“You,” he said, “are a genius.”

“Nope,” Shane said. “But it turns out my no-good past is good for something after all.”

Michael threw his arm around Shane’s neck and ruffled his hair. “Good job, bro.”

“Dessicants,” Myrnin said wonderingly. “A mostly modern invention. We used them before, with very limited success, because they took so long to work; silica was tried, and other minerals, but this … this is astonishing. How much can a scoop of it absorb?”

“One hell of a lot,” Shane said. “Use enough and it turns into a solid, like jelly, and you can just pick it up and toss it out.” He had a dark flush in his cheeks, but his eyes were gleaming. He was proud of himself.

Good. He deserved to be.

Myrnin did an absolutely crazy little dance, one that left Claire openmouthed and wishing she’d taken video, because that was something she was sure she’d never see again in her lifetime.

Michael took the rest of the scoop and made a little powdery line across the threshold. The incoming water ran into it and just … disappeared. “I’ll check the perimeter,” he said. “Hope you guys brought a deck of cards. We’re going to have time to kill in here.” He grinned at Shane. “Seriously, man. You’re my hero.”

Shane still looked happy, but then … then something happened. His smile faltered, fell away. He stood very still, watching Michael.

“What? What did I say?” Michael asked him. “You okay?”

Shane had just … shut down. Michael glanced aside at Claire, and she took Shane’s hand. No response. “Shane? What’s wrong?”

“Hero,” he whispered. “Michael said I was his hero.”

“Well, you’re mine, too.”

“Always wanted to be … but it isn’t right, that can’t be right. Isn’t there a pool inside? We have to get to the pool, put the silver in the pool ….” He squeezed his eyes shut, and he was trembling now. “This is wrong. I can’t be the hero. I can’t be. That’s how I know … know it’s wrong.”

“Shane!”

He just … folded up, suddenly, and collapsed with a hollow boom of his back against the metal wall of the shed as he sat down. His eyes opened, and they were haunted, dark, empty. “This isn’t right,” he said. He looked at her, but it was as if he didn’t really see her. “You can’t be here. You weren’t here. You were safe. I’d never let you get hurt, Claire. Not again. It was just us, not you …”

“What in heaven is he talking about?” Myrnin snapped. “We don’t have time for this—”

“He’s remembering the dreams,” Michael said softly. “The draug make humans dream. I don’t think he can tell the difference anymore between then and now.”

Myrnin considered that for about, oh, a second, and then shook it off. “Irrelevant,” he said. “This substance he found changes everything. With this chemical, we can make weapons that will not just weaken but kill them, destroy them utterly, and do no harm to those vampires trapped inside the pools. Thousands of years of terror, death, running—all of it can end. We need to find a way to leave here and kill Magnus. He is the only one who matters now.”