The stairs felt like they were crumbling beneath his feet, though they remained as solid as the ancient stone of Oakhaven. Solvren didn’t stop running until the air in his lungs burned like lye and the golden warmth of the terrace was a distant, mocking memory. He spent the night huddled in the corner of his small apartment, staring at the walls, waiting for the "now" to return to normal.But when the sun finally crawled over the horizon, the world didn't look right.His foresight, usually a crisp, transparent overlay of the next twenty-four hours, was a jagged mess. The ghost-images were flickering—sometimes showing a chair being moved, sometimes showing the chair engulfed in black flames. The "map" was bleeding.A sharp rap on his door made him jump, his heart hammering against his ribs."Solvren? You in there? It’s past eight, and you haven't picked up your milk crate. If it sits out any longer, the sun’s gonna turn it into cheese."It was Mrs. Gable, his landlady. Solvren wiped hi

The crimson haze in Elarienne’s eyes didn't fade, even as the last of the Shade-beasts dissolved into piles of black sludge. She stood there, bathed in the dying light of a sun that looked like a bleeding wound, looking less like a baker’s daughter and more like a queen of a dead world."The harvest has started, Solvren," she whispered again. The golden-eyed raven on the ruins let out a final, chilling caw before taking flight. "Don't look so scared. I’m doing this for us."Solvren stared at his hands. They were shaking so violently he had to shove them into his pockets. For the first time in his twenty-four years, the constant, flickering map of the future was gone. The "next" was a blank slate, a wall of static."El... you’re not yourself," Solvren managed to choke out. "Look at what you just did. That wasn't magic. That was... I don't even know what that was.""It’s what I am," she said, her voice regaining a bit of its usual melody, though the edge remained. She stepped toward him

The world didn't just shake; it tilted, the horizon snapping like a dry twig. Solvren lunged for the edge of the rising stone, his fingers clawing at the grass that was rapidly becoming the border of a flying island. Below, Oakhaven was shrinking, the familiar cobblestones and thatched roofs turning into a dollhouse set engulfed in violet flames."El! Grab my hand! We’re slipping!" Solvren screamed, his voice lost in the roar of displaced air.Elarienne didn't reach for his hand to save him; she reached for his collar, hauling him back toward the center of the palace gardens with a strength that made his bones groan. "Stop looking down, Sol. That part of our lives is over. Just breathe.""Over? Theric is down there! Caelvar is still by the urn!" Solvren scrambled to his feet, rushing to the jagged edge of the ascending plot of land. "We have to go back! El, look at them! The whole plaza is falling apart!""They’re exactly where they’re supposed to be," Elarienne said, her voice eerily

Solvren’s boots slipped on a stairwell that seemed to defy the laws of gravity, the smooth, dark rock vibrating under his soles like the flank of a frightened stallion. There was no down here, only a dizzying sense of inward tilt that made his stomach heave against his ribs."Watch your step, boy," Zeyron barked, not looking back as his lantern swung from a calloused fist, casting frantic, distorted shadows against the ribbed ceiling. "If you fall off this gantry, you won’t hit the ground. You’ll just keep falling until the air pressure turns your lungs inside out. Very messy. Hard to clean up.""Thank you for the comforting thought, Zeyron," Solvren muttered, gripping the damp handrail until his knuckles turned the color of lard. He tried to reach out with his mind, to skim the immediate future for a stable foothold or a safe landing, but his psychic sight hit a brick wall of absolute static. There was no tomorrow down here, only the suffocating pressure of a present that refused to

Solvren stared across the narrow, grease-slicked ledge at Elarienne, his breath pluming in violent, ragged bursts against the freezing air of the lower ballast. The heavy brass flywheel behind her spun with a low, bone-rattling hum, throwing rhythmic shadows across her pale, unblinking face. He needed to know what came next. He needed a single glimpse of safety, a solitary flash of tomorrow to prove that they wouldn't both freeze to death in this metal tomb."I'm going to try," Solvren muttered, squeezing his eyes shut as he gripped the edge of the iron railing until his fingers ached."Try what?" Elarienne asked, her voice entirely flat, stripped of the warmth he had known since they were children in Oakhaven."To look ahead. To see if this meal—or whatever Zeyron is calling a ration down here—is going to stay in my stomach." Solvren forced his mind inward, bypassing the immediate thud of his own pulse to reach for the frayed edges of the future."Don't waste your energy," Elarienne