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Taly groaned, blinking back the sting of dust and mortar hazing the air. Someone was leaning over her. The same someone who had thrown her out of the way. Shielded her from the explosion.

And then a familiar voice said, “You’d be surprised what humans are capable of given the right nutrition and training. And this human has had the best of both. I’d be careful who I challenge to a footrace, Markham.”

For long moments, Taly stared—stared and stared. Until Eula finally gripped her by the shoulders and pulled her up to sit.

Her head spun at the sudden movement. One hand fumbled for the ground, relieved to find it wasn’t tilting out from under her anymore.

Concern tightened Eula’s features. “C’mon kid,” she muttered, reaching around to the back of Taly’s head, fingers searching. “You’re starting to worry me. Say something. I know your skull’s harder than that.”

“I think I can hear colors,” Taly murmured. And yellow was currently screaming in her left ear. “Is that normal?”

Eula breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t worry. It’ll pass.”

“Hey, Valdaerys,” a man called out.

Eula moved smoothly and swiftly, unfastening her cloak and settling it on Taly’s shoulders, pulling the hood low. “Eyes on the wall, Markham,” she barked back.

Behind them, the wall was a smoking ruin. A massive chunk had been blasted away, leaving behind a jagged crater. Cracks split outward from the point of impact, deep fissures cutting through the stone. Light pulsed faintly within them—green, red, and blue—flickering like dying embers as the aether from the enchantments bled into the air, fading fast.

Eula turned back to Taly, muttering under her breath, “I swear, I take my eyes off you for one Shards-forsaken minute, and suddenly you’re running all over town. You’d better have the best damn story I’ve ever heard.” Sliding a vial from her belt, she uncorked the top, dabbing a good amount of a thick, dark liquid on two fingers.

Taly’s nose crinkled at the smell—like metal and salt. Eula reached for her face, but she flinched away.

With a growl, Eula snatched her chin, looking her dead in the eye. “Your glamour,” she said low enough that only the two of them could hear, “is flickering.”

Taly’s stomach dropped. Then she realized what it was—that dark, cold liquid that Eula began smearing on her face, her neck, her clothes.

Human blood.

Because without the glamour, the scent was all wrong.

“What are you doing here?” Taly asked. “Also, why do you have human blood?”

“I always carry some,” Eula said, corking the vial and sliding it back onto her belt.

“Why?”

Eula fixed her with a look.Oh. For this—situations like it. It was a weird yet incredibly touching backup plan that sent an unexpected surge of warmth through her.

“You’re a good friend,” Taly sniffled, blinking back tears. “Sorry, I think the concussion is making me emotional.”

Also, fading adrenaline and a rapidly deflating sense of purpose that left her shaking.

Eula only sighed and went on, “I was on duty at the town hall when we began getting reports of tears in the Veil appearing all over town. And somehow, in my gut, I justknewyou were involved. We were evacuating the town hall when Skye radioed over on the comms and told us where you were heading. The words‘stupid, reckless fool’may have been thrown around—by more than one person. It seems, however, I got here first.”

Eula dragged Taly to her feet, making sure she’d found her balance before barking over her shoulder, “Markham? Report.”

The light-haired Gate Watcher ducked his head. The shadow crystals slotted into his wrist guards flashed in the light of the streetlamps as he pointed up and down the wall. “The protection wards are down for a mile in either direction.”

“Harpy’s balls,” Eula cursed under her breath. Her eyes landed on Taly. “Stay here,” she ordered before marching towards the mages crowding around the wall.

Taly’s head was spinning again. She leaned against a nearby building. Breathing in and out, slow and deep, she assessed her body.

Her heart was still racing with no signs of slowing down, and every part of her hurt—a bone-deep ache she hadn’t noticed until now. She was shivering in the chill of the night. Sweating despite the cold still coming off the wall.

It burned, that cold. It had burned going through the portals. It still burned, a phantom frostbite she couldn’t shake.

She rubbed her fingers together, feeling the fine grit. White powder. She glanced down and realized that she was covered in it. It dusted her skin and clothes, shimmering slightly. When she ran a hand along her braid, it sloughed away in large, shard-like clumps.