Chapter 6 · The Storm-Beast's Heartbeat

"Stay with me."

Lyra's got me by the coat before my face hits the floor. My knees won't lock. Blood's soaked through the bandage at my side, stuck my shirt to my ribs.

"I'm trying," I rasp. "But the island's making a really persuasive argument for lying down."

Another pulse rolls through the cellar.

The blue flame behind the ancient door flares. Light races across the walls like veins under skin. For one impossible second I see the whole island from below—broken terraces, suspended roots, my rusted power frame, and Pip's storm-heart above us, bright and frantic.

Then it's gone.

A crack splits the air.

Not thunder. Stone.

Lyra's head jerks toward the stairs. "That came from the farm."

I shove away from her. The room tilts but I force my legs straight. "Pip."

We climb fast.

The stairs buck under our boots. Warm wind blasts down the shaft, sharp with ozone and crushed leaves. By the time I reach the hatch, lightning's turned the world white.

The farm's dying.

The primary leyline runs beneath the island like a glowing river, visible now through cracks in the earth.