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Taly opened her mouth to answer, but the words caught. A cough tore through her. A wet, tearing sound that immediately gave way to another. Then another, her body folding over as she gasped for air.

“You better go,” the man called. “She won’t last much longer.”

“What does that mean? Taly?” Skye reached for her, gripping her shoulders. He tried to catch her gaze through the coughing. “Taly?”

Blood hit her palm. Her breath hitched—then turned to a gasp, a choke, another cough, harder, rawer.

“Oh no. No, no, no,” Skye pleaded. “Breathe. C’mon, Tink, you’ve got to breathe.”

But she couldn’t. She was gasping, turning blue.

Should he give her aether? Would it even matter if she couldn’t get down a breath?

Her eyelids fluttered. Skye caught her as she collapsed, hooking an arm beneath her knees.

She didn’t fight him. She was limp as he gathered her up.

Shit. This was bad.

“Keep up,” he snapped at Kato.

He didn’t wait for a reply.

His legs surged into motion. Pain lanced through his thighs, up his spine, but he forced them forward through mud and rain, through torn muscle and screaming lungs.

He didn’t care about the cold, the burn, or the forest trying to close around him. All he saw was the path ahead.

All he felt was the weight in his arms and the fear that he was already too late.

Skye ran, heading north. And he didn’t stop until Ryme loomed in the distance, a shadow set against the rising dawn.

Shardless

-From the personal diary of Corinna Venwraith, Dawnbringer

Homecoming.

I still remember the feeling—that moment when the world tilted into place, and for a little while, everything was where it should be. We were all together, and we were happy.

But I should have known better. There’s always a quiet before the storm.

Chapter 10

The waves were perfect that day—glass-smooth, sun-kissed, and just big enough to be thrilling without terrifying. Aimee skimmed over the water, surfboard steady beneath her feet.

She could hear her father’s voice, warm and encouraging, carrying over the crash of the waves.

“You’ve got this, Cori. Remember, keep your eyes on the horizon.”

Glancing back, Aimee saw him steadying her baby cousin’s board. Her little arms wobbled once before she found her balance, the grin on her face as bright as the sun beating down.

“Ready, here it comes!” In dreams, her father’s voice never lost its warmth, never faded into memory’s haze.

Then Cori caught her first wave. Her laughter rang out over the surf as she glided all the way to shore where Aiden whooped from the shallows, cheering her on.

A little way up the dune, her mother and aunt sat on a blanket, smiling as they watched with glasses of wine in hand.

Aimee sat upright on her board, water lapping gently at her waist. The horizon stretched wide behind her. She turned, catching her father’s gaze across the glimmering blue. He winked, and for a split second, everything was right with the world.