take a step, but the graininess turned into blackness. I fell. Metal rods hit my abdomen, and my name was yelled, or maybe whispered, the rushing in my ears too strong, a current that made words bob.
When the world materialized again, I was leaning against Remo, wheezing lungfuls of scorching air. “I’m okay.” I tried to push away from him.
“No you’re not.” He loosed the noose of his arm just enough to bring up his hands that were coated with so much blood I almost passed out a second time. His gaze dropped to my waist, to the protruding piece of metal.
“Pull it out.”
“We don’t know how deep it went.”
“Just pull it out.” It felt like a legion of ants were walking over every inch of my skin. “Please?” I murmured, resting my forehead against the knob of his shoulder.
“Amara . . .”
“If I bleed out, meet me at the waterfall.”
His body turned to steel.
“Plea—”
I never got the last syllable out. A flash of heat and pain sliced into my waist, dimming the tropical prison cell all over, except this time, it stayed dark a long long time. When I finally reeled my lids up, I was expecting a mirrored portal would be floating over me.
Instead, I got shards of white sky peeking from behind swaying turquoise fronds, the scent of panem drifting into my nose, and a strong heartbeat pounding against my ear. I tipped my face as far as my neck would allow and found myself staring at the auburn stubble on the underside of Remo’s jaw. I hadn’t died, but the wet pain thrashing at my waist almost made me wish I had.
A fresh wave of fire slammed into me, and cold sweat gathered on my brow. In the branches above Remo’s head, a set of eyes glittered. Human eyes set into a crouched human form.
I tried to utter Remo’s name and warn him. I tried to lift my hand and point. I failed at both.
I blinked, and the world became whitewashed. When my gaze cleared, there was no one in the tree.
Then there was no tree.
No sky.
No Remo.
Nothing, but an inky, quiet void.
28
The Girl
Water splashed against my dry lips, curved down my cheeks, dribbled into my hair. I sputtered and coughed, my throat so parched the air traveling down into my lungs felt like a ball of fire. More water. I snapped my lips shut, but again they parted around a rattling cough.
“Amara?”
I twisted onto my side, but choked as my nose and mouth hit water.
“Easy there.” Hands cupped my head and eased it up, helping the water I’d inhaled come back out.
I realized I was still in Hell because never had I choked on water. In Neverra and on Earth, the inside of my mouth and my scaly skin both acted like gills, separating the oxygen from the carbon dioxide before siphoning it inside my body.
“I wish I were dead,” I whispered between coughing fits. Coughing fits that made my body feel as though it had been cleaved in half.
“Don’t say that.”
“But it’s true.” The corners of my eyes released a few tears that bled right into my hairline. “I’m sorry,” I murmured, realizing how selfish I was being.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
After inhaling a long breath through my nose, I finally dared to open my eyes. Remo’s face was shadowed but pale, his eyes large and shiny. Water struck and gushed beside us. I turned my head, which he’d cocooned in his lap, and found he was sitting half-submerged in an iridescent pool.
“I was hoping the water would help heal you.” His voice was all at once tenuous and rough. “But I don’t know if it’s helping. Your wound hasn’t magically sealed up. Maybe it’s making it worse.”
I didn’t know if it had made it worse. I couldn’t feel an entire side of my body. Maybe I was cleaved in half . . .
“I didn’t want to rip up your jumpsuit, and I didn’t think you’d want me undressing you, but I think you need to take it off, so I can see the extent of the damage. Make sure no other piece of metal went through you.”
“The lengths you’ll go to catch another glimpse of my breasts . . .”
He shot me a gentle smile. “You think you can sit up?”
I tried but my upper body felt chained to an anvil. “I . . . can’t.” I allowed myself a full minute to sulk. “Just unzip my suit. I’m past the