POV: Lyra

Some forces scream when resisted, the most dangerous ones go quiet.

The silence arrived first, not the peaceful kind, not the kind that settles after a storm. This was a deliberate absence, a space carved out of sound and warmth, like the world was holding its breath and waiting to see if I would notice.

I noticed.

Kenny slept curled on his side, the faint blue sheen of the Keeper’s Spell pulsing steadily against his skin. It should have ebbed with dreams. Instead, it held like a ...