Chapter 28 · Untitled Chapter

"Rowan!"

Lyra's voice cut through the smoke just before the floor dropped out from under him.

The Root Island sank another dozen feet in one brutal jolt. Rowan slammed his shoulder into a support pillar and caught himself inches from the edge. Pain burst through his ribs. His injured arm hung useless, blood soaking through his torn sleeve.

The stone chamber tilted hard. Broken consoles skidded toward the eastern wall. Copper pipes tore loose overhead, and blue-white leyfire hissed across the floor in branching veins.

"Rowan! Move!"

Lyra was on one knee beside the broadcast dais, one hand pressed to her throat. The burned remains of her royal badge lay near her boot, the metal still glowing red.

Behind her, the shattered relay screen flickered with seven islands plunging through a storm-colored void.

One vanished beneath the clouds.

A second followed.

The chamber lurched again.

"Pip!" Rowan shouted.

A small shape crawled from beneath a collapsed console. Pip's storm-antlers were dim, one cracked near the base. Steam rose from its fur. The young beast lifted its head and gave a weak, furious growl.

"I know," Rowan said, forcing himself upright. "I know you're tired. Come on."

Pip staggered toward him.