Arjun’s hand shot out to Karam’s, but he kept the other on the man’s temple, not breaking the connection.

“He’s an Intuitcrafter,” Arjun said.

The same as Zekia.

The same as Wesley.

Intuitcrafters could see into all the futures of the world, all the possibilities of what was to come and what had already been.

“He’ll die once I break the connection,” Arjun said. “But you need to see this.”

“You want me to go inside his mind?”

“You must see,” Arjun urged, his hand still stretched out. “Give me your hand.”

Karam threaded her fingers quickly through his.

The vision did not flow through her. It did not coat her mind like a warm blanket or ease into her sight.

It hit her like a thousand fists.

At first Karam could make out nothing but flashing images and voices so loud that they drilled into her skull. The world was a mess of colors and sound, and no matter how hard Karam tried, she couldn’t make sense of it.

She just knew she didn’t belong in this place and the place knew it too.

The Crafter’s mind wanted her gone and it was going to do whatever it took to expel her.

Arjun squeezed Karam’s hand and the world focused, just a little.

She felt a pulling in her stomach, like there was a string wrapped around her insides and someone was yanking it harshly toward them.

Karam closed her eyes.

The pulling grew more violent. She felt her body convulse and the piercing noises got louder and louder.

Then everything went still.

Karam opened her eyes with hesitance, not quite ready to face the world of unending madness and voices screaming in her ears.

But there was nothing.

When she looked to her hand, still clutched tightly in Arjun’s, it was alight in the gold of his magic, tethering her to him.

“Look,” Arjun said.

He pointed and Karam finally saw.

Wesley stood in the shadows, that familiar half smile on his lips. He seemed taller than Karam remembered and though he was thinner, he still looked very much like Wesley. There was a brand of arrogance and ego to his smile that could never be lost. Tavia was by his side, and in front of them both was Zekia.

Was the Kingpin.

Dante Ashwood was as much a ghost as ever, with his cane clutched in his spindly fingers the only solid part of him. Everything else was shadow and bone.

He placed a hand on Zekia’s shoulder.

“My little warrior,” he said. “Make me proud.”

Zekia nodded.

Karam’s eyes widened.

She had Wesley’s gun.

Zekia raised the weapon in the air, pointing it straight at Tavia.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner,” she said.

And then she pulled the trigger.