Dante appraises my sc.r.a.ped knees. His head turns minutely and he casts a worried look over his shoulder before replying. "You should be prepared for what you find inside, then. One of the Watchers has fallen sick, and you know what that means."

The blood drains from Nim's face. "I understand."

"Very well." Dante turns his head away from the room and stares down the hall, pointedly avoiding the sight of me as if I'm nonexistent. "You do what you have to do." Then he trails away, disappearing around the corner.

I listen to his footsteps echo out until they dwindle down to nothing, and then Nim pulls me inside the Sick Room.

The place is well lit like the hallways of The House, with marble altars aligned in rows against the wall. Each one has a sheet draped over the top with a pillow at one end. Next to the altars are metal tables filled with medical supplies. Most of the beds are empty, but one to the left of me is occupied.

The person that rests there is a woman I recognize vaguely from my time roaming about The House. She is tall and lean, with the same platinum blonde hair and delicate features as me. Except this time, some of the strands sprouting from her head have turned a sharp shade of silver, and her eyes are hazed over with a milky white film. Her shoulder blades jut out from under her skin, stretching her paleness so that I can almost see the bones underneath. Her breaths come in ragged gasps as an Aider sits nearby and dabs at her forehead with a damp cloth.

Nim rushes to her, taking the sick woman's hand up into hers. "Oh, Dena! I wish they'd told me sooner!"

"Who is she?" I ask. The Aider and Nim both stare at me with a look of confusion, as if they've forgotten I'm there.

"She's a Watcher," Nim replies after a time, "and a good one at that. Now come, take a seat on one of the altars."

I do as I'm told, sitting down on one of the makeshift beds several lengths down from Dena. The Aider abandons his sick charge and comes to examine my knees as Nim stays behind and holds her friend's hand.

"That's a pretty big sc.r.a.pe you've got there," the Aider says, using a swab dipped in some kind of clear liquid that burns against my wound.

"Huh?" I say, distracted by the sight of Dena's skeletal frame lying nearby.

"How'd you come about this?" he says, louder this time.

I turn my head to him slowly, my eyes finally focusing on his concerned face. "I fell."

He blinks back at me, sighs, and wraps gauze around both my knees. "That should do it. Just don't get into too much trouble again, okay? You don't want to end up like Dena."

I glance over at the sick Watcher again. Her chest heaves against the sheet that wraps around her, and her frame shakes as if she's freezing cold. Her skin has become so transparent that I can see the silver running through the veins underneath.

Dena takes her sharpest breath yet, rattling her lungs in an attempt to draw in air. The Aider jumps to his feet and rushes to her side, reapplying the damp rag to her forehead and whispering soothingly into her ear. Nim stumbles away, coming to meet me at my bedside. I've never seen my mentor look so sad before, and the emotion does not fit her features. It's like a mask molded for someone else's face; it doesn't quite cling to the sculpt of her jaw or the hollow of her cheeks.

"I've never seen a Watcher so ill," I say, biting my lower lip.

"It's a rare thing for us," Nim replies. "It only happens once every several billion years. Suffice it to say, it's something we don't bounce back from."

"You mean-"

Nim nods. "She will die. And from the looks of her, sooner rather than later."

"But how?" I ask. "I didn't think members of The House could die."

"Only Watchers do. Once they're a.s.signed to their universe, their life force becomes linked to their charge. Their life hinges on the life of that world. If it begins to die, so do they."

"So Dena's universe?"

"I imagine it's in peril. One planet dying after the next. A horrible thing to witness, really, should you ever get the chance to watch it." Nim shudders. "I hate to think such terrible thoughts, but it's true."

I lean my head against her shoulder for support as I roll the notion around in my mind. "Have you seen it? A universe dying, that is?"

"Once," Nim replies. "I visited one of the other Watcher's charges after he fell ill. It was chaos, really. Exploding stars, meteors the size of The House itself, fire and rage and horror."

"And what happened to him? The Watcher who was in charge of the Universe, I mean."

"He was cast into the void, just like Dena will be, I imagine."

I shiver and cast a glance at Dena again. Her breathing has returned to a laborious rhythm as the Aider rubs her arm with his palm and straightens the sheet clinging to her thin form.

"You cast them into the void before they're dead?" I ask. "So you've never actually watched them die, then. They could still be out there, alive, and you wouldn't know-"

"Death is not something we watch," Nim interrupts me. "I learned that the day I visited that universe. It's a terrible thing to see and it's not part of our job. You need to understand that if you ever expect to be accepted as a true member of The House."

"Maybe I don't want to be. Maybe I want to be different, like Elli."

Nim lets a scoffing laugh bubble up her throat. "Elli! She's mocked throughout the ranks. Hiding behind her books and parchment, she rarely ever feels the weight of what we do here in The House. The true importance of our work."

I fiddle with the tape securing the gauze on my knees. "What would happen, then, if we didn't do what we do? If we just left the universes alone to take care of themselves?"

Nim taps me on the nose with one finger, like the question is coming from a preposterous child. "We've got better things to think about than that. Besides, it's not our job to ask questions. It's our job-"

"-to watch. I know."

I slide off the altar and walk out the door of the sick room, casting one last look back at Dena before I go. Her chest still heaves against the sheet, and as I leave she lolls her head to the side and stares at me.

"I can see everything now," she says, her voice as ragged as her breath. "You'll see it all soon, too. You're the one that finds him, after all. You're the one that brings this House down."

My skin goes numb upon hearing the words, and I freeze in place, but Nim pulls me into the hall and slams the door closed behind her before I can reply.

"Nonsensical ramblings made by a sick woman," Nim tells me when she sees my fright. She glances down the hall and spots Dante standing amongst a group of other House members. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

She heads in his direction and joins the conversation, listening fervently to Dante's words as he speaks. I inch closer until I'm within hearing range and bend my ear towards his words.

"-nothing we can do," he's saying, his head bowed and his hands clasped in front of him. "Dena's universe is on the verge of collapse. We've got to hold her rite of pa.s.sage tomorrow."

"Perhaps we could give her one more day," Nim pleads. "Let those who know her say goodbye before we send her off for good."

Dante shakes his head. "The Harbingers have done their job. Now it's time for us to do ours. Tomorrow, first thing, Dena will be cast into the void."

Nim casts a nervous glance over her shoulder, and I draw away into the shadows to avoid being seen. A million questions run through my mind. I've never heard the word Harbinger before, and yearn to know what it means-I make a mental note to ask Elli the first chance I get. And upon mention of the void, a morbid excitement kicks up in my gut. I've never seen the place before, but from the sound of it, tomorrow I might get to. Everyone in The House speaks of it like some terrifying place, but no one's ever bothered to tell me what, exactly, it is.

"Very well, then," Nim gives in. "But I trust all Watchers will be invited to pay our respects."

Dante sets a firm hand on her elbow. "They will be, as well as the Archivers, the Seers, the Aiders-everyone in The House. Dena deserves the honor."

Nim nods and steps away, pointing in my direction. "I better be on my way, then. There's much to prepare."

She walks over to me and steers me down the hall again, her pace twice as fast as normal, as if she's eager to distance us from whatever lay behind us. Dante, maybe? Did he intimidate her the way he does me? Or perhaps it's Dena that makes her rush. Even I felt a certain disgust being in the Sick Room next to her.

I wouldn't admit it to Nim, but part of me wants her gone-the same part of me that's worried that the longer she stays here, the more likely I'll catch whatever she suffers from, however implausible that may be.

Chapter Six.

I awake in my bedchamber to Nim shaking me. She holds a torch in one hand and when I jolt upright, she puts the other to her lips in a plea for silence. With one arm, she draws me up from my bed and into the hall.

The bright lighting there is gone, replaced by a darkness that only the torch penetrates. As we walk, others emerge from their rooms, each holding a torch of their own to light the way.

"It's time for Dena's pa.s.sing," Nim whispers.

I stop in my tracks, suddenly scared. Any urge I had earlier to see the void now turns into fear, and I can barely move my limbs forward. Nim takes my hand into hers and pulls me along joltingly.

"How do you know it's time?" I ask.

"Because Dante says so."

"And why does he get to choose when she dies?"

Nim doesn't answer, and instead just leads me on, shushing me as more members of The House filter out of their rooms and proceed down the darkened hall. My heart doesn't unclench until I see Elli up ahead. I wave to her and she replies with a small smile and a nod of her head. I point silently in her direction to Nim, who releases my hand and lets me flock to her.

"Sad times, Amara," Elli says. "Another one of you Watchers taken from us. If only you'd been an Archiver, you could've escaped the same fate."

"I'll worry about that in several billion years," I reply.

Elli wraps an arm around my shoulders and holds her torch out before her, leading us farther into the bowels of The House. Her warmth comforts me in a way Nim's never will. My mentor is harsh and stoic, but Elli is lighthearted and calming. I'm uncertain how she can get away with being so different without getting threatened with the void, but somehow she manages, and I am glad for it.

The members ama.s.sing in the halls soon form a procession, which Elli and I become the front of. Dante eventually makes his way forward as leader and begins to hum, low and melancholy, as he walks. The other members of The House join in, and I try to mimic the crowd, but no sound leaves my lips.

"Don't be frightened, little mouse," Elli tells me, and I realize I'm shaking under her arm.

We weave our way past the Watch Room and the Archives Room, deeper into the darkness, until we reach the Sick Room. From out of the chamber Dena emerges. She lies prostrate on a wooden gurney, two Aiders hefting the weight of her on either end. They come to Dante's side and his humming stops, signaling everyone else to taper off.

Dante walks on as Dena writhes on the stretcher next to him. Every time someone gets too close she reaches out an arm, trying to grab them, but her grip is too weak to latch onto anything. I shrink behind Elli, not wanting to feel Dena's frail fingers on my skin.

Eventually we come to a lobby cut out of the marble. It is a vast s.p.a.ce with high ceilings, and besides the hall we arrive at it through, only one more pa.s.sageway juts off of it. The corridor is short and dark, with a single wooden door at the far end.

The crowd forms a semicircle in the lobby, leaving the center and a path to the short hallway open. Dante comes to stand in the middle, motioning for the Aiders to bring Dena out before him.

"It's a sad time," Dante says. "We're losing a member of The House. Dena, Watcher, friend, valued member of The House. She's dying, and there's nothing we can do to stop it."

"Not that he's ever tried," Elli scoffs under her breath.

Dante reaches into the pocket of his white linen pants and withdraws an orb. He holds his palm out flat, letting the crowd stare into its depths. I gasp at what roils inside.

The universe held within the crystal ball is not like mine. The stars I see inside shine weakly. The pitch-blackness of night has turned a haunting red as planets and galaxies implode before my eyes. It is beautiful, but at the same time haunting, and as I watch on Elli's arm tightens around my shoulder.

"A dying universe means a dying Watcher," Dante continues. "As Dena's world breathes its last breath, so does she. I offer you all a chance now. A chance to say goodbye to one of our most treasured members."

The crowd surges forward, forming a line that pa.s.ses by Dena's gurney. The shoulders jostling around me shuffle me into the course along with Elli, and together we inch closer to the dying woman.

"She said something to me earlier," I whisper.

"Where? What did she say?" Elli asks.

"I was in the Sick Room, and she told me-told me she can see everything. And then she said I'll bring down The House, whatever that means."

Elli doesn't try to comfort me like Nim. Instead she casts me a knowing look and says, "I've read a lot during my time as an Archiver, some of which talks about death. Some of the books say when House members get close to it, we see more than just the universes we watch over. We see them all-everything-s.p.a.ce and time all at once. Maybe Dena saw something in all that chaos about you. Maybe you're special."

I want to respond-to tell her I'm not special, that I'm just a Watcher and the idea of The House being brought down doesn't sound like a good thing-but just then I'm shuffled forward in front of Dena.

The woman stares at me through milky eyes and wraps a hand loosely around my wrist. Her breathing is even more ragged than when I saw her in the Sick Room, and her expression is tight with fear. She opens her mouth to speak, but only a feeble squeak comes out. She doesn't have to say anything for me to know what she's trying to put into words: "Help me, please. Don't let me go."

I pull my arm away and lean into Elli, who sets her hand on Dena's shoulder and coos to her in a soothing tone. "It's alright now, dear. It'll be over soon."

My heart thumps hard against my ribcage as Dena opens her mouth wider in a silent scream. She emits a hard breath, baring her teeth, and her tongue is coated in silver blood.

Elli shoves me forward, pushing me past the gurney and into Dante, who stands at Dena's head. He shakes people's hands as they pa.s.s, and when I come to stand in front of him, he regards me with cold eyes.

"It's natural, Amara. It's the life of a Watcher," he says, his voice edged in false comfort. His words do little to soothe me, and only make me imagine my own form lying on a gurney like Dena. I don't want to die, not like that-screaming in silence, with no one to hear my plea.

I make my way back into the semicircle around the perimeter of the lobby and wait for the procession to end.

"It'll be over soon," Elli promises. She's about to say more but Nim comes to stand on her other side, and one harsh glare from my mentor cuts off her words.

"Here we witness the end," Dante says once everyone has returned to their places in the audience. He holds up Dena's...o...b..as the last of the stars inside the universe begin to die. Dena's struggling breath comes in tandem with the implosion of her world.

Dante stares down at the sickly woman now, a sour-sweet look of pity etched into his face as he adds, "Let us look upon Dena's final moment and grant her mercy."

The Aiders begin a slow procession toward the short hall with the single door at the end. Dante leads them at the head of the gurney, and as he walks the woman grasps at the back of his shirt. The fabric slips uselessly through her fingers, and Dante pretends not to feel her pleas.

At the end of the hall he reaches for the handle, prying the door open wide. The whole room fills with a deafening silence, so horrible and thick my ears begin to ring and my skin goes numb. Elli pulls me in close to her breast as I stare across the threshold, my eyes open wide with horror.

The void rests on the other side, and it's nothing like what I imagined. Beyond the door is only darkness-not the kind that spreads across my universe, littered with stars and galaxies and planets, but a pitch black that is empty and soundless.

I can feel the vast beyond pull at me, willing my feet to slide forth so that I fall through the hole and into the nothingness on the other side. I plant my sandals hard against the marble, turning my face into Elli's shoulder and sobbing. The noise of my cry is lost in the hush of the void.

Dante moves away from the door and the Aiders set Dena's gurney next to the threshold. She screams silently again, wind milling her arms and staring out at us with blank eyes. Together, the Aiders lift her from the stretcher and stand her up in front of the void, inching her ever closer to the blackness.

Dena struggles, but she is too weak to escape. The Aiders push against her back with firm hands and her toes go over the edge of the threshold. She can't balance against the void's sucking energy and she tips over into the darkness.

She doesn't just float away into the beyond like I think she will. Instead she becomes part of the darkness, blinking out like a light turned off, and in that moment she is gone as if she never existed at all.

Dante slams the door shut, and sound whooshes back into the lobby. I can hear people's stifled sobs and guilt-ridden whispers. Elli's breath comes in gurgles, like she is struggling to hold back tears herself. Nim stands beside her, her arms folded and her face as blank as stone. My mentor was always skilled at hiding her emotions.