Bram’s expression changes. His eyes are soft, alive with some new realization. His fingers tighten briefly around mine before he lets go.

“Whoa,” Talon says. “That must have been …” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his face full of emotion. He was obviously as immersed in Bram’s memory as I was, and he looks shaken. Talon claps him on the shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Bram nods in acknowledgment.

Niklas clears his throat. “Should we keep going? If we wait, I’ll lose my nerve.”

We move into the mouth of the opening. Bones dangle from the roof like icicles and push up from the floor like spikes. It’s too narrow a space to join hands, so we move single file, staying as close as possible to one another.

Jacey takes the lead, placing each foot carefully. We all seem to have the same instinct to avoid contact with the bones. I try to step precisely where she steps, moving as cautiously as possible through the space. It seems to be working.

And then Jacey trips.

I reach out to steady her, but I’m not fast enough. Jacey’s hand juts out and grabs one of the bones near her knee. She yelps as it stabs her palm.

We all freeze. Jacey presses on the wound with her opposite hand. A fat drop of blood falls to the floor.

And the world goes dark.

I’m swept off my feet and stuffed into a tight space. My knees are wedged beneath my chin, and my back aches as if I’ve been in the same position for hours. Rough fabric covers my face, scratching at my cheeks and pulling toward my mouth with every breath. My entire body sways slightly as if—cold horror seeps into me—as if I’m stuffed in a bag dangling from a tree. I try to claw my way out, kick my feet, raise my arms above my head, but the space is too tight, and the only thing I succeed in doing is making the bag swing more violently.

My nose is filled with the scent of rot and death.

Nausea pushes up my throat. How did I get here? My thoughts spin wildly, grasping for something just out of reach. I’m too constricted to think clearly.

I don’t do well in enclosed spaces.

Jacey. As soon as her face floats into my mind, I hear a piercing scream next to me. It’s as if my mind has punched through the illusion and allowed a pinprick of reality to seep in.

This isn’t real, I tell myself. My feet are on solid ground. There’s nothing blocking my nose or mouth. It’s not real.