Something almost like an angel.
No. Not almost. If there were such things, I might call her that. My vision fractures.
The last thing I see before everything gives way is her, still holding me steady in a world that is no longer stable.
Then darkness takes me.
27
AERYN
Everything fractures at once.
Sound splits into jagged pieces, steel clashing somewhere too close, stone breaking apart above us, voices cutting through the chaos in sharp commands that blur together before I can separate them. Beneath it all the ruin itself begins to fail in earnest, not resisting anymore, not testing, but collapsing as though whatever held it together has finally given up.
I don’t think. I don’t have time. The first vision hits before I move. A blade arcs toward Vaedros’s throat. I move before it lands. My hand catches his arm, pulling him sideways just enough that the strike misses, the edge slicing through empty air, and I catch the full weight of him immediately, heavier than I expect. His balance already gone, his body no longer holding itself upright with the control he carries so naturally.
For a second, his eyes meet mine. Then they don’t. He goes still. Unconscious. That changes everything.
Another vision tears through me. I try to lift him fully. My grip slips. We fall. We don’t get up.
Another.
I drag him too slowly. A spear drives through my side.
Another.
I hesitate. Just once. That’s enough.
No!
I force them back, pushing against the flood of outcomes, narrowing them, cutting away everything that ends in failure, because I don’t need all of them. I only need one.
Find it, Aeryn!
The heaviness behind my eyes builds fast, sharp enough to make my vision pulse, but I push through it, forcing the future into something usable, something controlled, until one path remains. Thin and fragile, but possible. That is all I need.
I move.
Vaedros is too heavy to carry cleanly, so I don’t try. I shift him instead, dragging his arm across my shoulders, turning my body under his weight until it settles across my back and down through my legs, forcing balance through positioning instead of strength.
It hurts, but it works.
“Stay with me,” I say under my breath, though he can’t hear it, though the words are more for me than for him. I take the first step.
The next attack comes from the left. I see it before it happens. I step right. The blade passes close enough that I feel the movement of air across my skin, and I keep going, never stopping, because stopping is where the path breaks.
Another vision strikes.
The floor ahead collapses. I shift direction immediately, dragging him between two fallen pillars instead of taking the open route, stepping over uneven stone that shifts under my weight but holds just long enough.
Behind us, the ground drops exactly where I would have been. No pause. No hesitation. The chamber is no longer a place. It’s a failure in motion.
Walls crack. Sections give way. Openings appear where there were none.
I use it.
Velkiron forces flood the space. Dark armor. Clean movement. They move with purpose. Too much purpose.