Chapter 87
Third pov
Gabriella looked up at the fractured sigils hovering over the table, at the bonds tugging invisibly at her soul, at the silence of the gods pressing down like a weight.
“Then we change the rules again,” she said.
Outside, the night shuddered.
Somewhere, magic misfired.
And the victory, still warm in memory, began to show its fault lines.
The cracks did not spread evenly.
They crept.
By the next morning, reports arrived in fragments rather than waves. A healer in the northern fjords found her spells reversing themselves mid-cast, knitting bone but tearing muscle. In the desert realms, oases vanished overnight, only to reappear miles away, their waters humming faintly with чуж—wrong—magic. In one mountain pack, gravity failed for three heartbeats, sending sentri
