“Be careful!” he yelled at her.

“Just trying to give you a scare,” she called back.

“Not funny! At all!”

Sarah jumped to the next island, and as soon as she was safe and settled, Michael followed, hopping onto the first rock.

“Take your time!” he shouted.

“Relax,” she replied.

She hurdled the next gap, and then the next, not waiting for him anymore. Michael followed her quickly, terrified by the possibility of her slipping into the magma. Rock by rock, he bounded across the lava after her, and soon they’d made it safely to the long spit of black rock on the other side.

Sarah pulled him into a fierce hug, surprising him.

“That was scary,” she whispered into his ear. “Oh man, that was scary.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders. “Yeah, you were a little reckless, don’t ya think?” Despite being in the middle of a volcano, he was enjoying the hug far too much and didn’t want it to end.

“Better to just do it than worry over every single step.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

She pulled back, looked at him. A tear had leaked out of her eye, cutting its way through the grime down her cheek until it formed into a drop at her chin. Then it fell and landed on her shirt.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, then hugged him again. “Come on, let’s get up to that next tunnel and cool off.”

“Let’s hope.”

They ran across the bridge, which seemed safe compared to the stepping-stones. On the other side there was a slope of dirt and rocks that stretched to the wall of the cavern. They scrambled up to get as far away from the lava as possible, then ran along the edge toward the mouth of the next tunnel, Sarah right in front of Michael.

They were only twenty feet away when it happened.

Michael had just relaxed a bit, allowing himself to think of those moments he’d shared with Sarah. The talk, holding hands, the hug. He should’ve known that was when everything would go wrong.

They were passing a large pool of lava at the bottom of the slope when there was a giant sucking noise, then a roar that sounded like a furnace coming to life. Michael spun just in time to see a spout of molten rock shoot from the pool, a perfect pillar of fiery orange death, headed directly at Sarah.

When it hit her, she fell to the ground—and her scream was like nothing Michael had ever heard before.

6

The horror Michael felt was so consuming that he forgot all about the VirtNet and his Coffin back at home. He forgot that death simply meant that Sarah would wake up in her own Coffin, safe and sound, if a little shaken up.

All he saw was his friend in pain. The lava burned through her clothes and skin in an instant, revealing a nightmarish display of muscle and bone. Her screams faded into gurgling sounds as she collapsed into a heap that shattered Michael’s heart.

And it all happened so fast.

He ran to her but stopped, knowing he couldn’t risk his own life—the lava was seeping back along the dirt toward the pool from which it had erupted.

But Sarah wasn’t dead yet. She lay curled in a ball on the ground, trembling. Michael carefully inched closer to look at her face. Her eyes were open and he could see the pain reflected in them.

“Sarah,” he whispered, searching for words. “Sarah. I’m so sorry.”

She struggled to speak, choking as she did. Michael leaned in as closely as he could, put his ear just above her head.

“Mi—” she started, but was interrupted by a violent cough. As much as Michael hated it that she’d be leaving him, he wanted her to die as soon as possible. To go back to the Wake. Every bit of suffering that consumed her would feel completely real until that happened.

“Sarah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you lead. I should’ve …”

“Shut,” she forced out. “Up.” More coughs shook her body.

“I can’t stand it,” Michael said to her. “Sarah, I can’t stand this. I can’t take it. I just want to go back with you. Maybe I’ll jump into the lava.”

“No!” she screamed, making him flinch. “You … fin … ish!”

He was silent for a few seconds. But he knew she was right. “Okay. I will. I promise.”

“Find … Hallowed … Ravine,” she said between more choked coughing. “I …”

“Stop talking, Sarah.” Michael’s heart ached. He wanted her back home and safe. “Let it go. I swear I’ll hurry through the rest of this and be done. Remember our deal. A day in the sun. A day in the Wake. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

“De … deal.” Michael thought that was it. That she’d gone. But then she spoke again. “Michael.” She said it clearly and completely, and he felt a rushing in his chest, something that squeezed and burned.

Then her last breath sighed out of her, her chest falling for the final time. A few seconds later she disappeared, her physical body waking up in the real world. Leaving Michael deep within the VirtNet, in a place almost no one knew about, in the middle of a Path that seemingly had no end to its length—or to its horrors.

And he was alone.

He was completely alone.

CHAPTER 20

A BODY OF SILVER

1

Michael tried not to think for the next few hours. He had no time to be sad or wallow in self-pity. He’d promised Sarah he would make it the rest of the way, and that was all he allowed himself to focus on. It helped to know she wasn’t really dead, although whenever the memory of her last moments crept back into his thoughts, waves of pain washed through him.

Which was why he had to push it all away. Turn it off.

There was another long tunnel, cut through in several places by rivers of lava. Michael jumped over them as carefully as possible. He approached a nasty spot where magma sporadically shot down from a crack in the ceiling. He waited, guessed, relied on his instincts. Barely missed getting burned when he sprinted past. Shortly after, an entire side of the tunnel collapsed just as he passed by, and a gushing river of molten rock, sparking with fire and heat, came streaming after him. He ran, ran hard, the edge of the hellish river right at his feet. But eventually it began to cool and he was able to slow down.

There were longer tunnels and bigger caves. Lava everywhere. The heat rising to impossible temperatures, then rising again. Michael’s body, dripping with sweat. His throat more parched than ever before—like a desert, a moonscape. He would’ve drunk water from the filthiest stream, from a swamp, from a sewage plant. He lusted after it, but there was none to be found, and gradually his strength was sapped, hunger aching inside him.