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Everyone but aze changes just perceptibly, growing heavier with soht be a plea My throat suddenly hurts, inside and out, and I glance away

Too quickly

The backyard spins I closethe world to settle

"HEY"

So I forcein front of me At first, I think it’s Kelia, but no stones are braided into this girl’s hair Plus, her eyes are unnaturally dark, and so feels off about her When a chaos luster flashes across her face, I realize what that so is pale, so pale it looks alht blue like a normal fae’s She’s a tor’um, a walker Born that way, I presume, because she doesn’t look crazy

"We need to move you inside," she says

Maybe my head isn’t completely clear yet, because it makes no sense for tor’um to be in my world Fae aren’t supposed to come to Earth unless they have permission from the Court I realize that doesn’t stop all of the for shadow-readers and huht Merchants fissure here as well, either to avoid the gate taxes or to take back Earth-oods to sell But the tor’um can’t do that They can’t fissure

"Here," she says, holding out a bottle of water "Drink"

I’m afraid to s, but my lips and throat are parched I reach for the water My arm is heavy and my hand shakes so badly I accidentally brush hers

I jerk back, dropping the bottle, as a chaos luster leaps intois cold, alaze shifts between my hand and her face, which has turned stony She picks up the bottle and thrusts it at ious"

That’s not why I recoiled I’ic--but I haven’t met many tor’um I certainly haven’t touched one before They tend to keep to themselves Whether that’s by choice or because they’re outcasts, I don’t know The ability to fissure is deeply ee handicap no fae wants It doesn’t ics; they’re not able to instantaneously travel from one point to another on their own, so fae society has left the "Be ready to y is on my lips, but ive h, and the back door to the house seems so far away I don’t knohy she wants me inside The other fae have been healed, but they don’t look like they’re going anywhere soon They’re sitting farther away froh that I can’t hear their conversations, and soht them food and water Soainst the fence, letting ain I swear it’s only seconds later when I feel so he’s been there, sitting with his arms propped up on his knees His posture makes it seem like a while, and that makes ain, hoping he’ll go away

He doesn’t

"May I heal you now?" he asks quietly

"You’re the one who cut me" My voice is weak, hoarse, and the wound across my neck stretches with each word, but at least I can speak

Aren doesn’t respond for a long tirass I should feel afraid or angry right now, but I don’t I don’t feeluntil Aren says softly, "I’m sorry"

I pull my lower lip between ret in his voice, in his gaze, even in the air around hi you," he says

"You could have healed ry, but I’htly "I tried"

At first, I think he ic After all, he healed a dozen fae during the night Then aatand de in response

A minute passes in silence before Aren says, "The tor’uhbors wake up"