Page 235 of Carousel

I stop myself, my eyes widening. Because there is.

There is.

I hear Riss’ voice, like she’s standing by my shoulder.

You can’t even really fall asleep. You have to make sure they don’t get away from you.

I let Cosmer get away from me.

And he’s filling himself with something even my love can’t compete with.

Wake up, I will myself.

I do.

I’m in a cold sweat, as if I’ve had a fever.

I know without checking that Cosmer isn’t beside me. Of course he isn’t.

I’m in a dark room, on a virtually deserted ship, somewhere in the sky…

Alone in the world.

CHAPTER 45

The Osimidite Chamber

Idress quickly – and run.

The whole sprint to Deck 2, all I’m thinking about is how I would even find the Osimidite Chamber. I’ve heard so much about it, but it’s still something mythical to me.

I didn’t need to worry. To the side of the staircase is a hatch in the floor that must have been shut until now and unnoticeable in the dim corridor. Right now, the metal lid of the hatch has been slid out of the way, and all that’s left is a gaping hole. It could be a gateway to hell.

The sight of it makes me flinch.

Because it’s evidence that what I was praying so desperately wouldn’t be true, is.

Wasting no time, I start clambering down the rusting metal ladder inside it.

A musty scent fills my nostrils as I descend into the darkness, a faint humming in my ears.

I’d thought the brig and baths were hot on the deck above. But the temperature is excruciating down here. Like heading into a furnace, or like this really is hell. And the closer I get to the bottom of the ladder, the more I’m aware of a thin mist surrounding me. I realise, probably too late, that it must be escaped osimidite. Remembering Cosmer said inhaling these traces was how he got addicted, I pull my blouse over my nose.

Engineers must have been here until only recently – there’s a coat rack with satchels hanging up on it, and discarded cannisters, thermometers, tools. But it must be harder to guard the Chamber with so few engineers left. Cosmer walking in here and taking what he wanted would have been like a soldier getting served in the Mess Hall.

How long has he been down here, with absolutely no one to stop him?

I suddenly get a thought I hadn’t even contemplated until now. An awful, impossibly possible thought, as unbearable to bear as the temperature here.

What if he’s dead?

“Cosmer?” I yell, high-pitched.

No reply.

My heart rate accelerates. I’m breathing twice the speed I was, which is not a good thing. I look around for a mask to protect myself from the gas but find none.

I yell his name again – and again hear nothing in response.