The tunnel trembled around them like a living throat. Blue veins in the walls pulsed faintly, dripping moisture that tasted of iron when it hit Aric's lips. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and stared at the cage. The fragment-child's eyes glowed softly, watching him without blinking.
Lyra shifted closer, her voice low. "It said 'blood.' Did it mean ours or somebody else's?"
Aric crouched, examining the tiny figure. It didn't move, but the Mirror in his satchel vibrated with a low hum that resonated in his bones. 'It's a key,' he thought. 'Or a compass. Or a trap.'
Aloud, he said, "I don't know yet."
"That's not comforting," she murmured.
He gave a thin smile. "I'm not in the business of comfort."
Lyra snorted despite herself. "No kidding."
A tremor rolled through the floor. Behind them, somewhere far down the tunnel, came a deep grinding roar—the Red Engine had recovered. Aric felt the vibration in his teeth. The fragment-child flinched inside the cage, curling tighter.
Lyra's eyes flicked back the way they'd come. "It's coming."
He stood. "Then we keep moving."
The tunnel sloped downward, the blue veins brightening as they went. The air grew warmer, metallic. The walls narrowed until they were brushing shoulders with damp stone on both sides. Lyra wrinkled her nose. "It smells like a butcher's shop."
Aric said nothing, but the same smell—iron, old meat—filled his mouth. His fingers brushed the Mirror and new symbols flickered at the edges of his vision: a circle cut with three blades, pulsing red.
They emerged into a chamber shaped like a bowl. The floor was a mosaic of dark stone, cracked in places to reveal glowing veins beneath. At the center stood a massive stone arch, taller than a house, etched with runes that crawled like ants. It was black except where channels of red liquid had been carved into its grooves, forming a pattern like a network of veins leading to a small basin at its base.
Lyra stared. "That's a gate."
Aric felt the Mirror hum. "'Bloodgate,'" he thought. The fragment-child sat up inside the cage and pointed a tiny finger at the basin.
Lyra glanced at him. "Please tell me you don't have to fill that with—"
"I don't know," he said quickly.
She folded her arms. "Not comforting."
He moved closer, kneeling at the basin. The channels in the stone pulsed faintly, like something waiting to drink. He could smell copper and salt. He reached out but stopped just shy of touching. The Mirror's pulse quickened. Inside his head a jagged whisper formed: Blood seals. Blood opens.
Aric's jaw tightened. 'It wants a sacrifice.'
Behind him Lyra said, "You're making that face again."
"What face?"
"The 'I'm about to do something stupid' face."
He exhaled. "Might not have a choice."
The floor vibrated. Dust rained from the ceiling. The Red Engine's roar echoed faintly but closer now. Lyra's hands tightened into fists, threads of light flickering between her fingers. "It's coming. We're out of time."
Aric looked at the fragment-child. Its eyes glowed brighter, lips moving soundlessly. Then a whisper filled his mind again: Your blood…or the unworthy's.
He frowned. 'Unworthy?'
He turned to Lyra. "It wants blood to open. Doesn't have to be ours."
She blinked. "Then whose—"
A new voice interrupted. "You mean ours."
They spun. The two remaining mask-bearers stepped from the tunnel mouth, weapons raised. Their ceramic masks were cracked and scorched from the Engine's steam, but their movements were steady. One of them bled from a cut on his arm, red staining his black coat.
Lyra muttered under her breath, "Great timing."
The leader raised his staff. "Hand over the fragment. Now."
Aric rose slowly, cage in one hand, Mirror hidden in the other. "I don't think you understand. We're all about to be crushed by a steam-powered nightmare unless I open that arch."
"Then open it," the leader said, "and we'll take the fragment through."
Aric tilted his head. "You're bleeding."
The man's grip tightened. "So?"
"So you're a volunteer." Aric's smile was sharp.
The second bearer shifted, uncertain. Lyra's threads coiled like snakes around her wrists.
The leader took a step closer. "Do you know who you're dealing with, boy?"
Aric met his masked gaze. 'Two against two. Both injured. The Gate wants blood. The Engine is seconds behind. Play them.' He said aloud, "Yeah. Two men out of time, out of options."
The floor shook violently. Steam hissed from the tunnel mouth. The Red Engine's glow flickered in the darkness behind them.
Lyra murmured, "Aric…"
He raised a hand slightly. "Wait."
He looked back at the mask-bearers. "We can all live, but I need a sacrifice. Just a little blood to open the gate."
"Not happening," the leader snapped.
Aric's smile widened. "Then the Engine will get its meal anyway."
The fragment-child whispered, audible now: "Blood…or furnace…"
The second bearer hesitated, looking back at the glow creeping down the tunnel. "It's coming—"
Aric seized the moment. He flicked the Mirror, and a chord of red light slashed across the floor between them like a drawn blade. The air smelled of burning iron.
"I'm done negotiating," he said. "You want through? Give me your blood."
The leader lunged forward with a snarl, staff raised. Lyra's threads snapped outward, catching his arm and yanking him off balance. Aric darted in, slicing a shallow line across the man's wrist with the Mirror's edge. Blood spattered into the basin at the gate's base.
The stone arch shuddered. The channels glowed brighter, red liquid racing through the runes like fire in a fuse. The leader roared, tearing free of Lyra's threads, but it was too late—the gate was waking.
The second bearer dropped his staff, backing away. "What is this place—"
A deafening roar cut him off. The Red Engine surged into the chamber, its furnace blazing. Steam blasted outward, knocking everyone to the floor. The fragment-child screamed, the sound like shattered glass.
The gate's runes flared, a pulse of crimson light engulfing the arch. The basin drained, drinking the blood. A vertical seam appeared at the center of the stone, widening like an opening eye. Beyond it was not stone but a swirling vista of dark water under a starless sky.
Lyra scrambled to her feet. "It's open!"
Aric grabbed her arm, hauling her up. "Move!"
The leader snarled and swung his staff, but a burst of steam from the Engine knocked him aside. He crashed against the wall, mask shattering.
Aric and Lyra sprinted for the gate. Behind them the Red Engine lunged, its massive head snapping toward them. Heat rolled over their backs like a furnace door opening.
They reached the arch. The swirling darkness inside pulsed once, then steadied. Lyra looked at him. "Are you sure about this?"
"No," he said.
"Fantastic." She gripped his sleeve tighter.
They jumped.
The world folded. For an instant Aric felt nothing but cold water and endless stars. Then his feet hit stone and he stumbled forward, coughing. The air smelled of salt and ozone.
They were standing on a black shore under a ceiling of jagged rock. A sea of dark water stretched away, its waves glowing faintly with blue fire. Huge pillars rose from the depths like the ribs of some impossible creature. In the distance, something moved beneath the surface, vast and slow.
Lyra bent over, hands on her knees. "We're alive. We're actually alive."
Aric set the cage down. The fragment-child had curled into a ball, glowing softly. The Mirror's pulse slowed.
He looked back. The gate stood behind them, its surface swirling. Through it he saw the Red Engine rear back, furnace blazing. The leader staggered toward the arch, reaching.
Then the gate shuddered and slammed shut like a closing mouth. The stone went dead and cold.
Lyra straightened slowly. "So…where exactly are we?"
Aric looked out over the glowing sea. The air tasted like storms, and the sound of distant waves echoed like a heartbeat.
He thought, 'The second Domain. The map is real.'
Aloud, he said, "Somewhere nobody's supposed to be."
Lyra's lips quirked. "Coffee shop's looking better and better."
He smiled faintly, then frowned as the Mirror flickered with a new symbol: a spiral descending into darkness.
Behind them the fragment-child sat up, eyes glowing brighter than before. "You chose the Path," it whispered. "But the Path…chose you."
Aric felt a chill despite the warm air. He thought, 'That doesn't sound like good news.'
The sea rumbled, waves rising higher. Something vast shifted beneath the glowing water, and a low, distant horn sounded—like a call or a warning.
Lyra's smile faded. "Aric…what was that?"
He gripped the Mirror, heart pounding. "Hook," he muttered under his breath. "That was the hook."