The veins had reached his elbow.
Ember stared at his arm in the grey light filtering through cracks in the stone. Dark lines under his skin, spreading like cracks in ice. He counted them. Seven new ones since yesterday. Seven.
How many until they reach my heart?
Kaelen was already awake, watching him from the doorway. She didn't say anything. Didn't need to.
She's waiting to see if I break. They're all waiting.
He wrapped the cloth back around his wrist. Tighter this time. Like that would help.
Like anything helps.
Wick appeared in the doorway.
"It's time."
"Of course it is."
They left before dawn. The camps watched them leave. Silent. Calculating. Ember could feel their eyes on his back.
They know. They know what I'm carrying.
"Stop looking back."
Kaelen's voice was quiet.
"I'm not—"
"You are. And it makes you look weak."
"I am weak. I'm exhausted and terrified and about to fight thirty monsters with a curse I don't understand."
"Then don't look weak while you do it."
They walked into the dunes. The grey sand shifted beneath his feet.
Ember looked at his wrapped wrist. The cloth was already showing a faint glow.
The mark was hungry.
Of course it is. It's always hungry.
"How do you know where the nest is?"
Wick gestured ahead at a black rock formation.
"Scavengers nest in darkness. Caves. Anywhere the light doesn't reach."
"And we're walking straight toward it."
"You have a better plan?"
"Run. Hide. Literally anything else."
"Too late for that."
Ember's mind raced. Thirty scavengers. Maybe more. The last one almost killed him.
This time there won't be time for arrows. This time it's all of them at once.
If I use the mark, the veins spread. If I don't, I die. That's the choice. That's always the choice.
"How do I control it? The mark?"
Kaelen glanced at him.
"You don't. The mark controls you. You just decide when to let it."
The nest appeared suddenly. A crack in the black rock. Wide enough for a person. Deep enough that the darkness inside looked solid.
Wick stopped twenty yards away.
"This is it."
Ember's stomach dropped.
"You're not coming in."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because if we all go in, we all die. Someone needs to stay out here."
"In case I don't come back out."
Wick's jaw tightened.
"You'll figure it out."
Ember looked at the crack. At the darkness waiting.
I'm going to die in there. That's how this ends.
But if he didn't go in, the trader would sell him. Or worse.
No choice. There's never a choice.
He unwrapped the cloth. The violet light spilled out.
The mark screamed.
*Hungry. Debt. Feed.*
"Here's hoping this works."
He stepped into the darkness.
The smell hit him first. Rot. Sulfur. Old death.
His eyes adjusted slowly. The walls were slick. Organic.
Movement ahead. Scuttling. Wet. Multiple sources.
They're here. All of them. Waiting.
The mark pulsed brighter. Casting violet light on the walls.
Bad idea. Now they can see me.
A hiss. Close.
Ember spun.
A scavenger. Three feet away. Maw opening.
No time to think.
The mark burned.
He shoved his hand forward. Reaching.
The mark pulled.
He felt it. The scavenger's hunger. That hollow void.
You want to eat? Then choke on this.
He pushed. Everything. The emptiness. The rot. All of it into the scavenger's hunger.
The creature froze.
Its maw trembled. Skin turned grey.
It collapsed. Rotted. Ash.
The mark pulsed.
Not pain. Not hunger.
*Satisfaction.*
Ember stared at his wrist.
"It liked that. It actually liked that."
Movement to the left. Another scavenger. Then another.
Five of them. Circling.
If I use it five times, what happens? Do I burn out? Does the mark consume me?
The scavengers lunged.
Ember didn't think. Just reached.
One. Two. Three.
They collapsed. Ash.
The mark pulsed again. That same feeling.
*Pleasure.*
"Stop. Stop enjoying this."
The veins spread. Pain shot up his arm. Into his shoulder. Cold fire crawling under his skin.
The emptiness hit him. Worse than before. Like something vital had been carved out.
Can't stop. More coming.
He stumbled forward. Deeper. More scavengers. Ten. Fifteen. Converging.
The mark screamed.
*Feed. More. All.*
"No. Not all. I'll die if—"
His hand moved on its own.
Reached forward. Pulled.
The scavengers collapsed. All of them. Rotted in seconds.
The mark blazed.
Not just satisfaction now.
*Joy.*
"You're enjoying this. You're actually—"
Pain exploded through his chest. The veins spread across his shoulder. Down his side. He could feel them. Moving. Growing. Taking.
He fell to his knees.
The emptiness was absolute. Like his entire core had been hollowed out. Like he wasn't a person anymore. Just a shell with something hungry inside.
"What am I feeding? What is this thing?"
Silence.
The nest was empty. Just ash. Just bodies rotting into nothing.
Ember looked at his arm.
The veins had reached his shoulder. Dark. Pulsing. And beneath the pain, beneath the emptiness—
The mark was *content.*
Like it had just eaten a good meal.
"I'm not a person anymore. I'm a feeding tube for this thing."
He tried to stand. His legs wouldn't hold him.
Outside, Wick's voice.
"Ember?"
He didn't answer. Couldn't.
Footsteps. Kaelen appeared in the entrance. Stared at him. At his arm. At the veins spreading across his shoulder.
"You used it all."
Her voice was quiet.
"I didn't have a choice. They were—"
"You always have a choice. You just burned through a week's worth of life in ten minutes."
Ember looked at his hand. The fingers trembled. Constant. Uncontrollable.
"It liked it, Kaelen. The mark. It enjoyed killing them."
She was quiet for a long moment.
"Of course it did. That's what it's for."
"What?"
"The mark doesn't just track kills. It feeds on them. The more you use it, the hungrier it gets. And the more it likes being used."
"So I'm not controlling it. It's controlling me."
"Now you're learning."
They carried him back to the Spires. Ember couldn't walk. The emptiness was so deep he couldn't feel his legs.
The trader was waiting at the entrance.
Saw the veins spreading across Ember's shoulder. Smiled.
"Well done."
Ember's voice came out broken.
"The nest is clear."
"I know. I can see it on you."
The trader leaned closer.
"Every kill leaves a mark. Every use takes something. That's how it works."
"You knew. You knew this would happen."
"Of course."
The trader gestured to the shelter.
"Three nights. As promised. Rest while you can."
"And then?"
"And then we see how far the veins have spread."
The trader's smile widened.
"And whether you still want to stop using it."
Ember lay in the shelter, staring at his arm in the darkness.
The veins pulsed. Slow. Steady.
And beneath his skin, he could feel it.
The mark.
Waiting.
Hungry.
*Patient.*