The taste of iron under my tongue. I spit blood onto the cold stones.
— Still standing? the hooded figure whispers, leaning against the wall.
I clutch my torn arm. Each pulse makes my fingers shake. The Mark growls—hunger, laughter gnawing inside my skull.
— You've nothing left to give, it mutters. What now, Tracer? The next gate…
I stare at the arch ahead. Lower, carved from yellowed bone, veined with black runes.
— What will it take this time? I whisper, more to myself than to her.
— Depends. Bone Gates demand truth, or flesh. Sometimes both.
The Mark stretches under my skin, familiar burn.
— Let me do it, it hisses in my head. I can gnaw the lock. But you won't survive.
— You heard that? I breathe to the figure.
— Heard what?
I shrug, grimacing. Too late to explain.
— I'll try. But if I fall, keep going without me.
She shakes her head, hurried shadow.
— Shut it. No one crosses these gates alone.
I reach for the rune. The glass shard trembles in my palm. Every drop of blood costs me a memory—the name of my mother, gone, erased.
— Enough, the Mark snarls. Give me something fresh. A secret. A real one.
I hesitate.
— Dangerous, isn't it? I heard… secrets are poison to you.
— Exactly, it chuckles. I want one. Tell me, and the gate opens.
I feel the figure's gaze on me.
— What's it asking?
— A secret. My secret.
— Can you lie?
— No. The Mark knows.
I close my eyes. Search the shadows of memory for something I never said, not even to myself.
— The first time I killed… it wasn't to survive. It was to see. To understand what it felt like.
A shock. The rune pulses, the Bone Gate groans. The Mark drinks my words, and my heart clenches.
— You're a monster, the figure mutters. Yet you look human.
— You want to pass, or not?
A metallic shriek. The gate opens. The stench of ash and rot slaps me. I move forward. My legs buckle, but the Mark holds me, triumphant.
— See? it whispers. Secrets nourish more than memories. But you bleed longer.
I stagger. My arm bleeds, cold gnaws my skin. Footsteps clang behind.
— Hurry! The shadows are closing in!
I glance back. Two hulking silhouettes, empty eyes, advancing.
— Wait, Tracer. One question. If you die here… where does your Mark go?
A shiver down my spine. The Mark chuckles.
— It chooses a new bearer, it answers for me. Or scatters its fragments in the nearest flesh.
Fear flashes in my companion's eyes.
— Then don't stop. Not now.
I cross the Bone Gate. Behind me, stone trembles. A frozen breath pushes me forward.
The Mark murmurs, delighted.
— Want to know how deep I can burrow?
I clench the shard tight. My secret still seeps, sticky, unseen.
Ahead, another glow. Another gate.
— Always another, I whisper. Always further.
A drumbeat pounds in my head. The shadows press closer.
— Tracer, move. We're not alone.
I lunge forward. The fangs of the next gate already gleam in the dark.