Katelina woke to crushing blackness. Soft sounds drifted from somewhere distant. She strained to catch them, but they stayed indistinct whispers. She sat up, slowly, her joints stiff, and decided that the discomfort was good. It meant she was alive; even if she wasn't sure where she was.

With no present to process, she turned her thoughts to the past. The fight in the throne room, Kateesha's laughter, the blood that leaked from her full lips as she drained Jorick, his face ...