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“Twenty minutes,” she murmured, fumbling for more pins and hoping he didn’t notice the way her fingers trembled as she secured the second braid.

“Fifteen minutes was supposed to be the upper limit for how long a soul can remain untethered. Just goes to show you can’t believe everything you read, I guess. ”

The sound Skye made was small and strangled. Not a cry, not a snarl, yet somehow both.

“Look,” she said, turning to face him. “Nothing happened.”

“You died .”

“ Temporarily .”

That was definitely a snarl that followed her as she stormed out of the bedroom, fury snapping at her heels.

“We’re not done,” Skye called after her.

“You might not be, but I am,” she snapped back, scowling when she saw the state of the common area.

She added another item to her mental to-do list: stop letting Skye and his stupid, magic cock drag her down into his own bad habits. She was better than this.

Better than the couch cushions that were half on the floor, and most certainly better than the discarded clothing scattered haphazardly everywhere , the empty wine bottles, and…

“ Shiiit ,” she groaned, turning her favorite reading chair back upright.

One of the legs was missing. Shattered. They had rather quickly discovered that while it looked sturdy enough, not everything was made for vigorous activity.

Reaching for her aether, she found only dregs. And it just got harder to rewind the damage the longer she let it set.

Damn, damn, damn…

“Taly,” Skye said, and she growled. The man just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

Then there were hands on her shoulders, gently pulling her away from her anxious tidying.

“I’m trying here. I really am,” he said. “But I need you to help me.”

His face was soft, sincere. The same as his hands, cupping her face as if she were something fragile.

Of everything—the pounding headache, the mess, the complete inability to carve out any amount of peace to file away the cognitive fallout of twenty minutes of clinical death and maybe meeting god— that pissed her off the most.

She wasn’t fragile. She’d survived worse than this, alone , with no one around to put her back together.

“Look, can we just sit down? You’re white as a sheet. I’m worried you’re going to—”

Taly jerked away. She didn’t need him fussing over her. She needed to move. Needed to bring order to the room, to her thoughts, to everything spiraling out of her control.

“You were under attack,” Skye pressed, voice thick.

“We were in a place where we should’ve been safe, and then we weren’t, and this”—he gestured sharply—“should not be the first time we’re talking about psychic parasites, Taly.

I can’t protect you from the things I can’t anticipate.

What’s next, huh?” He tore at his hair. “Are the lampposts going to attack next time you walk down a dark alley? Because if so, I’d really like to know ahead of time! ”

Taly slammed a book onto the shelf. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

She wasn’t looking at him, but she could feel it—his eyes boring into the back of her head. For several long moments, he just stared at her incredulously.

“Really?” There was something manic in his voice, a note of hysteria beneath the frustration.

“So, psychic monsters that want to possess and devour you through dreams— that’s plausible?

But sentient lampposts with an ancient time mage blood feud—that’s crossing over into ridiculous?

Good to know. I’m glad we found that line, because I’m losing track of just how many things want to kill you! ”

“It’s not your job to protect me!”

“Yes, it is!” he roared, and she knew she’d touched a nerve. “It is and always will be my job to protect you because between the two of us I’m the only one who seems to care whether you live or die. You promised you wouldn’t keep secrets.”

“I wasn’t keeping secrets!” Taly snapped. “I just didn’t tell you because I knew you would freak out!”

Skye’s jaw clenched, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He was holding back, barely.

Except she could see it now. The storm of golden apparitions playing out around him, flashing through every impulse he was choking down.

One Skye exploded in anger, words flying like daggers. Another slammed a fist through the wall. Another stormed out as yet another hurled the nearest object across a room.

“Wow,” she said, low and sharp. “I never knew you were such a ticking time bomb, Em. All these things you want to do, but don’t—are you really that close to losing it all the time? Or is it just me who brings out the worst in you?”

A new apparition flickered—this one stepping forward, hands outstretched as though to shake her.

Taly let out a cold, humorless laugh. As if she needed more proof that he was insane for saddling himself to her. Usually, she enjoyed being right. This time, it was just a bitter pain in her heart.

“Seriously, I know we joke about it, but you really are a fucking masochist,” she said, each word a razor’s edge. “Why would you want to bond with someone who makes you feel like this? All I ever seem to do is piss you off. How is that worth it?”

Fury snapped off him like sparks. The air crackled around him. She’d never seen him this angry—not even in Strio, when they’d had their screaming match that resulted in a year of silence.

Yet even now, as the storm raged inside him, he forced himself to speak slowly. Calmly.

“You don’t get to be angry at me for the things I don’t do.”

Her mouth curled in something too bitter to be a smile. “We’ll see about that.”

“Taly—”

She was done.

She didn’t want to hear him defend the bond, try to justify something she already knew was doomed.

“I’m not going to stop scrying. That is the end of this discussion.”

With that, she grabbed her glamour from the desk and pivoted. Calcifer followed close behind, his ears flat against his head as she strode for the door to the apartment.

Taly fastened the glamour around her wrist. It would hide the sickly pallor of her skin. The last thing she needed was for everyone around here to go back to treating her like she was made of glass.

She slapped her cheeks to shake off the fatigue. Get your shit together. Next time, she would be ready. She would build her walls higher, stronger. Of all the monsters, grimbles were the most hideous. Living, breathing nightmares. But she’d survived the worst.

Now, it could only get better.

Taly took a breath. See? She already felt lighter.

Sarina and Ivain were at the breakfast table when Taly shoved open the door. Skye was right behind her, slamming a hand into the wood as it swung back into his face.

“Hello baby,” Sarina cooed, smiling down at Calcifer as he laid his head in her lap.

“Oh dear,” she said when she saw the twin scowls that entered the room.

“Don’t tell me the honeymoon is already over.

With all the bumps and bangs coming from upstairs at all hours, I was hoping to have at least one grandchild by the year’s end. ”

Ivain sighed, hair mussed and sticking out in odd directions, one hand gripping his mug like it was a lifeline. “I’d almost forgotten what it was like to wake up to the sound of arguing.”

Taly ignored them, aiming for the sideboard, where breakfast and salvation in the form of coffee sat waiting.

“Oh, Taly, you made the paper this morning.” Sarina picked up the newspaper from the middle of the table, folding it to the correct page. “There,” she said, tapping her finger. “Minor tremor disrupts local neighborhood.”

Taly paused to scan the few lines of text. “I caused an earthquake?”

“Of course, she caused a fucking earthquake,” Skye muttered.

“Oh, calm down,” Sarina said. “Earthquakes are common during Solnar. It’s no harm done.”

Taly narrowed her eyes. Something was off. Sarina was in a suspiciously good mood. And Ivain, while he was never in a good mood this early in the morning, even he looked relaxed.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, looking between them. “Shouldn’t you two be smothering me with concern right now? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? Are you on drugs? Can I have some?”

Ivain snorted, rubbing his eyes. “Do you really think that was our first time dealing with a time mage coming out of chrono-stasis?”

“Tess had a safe room. Padded walls,” Sarina added, sipping her tea.

Skye’s jaw clenched, eyes flashing. “You both knew about this?”

“About Weave beasts?” Ivain took a bite of biscuit. “Of course. Though I figured they’d all gone extinct without a reliable food source.”

“Or into hibernation,” Sarina murmured, smoothing her palm down the curve of Calcifer’s head. His ears slicked back with the motion, a low rumble stirring in his chest. “Oh, Taly, wait. Drink this before coffee. It works better on an empty stomach.”

Taly paused mid-pour. Sarina pushed a glass filled with something frothy and white across the table.

Faeflower tonic. Extra slimy. Taly took a sip and cringed. “Oh my Shards… why is it so thick?”

“Oh, that would be the egg.”

“Why are you making me drink an egg, Sarina?”

“That was my idea, actually,” Ivain piped up. “That there is your great-grandmother’s chrono-stasis hangover cure. Tess swore by it.”

Taly eyed the glass warily. Ivain motioned for her to chug it.

She did. Barely. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she fought the urge to vomit.

“Why is no one taking this seriously?” Skye demanded.

“Who said we weren’t?” Sarina asked.

“We accept full responsibility,” Ivain said. “Taly, I am so sorry for what you had to endure. If it’s any consolation, you handled yourself with grace.”

Taly’s eyes snapped to Skye. “Ha!”

“It is a pity,” Ivain went on. “I was hoping to find more of the riftway keys, but obviously, we can’t ask Taly to keep going.”

Skye smirked. Taly rolled her eyes as she finished pouring a cup of coffee. “He said he can’t ask me, dummy. He doesn’t need to. I’m going to do it anyway.”

But Ivain looked hesitant.

Taly slammed the coffee pot down. “Oh, my Shards. You can’t be serious.”

“There are precautions we could take,” Sarina suggested.

“It wouldn’t eliminate the danger entirely, but—what?

Ivain, we talked about this. All magic carries risk.

How else would I have ever learned not to burn myself if I never faced the flames?

Or you—where did you learn to control your strength if not through trial and error? ”

“If there’s a grimble on the loose, we shouldn’t be encouraging Taly to scry. We should be installing a dreamspindle. I’m sorry,” Ivain said to Taly’s scowl, “but I’m with Skye on this one.”

Skye leaned down, whispering smugly, “ Ha .”

Taly bristled. “I don’t need a dreamspindle. There’s no reason to hobble me in my sleep too.”

“It has your scent now,” Ivain explained. “Time mages used to hunt these things. Tess was one of them. Without their protection, I can’t say with any certainty it won’t find you again.”

Sarina looked to Taly. “I’m sorry, little one, but he does have a point.”

Gritting her teeth, Taly muttered, “ I’m not using a dreamspindle .”

Skye moved to her other ear. “I’m installing one today.”

“If you put it up, I’m taking it down.”

“You’re right. I should put it on the ceiling.” Skye flashed her a cocky grin. “I look forward to watching you try to reach it.”

Taly’s fingers tightened around the mug. Skye just stared her down.

“I don’t know, Ivain. I think I actually missed this.” Sarina scratched a purring Calcifer beneath the chin. “Nothing like a lively debate to get your blood burning in the morning.”

“I miss eating my breakfast in peace,” Ivain grumbled.

Taly exhaled sharply. She didn’t need this right now. She didn’t need to be coddled or the subject of everyone’s aggravation.

What she needed was a strong cup of coffee and a to-do list long enough to drown out every unwanted thought. Maybe a little bit of space to pull herself together, which she would get on the walk to the healing park where she would hopefully find that second thing and a refill for the first.

She set her empty plate on the bar, filled her cup to the brim.

“Where are you going?” Sarina asked.

Taly didn’t answer, aiming for the door.

“Just in case you try to twist everyone’s words around later, the verdict was no scrying,” Skye called after her.

Taly gave a wordless scream of frustration as she stalked out of the room.

“Well, I think that went well,” Sarina said as the door swung closed.

“Oh, yes,” Ivain drawled. “She seems very stable.”

Sarina waited until Taly was safely out of earshot, then spun around to Skye. “How is she really? Tell us everything.”

Skye frowned. “What happened to ‘ Do you really think that was our first time…’ and all that crap?”

Sarina rolled her eyes. “That was for Taly, obviously. Really, Skye, you know how she is. Any hint of worry comes across as some sort of critique of her frailty.”

“It’s a wonder she didn’t come to breakfast prepared with a ten-point list and a slideshow on why our worries are unfounded,” Ivain added.

“You’re right,” Sarina murmured. “That is concerning.”

“All mages with the Sight confront their share of Eldritch,” Ivain explained. “Tess’s first rumble was with a gloamharrow. She didn’t sleep for a week. Drawing a grimble, though, and on the first go…” He winced. “That’s brutal.”

They stared at him, faces full of worry and expectation.

“I don’t know,” Skye said.

“But you’re in her head,” Ivain pointed out.

“Not when she’s kicked me out of it.” Indeed, the bond between them was closed . Firmly. Like a door had been slammed shut. A hum of awareness, like a thin strip of light at the bottom, was the only indication that she was still on the other side of it.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

Yeah right.

He saw her hands shaking. Heard the tremor in her voice.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Skye said. “She just woke up and started yelling. And cleaning.”

Sarina heaved out a sigh. “Well, that’s a small relief. At least, that means she’s working through her anger instead of, ahem, running from it. Ooh, maybe I’ll have the maids create little messes. It might soothe her.”

“Are we still sure she’s inside the city?” Ivain asked.

“It’s been five minutes. She hasn’t even left the house,” Skye said. A door slammed from somewhere far off. “Never mind. She’s in the wind.”

An all-too-knowing look passed between brother and sister. “Perhaps…” Sarina murmured.

Ivain nodded his agreement. “Just to be safe, I’m going to tell the guards manning the gate to keep an eye out.”