“I cannot be contained.” She says this as though it should be obvious. “Not by language or time.” “What the hell are you?” I breathe. “I thought you wanted to see me.” Her face is unreadable. “Why else would you take the Plague?” “For power,” I say sternly. “Or to die knowing you tried everything to get it.” It feels as though the room is spinning around me. “You thought I took the Plague to see you.” My voice is hoarse. “That would mean…”
