“Then she shall come,” Darcy said. “What we seek is clearly not here anyway.” “No,” Tory agreed, though somehow it wasn’t like a normal conversation, more like the musings of a single mind, uncertain of which path to follow next. “Death was…less than I expected,” Darcy sighed. “Much less. No more tempting than before. I still fail to understand the call of it,” Tory exhaled, her hand clasping my arm, the touch of her flesh like a bite of utter darkness which stole the breath from my lungs. “Come, empty girl. We have work to do. We must seek the other fallen.”
