Kev found his name fairly easily, Archer noticed. Unfortunately, Kev’s vial was even farther from the stairs than Archer’s had been. In the glow of the black lights, the dusty lid looked dull, the blood within like live nothingness. Kev stopped in front of the shelf and just stared at it.
“How do you get it out of there and back in you?” asked Archer, but he already knew.
“Drink it,” said Kev. He reached a hand toward the vial, made a motion as though to caress it. “I wonder…how it is to welcome your own soul back into you.”
“We’d better hope it’s manageable because we’re screwed if you start tripping.”
“Yeah,” said Kev. Still he stared at the vial.
“You ready?” Archer didn’t want to push, but he didn’t want to be standing here forever either. “The moment you take it down, we have to
