Darien
The great hall had four entrances. All four of them crashed shut at the same moment, the sound ricocheting off the vaulted ceiling like a cannon blast. The lights along the walls guttered, their light flickered in unison as though weakened by a current that existed only inside the room.
Then, the windows sealed. Not closed. Sealed. Frost crawled across the glass in rapid spirals, blocking the faint gray light of approaching dawn. The temperature plummeted.
The wind came.
It poured through the cracks in the stone, through gaps that shouldn't have existed, converging in the center of the great hall in a tight, deliberate spiral. The same hum. The same presence.
Rayanna materialized from the spiral the way smoke takes shape when it finds still air. Black hair. Ivory skin. Violet e
