The second wound screamed.
Not aloud. Inside Lena's skull. A frequency she'd never heard before. Higher than the void. Sharper than any hunger. It cut through her consciousness like a blade.
She fell to her knees in the garden.
Lyra was beside her instantly. "Lena!"
"The second wound. It's waking. Faster than we expected."
"How far?"
"Close. Too close. It's in the Divide. Beneath the old ruins."
---
The council assembled within the hour.
Mira stood at the head. She was forty now, battle-hardened, her father's fire in her eyes.
"Describe the wound. What does it feel like?"
Lena pressed her palms against her temples. "It's angry. Not hungry like the void. Angry. It was wounded by violence. It wants revenge."
"Revenge on what?"
"On everything. On existence itself."
Lyra stepped
