He spoke through the gentle kiss. “I love you, Darsal.” His breath was hot on her mouth. Musky and sweet. She longed to taste it the rest of her life. “Live so that I can die knowing I’ve saved you. Please, I beg you, I beg—”

“No!” Darsal cried, placing her hands on his chest and shoving him away. Then leaning into a scream, “No!”

She grabbed the water bag from him, marched up to the gate, and sent the Shataiki reeling with a huge splash. She slammed the gate, shoved the bolt down, and spun back.

“You can’t do this to me . . .” But her voice faltered. Then she couldn’t speak for the fist in her throat. She stood limp, shaking with terrible sobs. Darsal felt his arms pull her in, and she fell into his chest willingly. For a long moment he just held her, drawing his fingers along her back as she wept into his neck.

Behind her the gate began to rattle again. The Shataiki were coming, and this time there wasn’t enough water to push them back.

The book pressed into her waist where Johnis had shoved it. Billos spoke frantically. “You have to tell Johnis everything! The white room and Paradise were only a reflection of reality, like a game. A skin or a book’s cover. But the real Paradise exists. On Earth. Marsuvees Black is the Dark One. Three of the books are hidden on Earth, but with these four all seven will be on Earth and will be visible to anyone. You have to tell Johnis.”

The bolt was sliding.

“He knows! It’s not a reason—”

“I’m the reason!” Billos shouted. Then he spoke softer, his eyes reaching beyond her to the gate. “Live for me. We’ll open the book and touch it together. If I am meant to go with you, I will.”

She didn’t feel like she could move. The gate squealed. Billos grabbed the book from her waistband, popped the red twine, and flipped it open before her.

“For me,” he said.

Darsal looked into his eyes. He was asking her to do this for him. It was the last thing she would ever do for him. But she loved him too much to deny him this one dying request.

She leaned forward and kissed him hard. Then pulled back and set her jaw. “I love you desperately, Billos of Southern. You are my chosen one.”

A grin tugged gently at his right cheek. “I am, huh?”

He winked. Then he shoved his hand on the opened page.

Two thoughts crowded Darsal’s mind. The first was that the Shataiki were breathing down her neck. The second was that Billos wasn’t disappearing.

He suddenly grabbed her hand, sliced it open, and flattened it against the page. “And now I choose you.”