The Old Opera House was a rotting skeleton of marble and velvet, sinking slowly into the muck of the Sump.
Half of the great dome had collapsed decades ago, leaving the auditorium open to the toxic sky.
The acid rain had eaten away the murals, leaving only weeping streaks of paint that looked like bruises on the walls.
Zane stood on the remnants of the balcony, looking down into the pit of the orchestra section.
The cold energy from Silas’s soul hummed in his veins.
It made his vision sharp, crystalline, and devoid of warmth.
He didn't feel the humidity or the stink of the Sump.
He only felt the geometry of the ruin.
"He's here," Zane stated, his voice devoid of inflection.
Wren shivered beside him.
She pulled her rags tighter, eyeing Zane warily.
"You're freezing, Stain," s
