Yorl’s voice is suddenly granite determination. “I’ve waited ten years. I pored over every inch of knowledge in the world for this moment; I’ve sacrificed everything to Varia for this. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

I hear him walk the rest of the way in. He’s utterly, perilously mad, but it’s not every day I meet a mortal willing to risk their one life for something this strenuously. I’m impressed. And more than a little concerned.

Unfortunately, the celeon have decided against installing lighting in the few minutes I was dead. It’s just as dark inside the chamber as it was before I died. I down the vial Yorl gives me, listening to the deep breathing echoing around the massive room.

“Hi,” I try into the shadows. “Me again. Are you still up?”

“You could talk to an ancient wyrm with a little more respect,” Yorl hisses from across the chamber.

“And you can kiss my very well-developed arse,” I hiss back. The slither of scales suddenly echoes, getting closer, and then an intrusive gust of hot, rancid wind assaults my senses. I backpedal, until my spine is flat against the metal wall, cold fear gripping my throat.

“You,” the valkerax croaks with its ancient, deep vibrato. “You stand here. You have escaped death.”

I put my hand shakily to my empty chest. “You could say I’m an expert at that.”

The valkerax gives a resounding snort, and I can feel dirt swell up beneath my tunic with the force. “This we know. It is like life, like death, like the little cliffs of the bloodeyes—always true. The chimes took our bones, and they took your heart.”

Took my heart— It knows what I am? The fear coursing through me suddenly plummets, and the valkerax and I breathe into the utter blackness together. It feels like it’s just us in this moment—two monsters below the world.

The valkerax shudders in agony, and I feel the ground shudder with it. The worst part is, I can imagine exactly what it’s feeling. Every second must be delirious pain. It’s a miracle I can understand the valkerax at all—serum or no.

“Is going possible?” The valkerax breaks the silence finally.

“If I can teach you, maybe.”

“Then teach with pretty voice-words. Sing us the ways to silence the song. Metal the blade to its throat.”

I close my eyes and cling to the memories of Reginall. The way he taught me—soft and even, calm.

“There are two parts.” I open my eyes out of habit, not usefulness. “There’s the mental part of it, and then there’s the physical part. But the physical part is…difficult to deal with.”

“Our knowing is unknowing. Sing in child-words.” The valkerax thumps its tail against the ground, a little quake running through the entire chamber.