Webb's a dead guy with no memory of his life, and that's how he likes it. He'd sworn he'd protect After, the city of the dead, from monsters, but the monsters have all been killed off. Now he has only one thing left to do: go through the Gate and fi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"This is a stupid idea!" Jake yelled after me.
Deep down, I knew I was being irrational, but underneath my pallid skin that was still stained black, some boiling, feverish heat burned and fueled my rage. My fingers curled as I ran as if they were about to turn to claws. The iron-tinged taste of hate scalded my throat. "He took my sword, Jake!"
Something dripped down my brow, and I couldn't tell if it was sweat or blood. I quickened my pace, charging through the desert as Nugget led the way with her nose to the sand.
I sucked in air through my teeth. Up ahead, a gorge gouged through the earth, dividing the desert into two halves. Standing before that valley wavered a familiar masked silhouette. I turned back to the panting kid who had just caught up to me. I held out an open palm to him. "I need to borrow your knife, Jake."
"For what?"
"For getting my sword back!"
Jake held his switchblade close to himself, looking hesitant.
"I'll give it back," I said, forcing myself to relax. "I promise." I beckoned with my empty hand.
Jake met my eyes for a moment and his lip trembled, but without a word, he surrendered his blade to me. The kid groaned when I ran on ahead.
I had the thief cornered.
"Hey, asshole!" I shouted to the man at the edge of the crevice.
Mask Guy stopped in his tracks. He turned back slightly to peer at me over a shoulder.
Oh good. He knew his name.
Just behind his shoulder gleamed the hilt of the sword that I'd carried since I first joined this realm, the sword forged by Orville. My fever worsened.
I pointed a bloody finger at my sword. "That doesn't belong to you."
Criley said nothing while an updraft from the gorge whipped at his drenched coat. The lenses of his mask flickered in the luxlight when he moved his hand to his belt, grasping the knife sheathed there.
I smirked at the threat. "Okay then." I flicked open Jake's knife.
Criley pulled his weapon from its sheathe with a skilled flick of his thumb. He twirled it in his fingers, each of the bowie knife's menacing red teeth catching the light. My sword remained untouched in a scabbard behind him.
"Not too skilled with swords, huh?" I egged. I squared up in front of him. Nugget growled at the thief right beside me. "Fine."
No sooner had the word left my word, Criley lunged, slicing at me. I stumbled back a few paces and had to regain my balance before retaliating. He ducked out of the way at the last second, and I ended up cutting only his coat.
There was no time to mull over my disappointment. I had to dodge another blow of his. Then another. And another.
