“Sorry,” I whispered, trying to be as innocuous and undemanding as I could. Bis’s tail tightened, and I wondered if some of it might be the lines, though he’d felt them through Bis before.

Eyes watering, Trent gestured for Quen to back off. “The lines are . . . indescribably awful,” Trent managed, pulling himself to his full height, looking shaken but undeterred.

“That’s why the gargoyles are upset,” I said as I linked my arm in his, and he started. “If you don’t like it, you can bubble your thoughts. You think it’s bad now, you should have heard it before Bis fixed your line.”

“Can we go?” Bis almost whined. “The sooner we fix another, the better I’ll feel.”

I took a deep breath and nodded my farewell to Quen. The sun would be up far too soon. I had to finish it by then. “Then by all means, let’s go.”

And we were gone.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Swirling, howling colors of noise beat at me as I floundered in a wide river of energy. It was so thick I could hardly think. Fatigue pulled at me. It was getting harder to keep myself intact. Bis? I thought, searching for something familiar, and his presence joined mine, a solid, soothing gray.

Trent? I thought, and Bis brought to me his emotions of determination, surprise, and awe of the strength we were surrounded by. He was with us, but quiet, trying to take it in.

Find this! Bis’s thoughts were laced with exhaustion, and I fastened on his low impressions of green, gold, and brown, swirling with a harsh slash of red and black. I fumbled through the jumbled imbalances, picking threads and bundling them until I matched what Bis was showing me, which was complex with incredibly high and low sensations. I vaguely felt the drive to breathe, felt the pain of oxygen starvation creeping up on me, making my thoughts slow.

Got it! I thought, panicking when I found Bis struggling. This would be a lot easier if we didn’t have to do this on the run. Bis, where does it go? I thought as I bubbled the imbalance. Where does it go!

His thoughts whispered in mine, singing a color I felt I should recognize. I tuned the bubble holding the imbalance to it, and with a ping of sensation I felt Trent notice, it was gone. A pure note joined the howling energy, ringing in the sound of hope.

Wrenching us together, I shifted the circle surrounding us to the taint of the imbalance I’d just replaced, feeling reality swirl and coalesce. The imbalance made each ley line unique—the key flaw that made traveling them possible.