The river's poison shimmered under the moonlight, thick and iridescent like spilled oil. Kael dragged Lyra along the rocky bank, her breaths ragged and shallow. Black veins snaked up her neck, pulsing like worms beneath her skin. The forest around them hissed—leaves dripped venom, sizzling where they struck stone.
"Faster," Lyra choked, clutching her chest. Her voice frayed, barely audible over the river's gurgle. "The toxin… it's spreading."
Kael tightened his grip on her waist, his skeletal right hand throbbing. Ahead, the river curved sharply, bubbling with gaseous plumes that reeked of sulfur. A child crouched at the water's edge, filling a clay jar.
No older than seven, Kael thought. Alone. Unarmed.
Lyra sagged against him, her boots scraping the rocks. "Don't… look at her."
The child's reflection rippled in the poisoned water—not her own, but Lira's, smiling softly, her braids untouched by flame. A trick? A warning?
Lyra coughed, black blood spattering her chin. "Keep… moving."
Her legs buckled. Kael caught her, lowering her onto a patch of moss. Her pupils dilated, swallowing the amber of her eyes.
"You're dying," he said, voice flat.
She gripped his wrist, nails digging into his flesh. "Not… from this." Her gaze flicked to the child. "Don't you dare."
The girl hummed, skipping stones across the river. Each pebble sank instantly, devoured by the toxic current.
Kael's shard burned at his belt. Steal a minute. Just one.
He'd aged a leaf to dust in the temple. He'd crumbled a guard to bones. But this—a child's laughter ringing in his ears—felt different.
Lyra's breath hitched. "Kael… promise me."
The child turned, holding out her jar. "Thirsty?"
Innocent. Trusting.
Lyra's hand fell limp.