Lyra’s point of view

The cold of the Echo-Verse didn’t just chill my skin; it felt like a predator’s teeth sinking into my very first memory, trying to chew through the warmth of my life until only the gray remained.

One moment, I was standing in the Sunken Grove, the scent of damp moss and Miranda’s copper-tinged magic filling my nose, the next, the world snapped.

The vibrant greens of the trees were swallowed by a monochromatic fog, the earth beneath my boots dissolved into a surface ...