But even as Korra spoke, a chill ran down my spine. A new thread of mana bloomed, a deep, hollow void that pulsed with malice. It didn't feel like Connor, nor any of the other Risen. Nor did it come from the battle.
Luke felt it as soon as I did, stiffening against me. "Damn it! Someone's going for the shard!"
I yelped as he suddenly dove, accelerating toward the city. The world flipped, my stomach somersaulting as we plummeted. It was so fast, so sudden, I hadn't time to prepare myself, my scream trailing after us. My wards protected me from the wind, which, with the speed we were going, would have stripped my flesh from my bones, but the air rushed by my lungs, refusing to be swallowed. The whiplash was jarring, leaving a brutal ache in my neck and joints.
"Luke!" Korra shouted, following after us with Gayron. "Careful! She's fragile!"
