Chapter 101. When the Ground Remembers

The ridge tipped as if some vast hand had slid under one edge and lifted, and every ankle on the slope answered the new law before thought could swear at it. Torches skittered in their sconces, flames straining sideways; people grabbed for whoever was nearest instead of whatever they loved, because bodies catch faster than belongings. Snow let go of its own shape and flowed a finger-width, the whole hillside settling into a posture no one had agreed to.

Aria did not fall. Jules’s grip yanked her a half-step back, Cassandra’s blade pressed in at her spine to lend her borrowed balance, and the vessel at her shoulder leaned just enough to keep their joined hands level. Lior went to one knee, the ambient shimmer blown thin by the shift until he caught it and drew it up again, a net re-cast over a world that had changed its mind about down.

The thing that had come through with the leader spread across the new slope like oil in water, not thick, not sticky, unnervingly quick.