Page 240

Fear slammed into her, sharp and cold, rooting her to the spot. Her hand twitched toward her dagger—but she couldn’t move. Her throat felt tight, breath shallow, the weight of the darkness pushing harder now.

“Steady hand, calm heart,”the Queen’s warning echoed in her mind.

Taly willed steel into her spine. With a steady hand, she yanked the dagger free and snarled, “Let’s do this, you ugly sack of shit.”

The grimble lunged with a growl. Hands—cold and slick—snatched at her. She twisted, slamming her elbow into its chest. It flinched back. Another hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her with it. She swung her blade, steel biting deep into its side.

Black ichor oozed from the wound, but the grimble didn’t recoil. Its grip only tightened. Cold, slick fingers dug into her wrist, into her shoulder.

“No—” Taly kicked hard, twisting the blade, but the hands didn’t loosen.

She shoved again, but another hand latched behind her knee, jerking hard. They tumbled, tangled together, and hit the black with a soundless crash.

The surface cracked—then shattered beneath them.

For a beat, there was nothing but the plunge—cold and suffocating, dragging her down.

She twisted. Kicked. But the grimble held fast, and together they spiraled into the dark.

From within it, the Queen’s voice echoed—her parting words, one final caution after instructing Taly on how to kill a dream spinner.

“I do not advise this. I’ve seen better than you fail.”

The shadow curled around his hand, slick and twitching. “Why didn’t you want me to have this power?” Skye asked.

Cori was still sitting on the workbench beside him, her fingers tapping away on that strange human device. She didn’t stop, didn’t look at him right away.

“Because it’s too big a risk for something that ultimately won’t matter,” she finally said.

“What does that mean?”

“Time is a delicate balance.”

“Stop giving me riddles,” he snapped.

Her gaze fixed on his. “It’s not a riddle. It’s the hard reality of the situation. I’m not the only one with my fingers in the pudding right now. Every moment of this timeline has been perfectly planned, perfectly timed, and is being monitored. Youmake big changes, you get big ripples, and big ripples are easy to see. And then it takes something even bigger to cover it up.”

Darkness curled high around his wrist, flickering. “Wait… what do you mean,cover it up?”

The look she gave him was almost pitying. “Did you really think you could completely derail time without consequences?”

His heart kicked hard in his chest. The shadow jumped. “What did you do?” he whispered.

“What I had to do to fix it,” she said matter-of-factly. “I made a bigger ripple for Azura to focus on.”

Skye had a sinking feeling he knew what that ripple was. “The grimble.”

To his growing horror, she only said, “Yes,” as her fingers returned to tapping. “It took a while to find one that was still clinging to life. I was afraid it was going to be too weak to get in. Azura trained me too well to leave anything unguarded. Thankfully, giving it a memory—a familiar shape—did the trick. Maybe next time, think twice before deciding I’m doing this solely for shits and giggles. Believe it or not, I might actually know what I’m talking abo—ah.”

With a stifled cry, Cori abruptly folded over, clutching her hand close.

“What’s happening?” Skye demanded. This wasn’t his Taly, but the sight of her in pain sparked the same instinct.

Carefully, she uncurled her hand. The skin was smooth—unbroken—but for a moment, the mask slipped, and she looked… worried.

“It’s nothing,” she said, flexing her fingers. “It’s just the Weave—ah!” She doubled over, gasping for breath. “Fuck! You never get used to that.”

“Cori, I swear to the damned Shards, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on—”