“Come on.” Lina tugs me to the door. She turns the knob and we enter a hallway. The lights are switched off, the space dim, but I can see multiple people sitting or lying throughout. Smoke wafts through the air, tickling my nose. I hold my breath as long as I can, preferring to leave sober. No one attacks us, at least.

I quicken my step, uneasy, and find the living room, the way out. There are more people here, some lucid, most snoring. Aunt Lina doesn’t head for the front door but picks up a paintbrush from the floor, throwing fuel on my unease. She moves to the wall to trace the tip of the brush along one of the math problems, which equals ten.

“Lina,” I say softly.

“You died.” Her voice is higher, making her sound as if she’s around five years old. Dang it! Not now! “I was sad.”

Determined, I walk over and clasp onto her wrist. “Lina,” I say as gently as I’m able. “We need to leave.”

“You died.” She faces me, but her eyes stare at nothing. “I was sad.”

“I’m alive. I’m here, and I want to leave this place with you.”

“You died,” she repeats, and I’m not sure she’s talking to me or to herself. “I killed you. I’m sorry.” Then she slams the tip of her paintbrush into my jugular.

Chapter twenty-four

“Just because you can’t see us, doesn’t mean we’re not there.”

—Troika

At first, I’m too shocked to react. And I think my adrenaline is too high, whatever drugs Aunt Lina used on me still numbing me. But the “this can’t be happening, I don’t feel a thing” sensation doesn’t last long.

My neck is suddenly on fire.

Pain shoots through me, buckling my knees. Loony Lina maneuvers me to the ground while I gasp for breath I can’t catch.

“You sang it. Don’t you remember? You sang it, and you saved them.”

My wild gaze circles the room. Help me!

She sings, “Ten’s tears fall, and I call. Nine hundred trees, but only one is for me. Eight times eight times eight they fly, whatever you do, don’t stay dry. Seven ladies dancing, ignore their sweet romancing. Six seconds to hide, up, up, and you’ll survive. Five times four times three, and that is where he’ll be. Two I’ll save, I’ll be brave, brave, brave. The one I adore, I’ll come back for.”

As she sings, she smooths the hair from my face, gentle, so gentle. Such a contrast to the horror she just visited upon me.

I don’t... I can’t... I can’t speak. Can’t breathe.

Still she sings. “Ten’s tears fall, and I call. Nine hundred trees, but only one is for me.”

Suddenly I’m falling...falling...landing with a thud on the forest floor. Air leaves my lungs in a white-hot burst, making me dizzy, but I scramble to my feet and, blinking rapidly, scan my newest surroundings.

Welcome back to the Realm of Many Ends.

The gnarled trees sigh happily. The toothy plants grin, as if eyeing me with mental forks and knives. The ember-bugs sting me, and I yelp. Today the sky isn’t quite so dark, but that isn’t exactly a good thing. There are thick yellow clouds in the sky, undulating violently.

I’m stuck this time, aren’t I? Twice before, my body has died, and my spirit has come to this realm, but both times, the boys were there to save me. Today, I’m on my own.

Now I’ll be forever separated from my mother...forever separated from my brother...forever separated from Killian and Archer. Tears of frustration spill down my cheeks. My hand trembles as I wipe the drops away and—

Ten’s tears fall, and I call.

The words hit me like lightning. The song Loony Lina sang as I died. Could it be... No, no, surely not...but maybe...a survival guide?

You sang it. Don’t you remember? You sang it, and you saved them.

Them? The other kids?

Ten’s tears fall, and I call.

“Hello?” I call. “Is anyone out there?”

Silence greets me. Maybe I’m wrong, but...

“Hello?” I repeat a little louder.

A few yards away, bushes slap together. I tense, wondering if I’ve just summoned the worst of the worst, until a girl shouts, “Where are you?”

“This way!” The song is a blueprint to our salvation. It must be. “Follow the sound of my voice.”

I talk and talk and talk about nothing and finally she steps from the shadows. I recognize her pale braided bun—Kayla!—and race forward.

“Stop,” she screams, and I immediately obey. “Move to the right.”

I do, avoiding a shimmery pocket of air. A pocket that stands upright like a nearly imperceptible doorway. “Thank you.”

The moment I reach her, the peace-seeking activist draws back her hand to slap me. The blow is weak, because she is weak, but it still manages to turn my head.

“I’ve been waiting for you, hoping you’d come back.” She glares at me. “My brother was captured because of you.”

Okay. Should have seen that coming. I rub the corner of my lip. “I’m sorry. I tried to distract the beast. Tried to help you guys.”

“Well, you didn’t.” She withers, wrapping her arms around her middle. “How did you manage to escape? A flash of light radiated from you, and boom, you were gone.”

“My body was resuscitated.” Now. The chitchat will have to wait. Nine hundred trees, but only one is for me. “I’m looking for a special tree. One that won’t hurt us.”

“How did you— Never mind. This way.” She jogs off and I follow, sticking close to her heels, ducking when she ducks, jumping when she jumps. Limbs reach for us, plants bite at us, but none are able to catch us.

“How do you know where you’re going?” I ask.

“The land is a maze filled with hundreds of invisible doorways that lead back to where you started—or into a trap. You either learn to navigate or you become bait for the animals. You don’t want to be bait. Your screams will join all the others as your organs are eaten...regrown...and eaten again.”

Many ends...

As we continue to run, I pick up the pattern in her actions. There’s always a pattern, nothing by chance. Eight steps, duck. Nine steps, jump. Ten steps, turn. Eleven steps, turn. Twelve steps—

This is a count up, I realize. As if I’m gaining more time the farther I go. And if I were to turn and head in the opposite direction—twelve steps duck, eleven steps jump, ten steps turn, nine steps turn, eight steps duck—it would be a countdown. Time running out.

Symbolic?

Boom!

The ground shakes, but I’m used to it and manage to stay on my feet. The trees and foliage shrink away from us, and in the distance, the mushroom cloud rises.

“Hurry!” Kayla pants. “The birds always know when fresh meat has arrived.”

The first tingles of dread arise. One step, five, eight and spin. A loud gaggle of squawks cuts through the smoky air.

“How much farther?” I’m wheezing now.

“Almost...there.” She’s wheezing worse.

Eight times eight times eight they fly, whatever you do, don’t stay dry.

One of the birds swoops down, its claws open, ready to latch on to Kayla. As I dive on her, knocking her out of the way, the tips of those claws scrap my back and I cry out. When we land, we roll forward. Up ahead, there’s an anthill and a swarm of ember-bugs. We’re going to end up in one or the other, because this is freaking Many Ends, and there’s no escaping an opportunity for pain.