Aria swept her hair behind her ear and tried to slow her breathing. Cold sweat had broken out along her neck. “I’m sure I’ll go insane if I stay here any longer.”

Molly smiled, her full cheeks glowing in the lamplight. “I’ve heard that very comment a few times today.” She pressed a rough-skinned hand to Aria’s cheek. “Your fever’s down, but you’re due for more medication.”

“No.” Aria shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m tired of being asleep.”

Asleep wasn’t really the right word. For the past days, she had a few murky recollections of surfacing from a black abyss for medicine and sips of broth. Sometimes Perry was there, holding her and whispering in her ear. When he’d spoken, she’d seen the glow of embers. Other than that, there’d been nothing but darkness—or nightmares.

Molly took her numb hand and squeezed. Aria felt nothing, but as Molly probed higher, she sucked in a breath, her stomach clenching.

“You’ve had some nerve damage,” Molly said. “I suppose you’re figuring that out for yourself.”

“But it’ll heal, won’t it? Eventually?”

“I care for you too much to give false hope, Aria. The truth is I don’t know. Marron and I did the best we could. We were able to save the limb, at least. For a while it looked like we might have to remove it.”

Aria drew away, turning toward the shadows as the words sank in. Her arm had almost been removed. Taken off, like some expendable part. An accessory. A hat or a scarf. Had she really come that close to waking up and finding a piece of herself missing?

“It’s the arm that was poisoned,” she said, tucking it close to her side. “It wasn’t much to start with anyway.” Her Marking, the half-finished tattoo that would have established her as an Aud, was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen. “Will you show me around, Molly?”

Aria didn’t wait for an answer. The urge to see Perry—and to forget about her arm—was overwhelming. Ducking through the tent flaps, she came to a dead stop outside.

She looked up, overcome by the sheer presence of the cave, a hefty immensity that felt both close and everywhere. Stalactites of every size emerged from the darkness above, darkness unlike what she’d experienced in her medicated haze. That had been empty, an absence. This darkness had sound and volume. It felt full and alive, droning low and constant in her ears.

She drew a deep breath. The cool air smelled brackish and smoky, the scents so strong she could taste them.

“For most of us, the darkness is the hardest part,” Molly said, coming to her side.