Suddenly, it was all over. A wave was thrown at me, which I sliced through the middle of, sending freezing rain pelting down everywhere, momentarily veiling the world. And when I looked again—

Aeslinn was gone.

~~~

I swam back to consciousness again at Gertie’s, the familiar, lavender-scented sheets alerting me to my location even with my eyes closed. But there were different scents mixed in there, too, strange ones. A sharp, acidic reek tickled my nose, like the medicinal potions my Victorian counterpart brewed up to torture initiates who had anything from a cough to a sprain; the slick smell of ozone, cool and vaguely metallic, as if from a rain-riddled sky; and a warm and seductive scent that reminded me of sex, surprising and completely out of place in what was essentially a magical nunnery.

My eyes opened to find a pillow half over my face. I removed it, but it didn’t help my vision very much. There was no sunlight streaming through the window this time, just scattered moonbeams from the wind tossing the sheers around. I looked at them blankly, wondering what had happened to the day, then sat up, intending to go find out—

And oh.

Oh, God.

Oh, no.

I lay back against the bolster, arching and writhing, because everything hurt. Even my toes were complaining, although it was hard to tell past the throbbing headache and the screaming nerves and the pulse suddenly pounding in my throat like it wanted to get out. I groaned softly, and my voice sounded hoarse and raspy, as if I’d been screaming for hours.

Had I been screaming?

I had no memory of it. No memory of anything after Aeslinn fled. Just fog and darkness and—

“Get her onto the bed.” It was an older woman’s voice. Gruff, almost harsh. I thought I should know it…

“Get her to a healer! We can’t cure this!” another woman, her voice high pitched and frantic. A stranger.

“It’s too late for a healer. Are you blind?” a third woman demanded. Her voice was familiar, too, but so strained that I couldn’t name her. She sounded like I felt.

“Shut up!” Finally, a voice that I could name. It was Rhea, but calling out from a distance, as if she was by the door or out in the hall. “It’s all right, Lady, you’ll be all—”

“Get her out of here!”

I snapped back from the memory or vision or whatever the hell that had been, panting and shaking and more than a little freaked out. Not that I hadn’t had similar experiences in the past—when you’re a seer, it comes with the territory. But not like that.