The space between shadows screamed.
Mirabelle kept her eyes squeezed shut, her face buried in the rough wool of Revas' coat, but she couldn't shut out the sensation. It felt like being pulled through a straw. Her stomach turned inside out, her ears popped violently, and the cold was absolute—a freezing, airless void that tried to suck the heat right out of her bones.
Revas' arms were bands of iron around her, the only solid thing in a universe of dissolving reality.
"Hold... on..." his voice vibrated through his chest, distorted and deep, like a whale song heard underwater.
Then, gravity returned.
SLAM.
They hit stone. Hard.
Mirabelle fell to her hands and knees, gasping for air that tasted of wind and dust. The world spun wildly. She retched, her body rebelling against the unnatural transit.
"Breathe," Revas' voice said, sounding human again, though strained. "Deep breaths. The vertigo passes."
Mirabelle forced herself to look up.
They were high. Terrifyingly high.
