(Caius)
I woke before her.
The room stopped me before I'd fully sat up.
The window was gone, not cracked, gone, glass across the floor in pieces. Two chairs had shifted several feet from where they'd been. A shelf had come clean off the wall, everything on it scattered across the floor. Burn marks darkened the stone around the hearth and the fire was still burning as if it had always been there.
The mirror above the mantle was in two clean pieces.
Cracks ran across the ceiling.
I lay still and felt the bond.
Complete. Nothing straining in it, nothing reaching.
Vorak was quiet.
Not the restless quiet of restraint. The quiet of something finished.
Isla stirred beside me.
She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling and then at me and something in her face was different from yeste
