"The storm does not forget the sea.
Nor does the fire forgive the tree.
You laid your hands on one of mine,
Now drown beneath the weight of my wrath…"
Cold and menacing, a sudden voice rang out. It carried a weight that pressed against the skin of everyone present.
—A blade sliding into the flesh.
—A suffocating pressure that gripped his chest and squeezed.
That was how it felt, at least to Conrad. But by the reactions of everyone else present, that must have been how they felt as well.
The shattered walls groaned, the fractured pieces of glass trembled on the floor, and the broken tiles all seemed to recoil as an unseen force swept through the spacious atrium.
Footsteps, they heard footsteps descending the staircase above.
At first, there was only a shadow, and then, at the edge, a figure emerged, stepping into the dim light. At this unexpected sight, Connie's eyes widened in an unsettling way.
