Zephyr
I was in the map room when it hit me.
There was no sound. That's what I need you to understand. No messenger, no speaking-stone, no alarm bell. One moment I was standing over the border charts with a pen in my hand, and the next moment the pen was on the floor and I was on one knee beside it, because something had gone through my chest like a lance of ice, and the something was her.
Terror. Wren's terror. Not an idea of it. The thing itself, poured straight into me from forty miles away, snow and sky spinning, trees coming up fast, and then a white flash of pain that was not my pain, and then, worst of all, nothing. A silence down a thread I had no name for, in a place in my chest I hadn't known was there until it went quiet.
I was moving before I was standing. I don't remember
