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The girl’s lips peeled back, teeth bared, a snarl ripping from her throat.
More than corrupted. Possessed.
A compulsion surged inside her to help.
Then the girl’s expression flickered with sanity, then recognition.
“Idonea?”
Idonea’s heart wrenched from her chest. The girl was her sister.
“Dyota?”
Screams echoed around her. The Current was severed.
Her eyes flew open and Lysander stood before her, his hand gripping her shoulders. The basement swam around them in watery shapes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Her throat burned raw. Her pulse thrashed. She shook her head, but the vision slammed against her mind again.
She couldn’t breathe.
“I’m taking you to bed,” he said, his brows furrowed.
Her blood turned to ice, her limbs stiff and numb. His arms lifted her, guided her up the stairs. Her legs buckled halfway and the sharp pain shocked her briefly back into her body.
A broken sound eluded her.
Lysander didn’t leave. He helped her onto the bed, settling her against him as her body caved in with wrenching sobs she couldn’t hold back.
Her mind kept showing Dyota’s face.
Idonea broke.
Lysander held her until the sobs turned to trembling. He didn't speak. In the long silence, his chest rose and fell in perfect sync with hers, guiding her back to calm.
Chapter 23
Adull throb pulsed in her head as she pushed herself upright, the bedding cold against her palms. The space beside her was cold as well. Lysander must have left long ago.
On the dresser lay a fresh outfit. It consisted of dark brown pants and a long-sleeved black fur-lined coat that fell to the ankles, with large silver buttons down to the waist; an outfit designed to cover any hint of scars.
She dressed, every movement mildly disorienting; part of her was still in the vision. The memory of Dyota’s blackened eyes threatened to surface again, but Idonea shoved it down.
When she stepped from the bedroom, she found a teacup and copper bowl of buckwheat porridge topped with winter apples. Idonea only sat when the front door opened again.
Lysander strode in, cloak dusted with snow. “You’ve been summoned.”
Her fingers tightened over the teacup. “The Grand Templar is here?”
“You'll see what approaches on the horizon,” he said, and gestured to the door.
She swallowed. He didn’t say no, or yes. She took a quick sip of the tea before following.
The wind stung her cheeks the moment she stepped outside. The already darkened sky deepened, shadows crawling towards the town centre. An airship drifted towards it, and there was no sign of Lance.
As soon as they neared the fountain, Alcaeus called out, “Lysander, up on the stable roof to secure the anchor.”
