The smell of cold tea didn't last more than three steps past the heavy oak doors of the library. As soon as the stone hallway swallowed us, it was replaced by the scent of expensive floor wax, cold iron, and that weird, metallic tang of ozone that had been following us since the Sunken Temple.
"I'm not doing great, Ren," Tybalt whispered, his voice trembling as he gripped his nearly empty supply bag. "My hands are shaking so much I could whisk eggs without even trying. That girl in the crystal... the one who looked like Mia but... taller? Wealthier? It's messing with my head."
"It's messing with everyone's head, Ty," I said, keeping my voice low. I adjusted the satchel at my side. The four fragments—Soul, Physics, Life, and Space—were vibrating in a weird, syncopated rhythm. "Just keep your eyes on the floor if you have to. We're almost there."
