The Luminous Dead

by Caitlin Starling

The problem, as far as Gyre could see it—aside from this being a suicide mission to begin with—was that half of any success was luck. She’d always believed that. It scared a lot of people, and sometimes it made her angry, because of course she wanted to control her fate.

But I don’t know that I could have gone on wrapped itself around her heart, nestled in her chest. She meant something. She was different from the other cavers. The warmth she felt was part rage on those other cavers’ accounts, but a lot of it was simply happiness at being seen. At being wanted. She was pathetic. They both were.

Em had been clear: the only thing unique about Gyre was the combination of her failures.