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“ Holy shit, Valdaerys .”

Taly floated at the edge of consciousness, flat on her back.

“ Seriously, don’t break the human .”

Sound blurred in and out. Voices.

She tried to move, to remember what it was to have arms, legs.

“ Wait? That’s a human? ”

There—there was her body, sprawled on the gravel. Pain throbbed at the base of her skull, shooting up and down her spine with each shallow breath. She must’ve blacked out when her head hit the ground, if only for a moment.

“ Doesn’t run like a human .”

Fingers pressed to her neck.

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 just knew you 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.

A flicker of motion caught her eye—a shadow dropping from the top of the wall, cloak billowing like a dark stain.

In one smooth movement, Skye landed, knees bending to absorb the impact as he expertly harnessed his momentum to rebound into the next step.

He headed straight for Taly.

“I’m fine,” she said to the question she could so clearly see in his eyes. The world was still spinning, and she didn’t know when her stomach had turned to acid. But she was— “Fine. Promise.”

He tugged her hood lower when he was close enough, maneuvering his body so that she was between him and the wall, completely blocking her from sight. His eyes immediately went to the blood on her face. His nostrils flared, shoulders sagging when he realized it wasn’t hers.

Your glamour… he said into her mind.

“I know,” she replied softly, looking him over as he continued to do the same. He was still too pale, and his eyes shone wildly in the dim light. But he was back on his feet, unharmed and whole and standing in front of her now.

The words started tumbling out. “Bill, he… damn it, Em, I was this close. This. Fucking . Close. And I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t catch him, I—” Angry tears stung her eyes, and she pounded a fist against the wall.

“Can we take a breath?” Skye asked.

She shot him a glare. “I’m having a moment here.”

“Oh, I’m more than aware.” Then one corner of his mouth quirked in that way that said he knew something and was waiting for her to ask the right question.

Usually, she would humor him, but after tonight— “Just say whatever it is you’re not saying.”

Skye heaved a dramatic sigh. “You’re no fun,” he said, grabbing her fist and banging it against his chest.

A hollow clang sounded.

Taly blinked. Her fingers skimmed over something solid—a rectangular shape tucked beneath his cloak.

“Oh, my Shards,” she breathed.

Skye was grinning, trying not to laugh as she wriggled a hand beneath his cloak and inside his jacket.

“Tink, we have an audience,” he said, laughing when she snarled at him to shut it , a moment later producing a metal box that she held up between them.

“You got it,” she whispered. “ How —” But she laughed, relief washing through her so sharp and sudden that her knees—

“Woah there.” Skye caught her around the waist before her legs collapsed. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine,” she said, waving him off. “How do you have this?”

Skye’s smile widened. With a snap of his fingers, a vortex of shadows burst from his palm, tendrils lashing out. They wrapped around the box, pulling—soft at first, then with undeniable strength.

She clung to it for a heartbeat longer before the darkness wrenched it free, spiraling into his waiting hand.

“I was on top of the wall,” he said. “Waiting. Something you would’ve known if you’d been paying more attention.”

Taly pressed a hand to her mouth, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry as she fell against him.

Skye winced, and she immediately straightened.

“Sorry—”

But he shook his head, kneading his shoulder. “Still a little tender. I’m not sure what that bastard did, but—”

Taly caught his hand, prying it away. There—a strange bit of color peeked from beneath his collar.

She pushed aside his cloak, lifted the edge of his jacket, peeled back his shirt—and stopped breathing.

Fine black lines fractured beneath his skin. They were warm, almost feverish beneath her numb fingers.

“Taly? What’s wrong?”

Skye—he needed a healer. She opened her mouth to say it, but the world tilted.

Her hand caught the wall. Just for balance. Just for a second.

“Taly,” he said again, sharper this time.

Shards damn it, this was not the time to lose her shit. She lifted her head— tried to lift her head. But the motion tipped her stomach sideways.

Nausea knifed through her, hot and sudden. She barely managed to shove Skye clear before she doubled over and vomited blood onto the pavement.

Kato hated hospitals. And infirmaries, clinics, pretty much anywhere that smelled like antiseptic and drying herbs rising over the tang of blood and vomit. Usually, he gave the healing park a wide, wide berth.

Except for today, when he’d found himself running across town through the gray dawn to get there as soon as possible.

Skye was Cursed. That was all Eula’s message had said—no how, no when, no chance to ask the right questions. Just enough to detonate every worst-case scenario at once.

A year ago, Kato wouldn’t have cared.

A year ago, he would’ve been able to blissfully go about his day.