Riven’s voice echoed down the corridor. He turned the corner at full speed, eyes wide with panic. Ashar was right behind him, faster but quieter, his expression a deep, cold fury barely held back. When Mae saw them, her knees buckled. The fear had finally caught her, swallowed her whole. She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just said: “He’s awake.” Riven caught her just before she hit the floor. “Who?” he demanded, gently lowering her down. “Who’s awake?” Ashar stopped beside them, but his gaze wasn’t on Mae, it was down the hallway, past her room, toward the faintly flickering corridor where something had begun to, form. The walls were breathing. The stones pulsed, veins of black-light webbing through them.
The air warped as if the world around them were struggling to hold shape. “The
