Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Architecture of the In-Between
The silence of the Obsidian Hall was not the absence of sound, but the presence of a new, terrifying frequency. It was the hum of a world that had been stitched back together with invisible thread—a seam held in place by the sheer force of my isolation.
I watched the heavy iron-bound doors click shut behind Roric and Elias. Through the wood, through the very molecular structure of the stone, I could feel the vibration of Roric's grief. It was a jagged, messy thing, thick with the scent of salt and old leather. Beside him, Elias's heartbeat was a thin, flickering candle, stripped of the roaring furnace of the Shard. He was human. He was safe.
