I call out to him, or I try, but it’s nothing but bubbles, air I can’t afford to lose. My lungs are screaming now as Jacob crouches to free his leg and doesn’t see the driftwood skimming toward his head until it’s too late.

I see the driftwood hit him. I watch him fold, and then I’m swimming down, against the cold, against the current, against the drag of my own limbs.

And it’s so much farther than it should be, and it’s so much harder than it should be, but I reach him. He floats there, like a dreamer, as I grapple with the sticks and stones around his shoe, find the one that snagged his laces, gripped his heel.

I get him free.

By now my vision is blinking out, darkness creeping in around the edges, but all I need to do is look up, swim up, hold on to my best friend as we rise to the surface.

I break through the icy water, gasping, and Jacob sputters beside me.

“Cass?” he gasps, blinking away the darkness, the dream. “What … I don’t … I was down there … and …”

“I’ve got you,” I say as we swim toward the riverbank. But the moment we climb out of the water and onto dry ground, the muddy earth vanishes beneath my fingers, replaced by smooth stone.

We’re back on the cold, dark bridge. The Bridge of Souls. Together, not quite alive, but out of that other river, and wherever it led.

Mist swirls around us, swallowing both ends of the bridge. My clothes are dry, but I’m still shivering as we get to our feet.

“We have to get out of here,” says Jacob.

“Not without Lara,” I snap, and he frowns at me and says, “Obviously. But how do we find her?”

I look around, but all I see is mist.

I grip Lara’s red backpack on my shoulder, and close my eyes, and breathe, and try to feel the thread that binds us together, the connection that runs between all in-betweeners. But right now, I can’t feel anything but the bridge. I open my eyes and squint, trying to figure out which way is back and which is forward. They both look the same, but one way feels like danger, and the other feels like home.

And that’s how I know which way to go.

I go against the current of my fear.

I go against the urge to flee.

Against the desire to live.

And toward the far side of the bridge.

At least I’m not alone. Jacob is with me, every step. But soon, I start to feel … tired. The cold I felt back in the river is still winding through my bones. My teeth begin to chatter. My legs start to ache. My head is swimming, the way it does when I stay in the Veil too long.