “There—could be more. We need—to move.”

I don’t hesitate, grabbing him underneath his arms and hauling him toward the outcropping of rock. He groans, and I think I hear him sob, but I don’t stop until we’re shielded from sight, hidden behind a boulder. I prop him against a rock, and his head lolls, his eyes fluttering shut.

“I can fix this,” I say, kneeling beside him. I close my eyes, listening to the whispers that seem to come from his blood, trying to distinguish their voices, their melodies, to coax the fluid back into his veins, to give him time to heal.… But Will’s blood doesn’t sing. It doesn’t hum.

It chants.

The sound is ancient, and dark, and… cursed.

He seizes my wrist. “It’s all right,” he rasps. “I’m going to be all right.”

“No, you’re—you’re bleeding—”

Will’s other hand cups my jaw, smearing his blood across my face as his thumb brushes my skin. He gazes at me with heavy-lidded eyes, the ghost of a grin touching his crimson lips. “I love you.”

My head throbs, my heart pounding. “Please, just let me—”

“You have to go.” He coughs, and blood spatters his chin. “Before I turn. You have to go.”

No. No. This can’t be happening. “Will—”

His eyes seem to glaze with confusion, and suddenly he looks so scared—so young. “Stay with me?” he whimpers. “Until the end?”

Tears burn my cheeks. “This isn’t the end. Promise—promise me it’s not.”

The confusion in his gaze turns to understanding in an instant. “Of course,” he says softly, weakly. “I promise.” His hand drops from my face, and he places it over his chest, blood spilling through his fingers. “When we—have the cure,” he murmurs, a smile lighting his face, boyish and romantic and full of hope, “we’re going to—leave all of this behind. We’ll live on a ship. I’d—I’d like to see you on a ship. You—seem happy there.” Blood stains his teeth as his smile widens, revealing dimples. “We’ll be—free, Aster. There’s—there’s a whole world out there for us to explore, beyond—the Known World. It’ll be an adventure, won’t it?”

His voice breaks. My heart shatters.

A future together. Free.

“Yes,” I tell him, and I hope he knows I mean it. Yes, not just to an adventure but to a life with him.

A trill of laughter splits the air.

I peek out from behind the boulder as four Stalkers perch atop the rocks just beyond our hiding place.

Will grabs my wrist, pulling me toward him.

“Run,” he tells me, blood dripping from his chin. “You have to run.”

I shake my head, taking hold of my daggers once more. “I’m not leaving you.”