Rick slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Then we have three days to figure out a plan," Rick said quietly. His voice was tired, but it was not defeated. He looked around the dark room. The Underground Nurses had lit a few small oil lanterns. The warm orange light flickered over the frightened faces of the refugees. They were shivering. They were holding each other. The physical war was paused. But the emotional war was just beginning. The sound of the frozen monsters beating against the heavy door never stopped. It was a slow, steady, terrifying rhythm. It sounded like a giant, dead heartbeat. It drove the people in the bunker crazy. They covered their ears. They cried in the dark. Rick sat in the corner of the bunker. He leaned against the cold metal wall. He drank a small cup of clean water. He was trying to rest his body. He needed his magical battery to recharge, but without the sunlight or the natural earth, the magic came back very, very slowly. Luna walked ov

Ash walked up. The little girl with no shadow stood next to Luna. Ash looked at Rick. She looked at the little boy. "The Doctor is talking to him," Ash whispered to Luna. "He isn't saying anything, Ash," Luna sighed, wiping a tear from her cold cheek. "He is talking with his quiet," Ash explained softly. Her giant black eyes saw the truth. "The boy's mind is very loud. It is full of screaming monsters. The Doctor is giving the boy a quiet room to sit in. The boy is listening to the quiet."Luna looked at Rick. She saw the absolute, unbroken focus in his tired brown eyes. He was pouring every single ounce of his compassion into the space between them. Luna set the cup of water down on the floor next to Rick. "I love you, you stubborn fool," Luna whispered. She kissed his cold cheek, and walked away to help Brin bandage a scraped knee. Rick closed his eyes again. He breathed slowly. He breathed deeply. He made sure the sound of his breathing was loud enough for the boy to hear. Hou

The heavy, shattered titanium door lay in pieces on the concrete floor. The cold wind blew down the dark stairs. It brought the smell of old ice, rotting meat, and absolute death. Rick stood at the bottom of the stairs. He held his wooden staff in his right hand. The green light at the tip burned like a tiny, brilliant sun. He had just gotten his magic back. His heart beat with a strong, fierce, human rhythm. In front of him stood the Frozen General. The monster was ten feet tall. It wore ancient, rusted iron armor. The armor was covered in thick, heavy blue ice. The General’s skin was pale and dead. Its eyes glowed with the freezing, toxic white magic of the Emperor of Rot. Behind the General, hundreds of frozen soldiers marched down the stairs. Their heavy ice boots hit the stone. "Stay back!" Rick shouted to the refugees behind him. "Do not touch the ice!"Luna, Brin, Jace, and Isaac formed a protective wall in front of the frightened people. Ash, the little girl with no shad

Rick jumped up from the ash. He ran toward the sound. He ignored the heat burning his skin. He found a young woman lying in the dirt near a burning house. Her name was Mira. She had been his first real patient outside of Riverbend. She was a kind, sweet farmer who had given him a hot meal when he was a starving wanderer. Now, Mira was dying. A heavy wooden beam from the burning house had fallen and crushed her lower body. She was coughing up dark red blood. Rick fell to his knees beside her. He frantically pushed his bare hands onto her chest. "I am here, Mira!" Rick shouted over the roaring fire. "I am going to heal you! Earth Pulse! Heal!"Rick pushed his magic into her. But nothing happened. Rick looked at his hands. They were not glowing green. They were completely dark. They were empty. "Why isn't it working?!" Rick panicked. He tried again. "Heal! Please, heal!"He had no magic. In this memory, he was just a helpless boy. Mira looked up at him. Her eyes were dull and cloudy

"You are my boy," Lila’s voice echoed through the blue void. It was louder this time. It felt like a warm hand grabbing him in the dark. Rick stopped sinking. He looked around. In the far distance of the endless blue room, a tiny, warm, orange light appeared. It was a lantern. It was the clumsy, poorly carved wooden lantern that Lila had made when she was a ten-year-old girl. It was the lantern she had put in the window every single night to guide him home. The orange light was messy. It flickered in the wind. But it was incredibly, beautifully real. "I know you are hurting, Ricky," Lila’s voice flowed from the orange lantern. "I know the world gave you too many heavy bags to carry. I know you feel guilty."Rick stared at the warm orange light. He felt a sharp, painful ache in his chest. But it was not the pain of cold ice. It was the pain of a thawing heart. "She remembers the blood," Rick wept softly. "She remembers the people I failed.""You did not fail them," Lila’s voice d