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“No. Please. We have to save Tristan.”

But he clutched me to his chest as I fought him.

At the entranceway, Tristan grappled with the Custodian, pushing him farther back into the Land of Ghosts.

“No!”

The shimmering fiery edge wavered and flared, then began to deflate like a child’s discarded balloon.

“Tristan!”

Pale alabaster limbs, black robe, and Tristan were all caught in a skirmish filling what was left of the fizzling portal.

“Tristan! No. No. No.”

“Emily, stay still. You can’t help him,” Dylan cried.

Dark smoke filled the diminishing arc of light.

“Please!” I begged Dylan to let me go. “I have to go with him! I want to go with him! I should be with them.”

“No, Emily.” Dylan’s voice was pained. “No. What are you talking about? You belong here.”

The Custodian pushed Tristan to the ground, his clawlike hands around his throat.

I struggled against Dylan, fighting and clawing at his arms to let me go, and all of a sudden, I broke free. I dashed to the portal and threw myself through it into the Land of Ghosts.

“Emily!” I heard Dylan’s anguished cry.

I ignored him and stretched out my hands, and using all my strength, I pushed the Custodian off Tristan, taking it and Tristan by surprise. It hissed a horrible noise and sprawled out beside him on the moss, all pale alabaster limbs and flowing robes.

“What the fuck! Beauchamp!” Tristan shouted, and he sprang to his feet and grabbed me by my shoulders, his eyes wild. “God, I love you,” he said and pressed his lips to mine, but then pushed me backward through the shimmering portal so I was back in my bedroom.

Dylan wrapped his arms around me, holding me fast against his body. “Emily. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Tristan,” I called, but the darkness rose, the swirling smoke consuming him and the Custodian so they were swallowed whole in the ever-decreasing circle of sparks.

“No!”

With a loud fizz and crackle, the light disappeared, leaving nothing but the sulfurous smell of decay behind.

“No!” I screamed, and with all the force I could muster, I broke free from Dylan’s hold again and knelt at the corner of the room. But there was nothing, nothing but new carpet and pink paint and golden vines and dust motes floating in the pale dawn light of a new day.

“No. No. No.” I started keening. “Tristan. No. You said you would stay with me. You said you would stay.” I wrapped my arms around my waist and curled up on the carpet, howling as my soul and heart were torn in two once more.

***

There’s noise. It’s vague. What is that? It’s a beeping. An incessant beeping that he hears first. It’s low, like it’s coming from the end of a long tunnel. A tunnel of darkness and fear. It’s so soft and faint that he has to strain to hear it, and that takes a huge mental and physical effort. It’s exhausting. Slowly, it gets louder. And louder and louder as it becomes more insistent and faster. Nearer and nearer his ear.

And then there’s the pain. Everywhere. His throat. His head. His arms. And he can’t move. He’s trapped. Trapped by straps holding him down, or is it something else? Something beyond heavy. Something unworldly. Or is it his own body betraying him? He doesn’t know. He wants to cry out, but he has no voice. His mouth is dry. Arid dry. Like salt flats. Or the Gobi fucking Desert.

I’m in hell.

His eyelids are heavy. Heavier than lead. But he wills them to open.

Open. Open. Open.

And a crack of blurry dazzling light registers and bounces with the force of a cricket ball hurled at the back of his retinas.