It spreads its maw wide, teeth nipping at Yorl’s heels, and with pumping lungs and legs, I slide between them, slamming my foot into the valkerax’s bottom jaw and wedging my arm against the top, fangs embedding in my palms. I can’t run away or overpower it. It’s too strong and enormous.

The only way to stop it is to endure it.

The valkerax is a thousand stampeding horses; it is a tidal wave to end all tidal waves. It’s angry and hungry and mad and it tells me with its furious shriek close to my ear—so close the sheer volume bursts my eardrums, blood dripping down my jaw—that it hates me. Rank saliva sluices down my arm, one of its fangs indenting into my shin and cracking it.

“We will kill the mortal,” the valkerax snarls. “For the wolf’s lies!”

“I didn’t lie!” I grit. “I can teach you!”

“The wolf has done it once. Once is a fly’s life. Once is a single drop of water in the lake. Once is a mistake.”

“I’m the last Heartless alive,” I shout, blinking saliva out of my eyes, “who can do it! I’m not giving you false hope. I’m giving you your only hope!”

The valkerax snaps its maw shut, taking my shin and forearm with it. Once the limbs are off, the pain is less—less nerves and flesh as hot adrenaline rushes up to stopper all feeling. I fling myself onto the valkerax’s wet black nose, clinging to one of its undulating whiskers with my last good hand. The valkerax thrashes, a sickening forceful whirl to throw me off, but I hold fast, digging my nails into its scales.

“It’s not freedom!” I shout. “It will never be freedom! But for a moment, you can go back to the way things were!”

The valkerax tears off suddenly for a cold wall, and at the very last second I manage to pull my bleeding lower body up onto its muzzle, the wyrm reeling in pain. I know this despair—I was just as hopeful when Reginall first told me about Weeping. But he let me down easier than I let this valkerax down. I didn’t explain well enough, and it’s paying the emotional price. It’s been a prisoner to the Bone Tree for longer than Cavanos has stood, and I’ve toyed with its hope.

“Warmbloods took us into the sky. The song is too loud! THE SONG IS TOO LOUD!” the valkerax cries out, beating its tail against the wall, the stone buckling under the force and a rain of dust pouring from the ceiling. “Warmbloods tore our earth-home apart. We will tear your sky-home!”

“I don’t have a home,” I bellow. “And neither do you!”