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  They continued in silence for a while as Lone Star led them deeper into the Gloom. Gage didn’t bother explaining that the reason he had notes on the Ranger’s energy signature to begin with was because he’d been helping with Cloak’s attack on Justice Tower. Gage had hoped that their current mission might balance that fact out in some way.

  “It’s so cold here,” Amp said. “How can you stand it?”

  “I guess you get used to it,” Lone Star said. “After a while, you forget you’re supposed to feel cold.”

  They came upon a clearly defined road that led between two huge, gate-like structures of darkness crafted to look like wrought iron. Inside was something of a ghost town—rows of half-built structures made of shadows, and occasionally doors and glass from the real world. A little village Phantom had created at some time or another and then abandoned.

  “When we first got here, we stayed in a cave for a while, until Phantom came,” Lone Star said. “After that, we started exploring. We made for the big castle you probably saw, but it’s only accessible by a crumbling bridge that’s covered in strange, thorny tendrils. We didn’t even bother trying to cross it. We happened upon this place by chance.”

  He led them to the sturdiest-looking building. It was a simple two-story design, symmetrical with four shuttered windows and a real, wooden front door. The walls were made up of the same oily shadows that Phantom controlled, only these had been carved to resemble bricks.

  “Another playground from when Phantom was a kid?” Amp asked.

  “Possibly,” Lone Star said. “But she hasn’t been back in at least a decade.”

  “How do you know?”

  Lone Star hesitated at the door. He turned to the two boys.

  “Wait here for a minute,” he said. When Amp looked anxious, the man’s ears moved back slightly, giving his face a commanding appearance. “I’ll only be a moment.”

  Amp nodded, stepping back. Lone Star disappeared into the house.

  There was noise from inside, but it was muffled. Gage looked at Amp, trying to decode his expression.

  Amp’s eyebrows knit together. “I can hear them. Lone Star. Lux. But there’s something else. There are other people in there, but their voices are . . . strange. I can’t make out their words.” He glanced at his watch. “We’re fifteen minutes in.”

  “We need to head back,” Gage said. “By the time we reach the portal again we’ll have been in here for half an hour. I don’t want to risk staying in longer than that if we don’t have to.”

  Lone Star appeared again, but closed the door behind him.

  “We have to go,” Gage insisted.

  “Just one moment,” the man said. “Amp, there’s something you should know. There’s something about this place—”

  “They’re here, aren’t they?” Amp asked. “The others. The ones who fell to the gun at Victory Park.”

  “It’s not—”

  “My parents are in there,” Amp said.

  Lone Star lowered his eyes. He paused before speaking again.

  “In a way, yes.”

  Amp pushed past the Ranger and swung open the door.

  The inside was one big, dark room. Fortunately, Phantom had built a huge fireplace into one wall, where tall flames burned pale silver, casting a flickering light across the house. Lux stood near the fire, her mouth hanging open and eyes wide with happiness.

  “Amp!” Lux shouted, running to him. She wore a uniform similar to Lone Star’s, but without a cape and with a gold sash around her waist. Her light green eyes were encased in the same dark circles Lone Star had developed since his time in the Gloom. Her once-shimmering hair was now a dull, whitish blond that fell just below her shoulders. Amp gave her a half embrace. His eyes were focused elsewhere, and Lux turned to follow his gaze.

  Sitting around the room on strange benches and stumps made of shadows were four things that Amp might not have registered as being human were it not for the outdated Rangers of Justice uniforms that they wore—and even those were mostly in tatters. They were little more than skeletons, their skin gray and stretched thin over the bones, eyes sunken in and dark. A man was missing his right hand and had a bandage tied across his face, obscuring one eye. A woman had what looked to be opera glasses hanging from her neck and a swath of cloth tied around her mouth. Based on the way the fabric hung, her jaw must have been missing.

  The other two figures stood close together. The shorter of the pair was a woman who stared at Amp with as expressive a look as her face could muster. The man was taller, with a sturdy frame. He stared at Amp, and then lowered his eyes to the floor. He looked embarrassed, or ashamed. Under the circumstances, it was difficult to tell which, exactly.

  “Mom?” Amp whispered, stepping toward them. “Dad?”

  He started to say more, but his words caught in his throat. His knees shook.

  The Sentry and the Guardian. His mother and father.

  “They can’t speak,” Lux said quietly. “They can make sounds but not form words. There’s something about this place. It drains the life out of you slowly, but at the same time keeps you preserved. It’s a sort of living . . .” She struggled for the right word.

  “Purgatory,” Gage said from the doorway. The word fell out of his mouth before he could stop it.

  “Like I said,” Lone Star murmured grimly. “I thought we were dead.”

  “I never dreamed you’d still be alive,” Amp said quietly, moving toward the two skeletal figures.

  “They’re so proud of you, Amp,” Lux said. “We’ve told them all about the leader you’ve become.”

  “It’s been ten years,” Amp said quietly, his eyes shifting between his parents. “I was only four the last time I saw you. I know your faces more from pictures and statues than I do my memories.”

  Amp’s mother stared back at him. She held out a hand. For a moment, Amp stood there, staring down at it, the only movement in the room the soft licking of the flames against the shadowy walls. Then he was on both of them, his arms wrapped around their fragile frames, face buried in what remained of his mother’s dark hair.

  Lone Star turned to Lux, trying his best to give Amp and his family some privacy. “Lux, this is Gage. He’s the one who figured out how to get in here.”

  Gage held out his hand.

  “Is it true?” Lux asked. “You can get us back to the real world?”

  “Yes. But we have to hurry. In fact, we should really be—”

  She cut him off with a quick hug. Gage stood motionless, finally using one hand to pat her on the back.

  “Of course,” she said. “But we have to give them a moment. What about our powers? Will they come back? Do you know?”

  “I don’t have powers myself, but Amp and I have spent some time in this realm. His powers always seem to bounce back once we’re in the real world.”

  “Gage, this is Storm Lad and Aria,” Lone Star said, gesturing to the two seated figures. They nodded to him but made no movement to stand.

  “There were others who fell to the Umbra Gun that day,” Gage said. “Are they here, too?”

  “They were,” Lone Star said. “But it became too much for them. This place took too much of them, and they just became husks. By the time we got here, almost everyone was gone.”

  “I’m sure you’re feeling it already,” Lux said, picking up on Lone Star’s thought. She ran her fingers through her hair. “This place sucks the energy out of you. If you stop fighting it, you’re done for.”

  “And there’s something else, too,” Lone Star said. “A monster in the shadows. Something like the old Rangers here have never seen. When we first found this house, there wasn’t any danger aside from giving up on life or Phantom showing up to take you away. But now something’s hunting us. It killed Ms. Light. And, well, you can see that Storm Lad and Aria have had run-ins with it as well.”

  “A monster?” Gage asked. “What kind of monster?”

  “I don’t know. It seems to be hunting purely
for sport, though, not for food. None of us have seen it well enough. It sticks to the shadows. I was trying to track it when you stumbled upon me.”

  “We’re leaving,” Amp said, taking a step back from his parents. His voice was wobbly. “We’re going back to the real world. All of us.”

  “I . . . don’t know if that’s wise,” Gage said.

  Amp whipped his head around, staring at the young inventor.

  “Excuse me?”

  “In this state, I don’t think it would be . . . safe . . . to bring the old Rangers back into the normal world,” Gage said, choosing his words very carefully. “Their bodies have been through quite a bit of trauma. After ten years, I—I don’t know that they would survive the transition, Amp.”

  Amp started to take a few steps toward Gage but was stopped by a hand that grabbed his forearm. The fingers were thin and bony, but the grip was strong. His father’s. The Guardian looked down at his son long and hard before shaking his head.

  “No,” Amp said. “I won’t leave you here alone. You can’t ask me to do that.”

  Amp’s father made a few signs to Lux, then wrapped one thin arm around Amp’s mother.

  “Not alone,” Lux spoke softly. “He says he’s not alone.”

  Amp’s body began to shake, as if he was holding in a great sonic blast that he was ready to loose. Instead, tears began to stream down his cheeks. He took a deep breath and wiped his face.

  The Guardian stepped forward and made a few gestures to Storm Lad and Aria. There seemed to be some sort of disagreement among them. A strange bellow escaped from somewhere within the Guardian’s throat, like the sound of a rusted machine trying to start. He pounded his fist on the right side of his chest, over his heart, where there was a golden starburst on the old Ranger uniforms. Slowly, the two seated Rangers stood, their bones creaking.

  “We should go now,” Lux said. “They’ll travel with us to this portal you have. They’ll make sure we get there safely.”

  They made their way back through the gates, over the shadowy hills and dark wasteland of the Gloom, with relative ease. Once Amp’s parents and the older Rangers were out of the house, they moved with surprising agility and speed. Gage led the way, his device locked on to the beacon they’d left when they arrived. When they got to the narrow path carved between cliffs, the inventor paused. The road ahead looked like an impossibly black scar on an already terrifying landscape—the kind of route people took and never returned from.

  “Is there another way?” Gage asked. “We went through here earlier and it didn’t feel like the safest route.”

  “I understand your concern,” Lone Star said. “But it’s the fastest. We could travel around and over the mountains, but that’ll triple our time.”

  “We’ll hurry through,” Amp said, glancing at his watch. They’d be lucky if they made it back on time already. Even if they didn’t tire out, Alex’s team was counting on them to be as fast as possible. “We can’t afford to take any longer. Who knows what’s going on with the others at the museum?” He took a moment to glance at Zip, who flitted her wings on his shoulder. If something had gone wrong, Bug had given them no sign about it.

  In the narrow crevice between the mountains, they had to walk single file half the time. Again, the darkness seemed to close in on them. Amp and Gage lowered their goggles, but even they had trouble finding light in the pass. In the worst moments, there was nothing but shadow, and they bumped into one another and the sides of the cliffs. No one spoke. The only sounds were their shuffling and the ragged whistle that wheezed from the mouths of the decrepit old Rangers.

  Soon they were almost to the end, where their way home waited at the top of a cliff. Amp took his mother’s hand. She squeezed his in return.

  “Wait,” Lux said, stopping the others. She was toward the end of the line. “Where’s Aria? She was right behind me.”

  They turned to look for her, but there was only the black void of the pass. Then a metallic noise—the same one Gage and Amp had heard earlier—and something flying through the air, shiny and trailing a chain. The object landed on the ground at Amp’s feet. A pair of broken opera glasses.

  Somewhere in the darkness there was laughter.

  “Run!” Lone Star shouted.

  They barreled through the crevice, half tripping over one another on the way out. Once in the clearing, they ran across the wastelands and up a sloping mound of shadow that ended in a steep cliff, dropping off into a sea of darkness. And at the very top of the cliff, a light began to shine. Just a pinprick at first, and then suddenly a diamond portal looking out onto the roof of the Rook. Bug was there, as was Misty, their silhouettes distorted, like they were being seen through a veil of water.

  Behind them, there came more laughter. Gage and Amp turned to see a figure running out of the shadows of the mountain path. They recognized him immediately.

  Ghost.

  “Oh no,” Amp whispered.

  “He’s with Cloak,” Gage shouted. “Everyone, get through the portal. Now!”

  Ghost moved with a quickness that shouldn’t have been possible. His skin was even paler than the last time Gage had faced off against him—when the inventor had turned Ghost’s powers against the Omega and banished him to the Gloom. His silver, clawed glove shone as it caught the light from the portal. The metallic sound they’d heard earlier suddenly made sense. Lone Star swung his spear at Ghost, who caught it, and with one squeeze splintered the wood into hundreds of pieces. He kicked the Ranger, sending him soaring backward. Lone Star would have tumbled off the edge of the cliff and into the abyss had Amp not managed to stop him.

  Ghost locked eyes with Gage.

  “You,” he seethed. “You’re the reason I’m here. That weapon you had put me in this prison.”

  “I guess it hasn’t been Phantom’s top priority to break you out of here,” Gage said. He kept one eye on the others, trying to distract Ghost long enough for them to make their exit.

  “The darkness of the Gloom has made me so much stronger.” His gray lips spread over sharp white teeth. “You’ve only made me more powerful.”

  Ghost lunged at Gage, his clawed hand outstretched. Storm Lad intercepted the attack at the last moment, pushing the young inventor up and back, toward the portal. In a flash, Amp’s father was there, too, trying to restrain the Omega.

  Lux started after them, but Gage grabbed her arm.

  “Come on,” he shouted. “Now’s our chance. We have to go while he’s occupied.”

  Lux hesitated, but nodded, and the two of them ran through the portal.

  “Stop!” Lone Star shouted, taking a step toward Ghost. “We’ve done nothing to you.”

  “You idiots,” Ghost said, laughing. He sent the Guardian tumbling backward with an elbow to the chest. In one swift move, Ghost was holding Storm Lad over the edge of the cliff by his neck. “You think I care what happens to any of you? I just want out. Why do you think I let you get this far? Phantom’s kept me in here long enough. I’ve learned my lesson. I’m ready to take on the real world.”

  Ghost released his grip. Storm Lad plummeted into the darkness far below, a terrifying howl escaping his lips.

  “No!” Amp shouted.

  Amp’s father tackled Ghost. Amp started toward them, but his mother blocked his path. She gave him a long look, and then raised one hand to the starburst on her chest. After a pause, she moved her fingers to her son, pressing down on the space above his heart.

  “Amp!” Lone Star started toward the portal as the Guardian wrestled with Ghost. “Go. Now. That’s an order.”

  “Good-bye,” Amp said softly, afraid that any hint of power in his voice might force his mother away from him.

  The Sentry mouthed a few words to her son. Then she pushed him with a surprising amount of strength, sending him falling through the portal.

  The sun was blinding as Amp spilled out onto the roof of the Rook. His mind was spinning. Someone was at his side, pulling him to his feet. He tried to
get his bearings, but everyone was yelling at once. He finally focused enough to see Bug tapping away at the electronic screen. Zip flew in quick, frantic-looking circles above his head.

  Lone Star tumbled out of the portal.

  “Close it,” he choked. “He’s right behind me.”

  They watched in horror as Ghost’s clawed hand emerged from the rift between worlds.

  “Finally,” Ghost said as his head came into view, his voice a rasp. He was halfway out of the gateway as it began to close around him, one foot on the ground. Amp focused and tried to loose a sonic blast at the Omega, but it was no use. His powers hadn’t fully returned yet.

  And then, just before Ghost’s body was completely in the real world, he stopped and jerked back. A thin gray hand latched on to one of his biceps, then another on his neck, and an entire arm around his waist.

  “NO!” Ghost screamed as his body was pulled back into the Gloom. “I won’t—”

  But whatever he shouted was cut off as the portal melted away, leaving nothing but bricks in its place. Amp ran forward, but his hand met with solid wall. He leaned his head against it. His breathing was fast and deep.

  “Was that Ghost?” Misty asked. Bug was on his feet beside her. The light from his eyes faded as Zip alighted on his shoulder.

  “Yes,” Gage said, staring at Amp.

  “So, whose arms were those that pulled him back in?”

  “Heroes from another time,” Gage said as he shoved the Gloom Key into a small bag.

  Lone Star stared into the sun, his arms out, palms up, as if absorbing its energy. Lux stood near him, in a similar pose.

  “The sun,” she said quietly. “I never thought I’d feel it on my skin again.”

  “How are you?” Gage asked.

  “Tired,” Lone Star said.

  “Your powers, though. What about them?”

  “I . . . I can’t feel them,” Lone Star said. He stared down at his hands.

  He looked over to Lux. Before they’d been in the Gloom, her hair had always shone as if it were made of moonlight, silvery strands of pure brilliance. Now it was simply a dull, near-white color. She shook her head.