The pulsing gave way to a controlled eruption of warmth, then rose over the table, forming an amber-hued hologram of Winter himself that had a collective gasp sounding through the room. It sharpened and came into crisp focus, albeit rippling every few moments, a signal that the connection was a strain for him to maintain across planes.
“Winter,” Evira breathed, her breath catching.
“Shit,” Zayn rasped, leaning forward in a bid to draw even closer.
“Little death.”
We all studied the hologram. It looked like he was sitting down, his form only visible to just below his torso. He was wearing one of his hoodies, his head tipped back a little against a wall. He looked weary, but there was a smile on his face as he took in everyone around the table.
“So many of you gathered,” he spoke, his wondrous voice rolling through me. “Good timing, then.”
I cleared my throat and told him, “This gemstone creation was inspired, Winter.”
“Well, where there’s a will, there’s a way, right?”
“Are you well, baby boy?” Velra asked, pushing out of her seat and drawing closer like Zayn was.
“I’m good,” was all he said, and Sylas caught my eye, the both of us frowning.
I wanted to ask more, and as I glanced around the table, I saw the same impulse playing on the expressions of so many of them. But that weariness in Winter’s eyes… it wasn’t the right time to push for details in that area. In fact, it could prove dangerous if he was hanging on by a thread as it seemed.
“Win, we have an awesome surprise for you when you get back,” Zayn called out.
Wonderful boy.
That was a great move.
Evira and I grinned at one another.
“A surprise? Really, huh?”
“I know you’re not usually a fan, but—”
“I am if it’s from the three of you.” He swung his head suddenly, eyes wide, looking at something we couldn’t see, something outside of the hologram’s visual purview.
“Winter?” Cassius queried. “Are you all right?”
“Tiny god,” Ketheron whimpered, and grasped Ambrose’s hand to steady himself.
I saw Remnant reach out to Lazriel, obviously feeling his anxiety surging.
“Yeah,” Winter replied. “Fine. I just… I need to make this quick.” He squeezed his eyes shut and the pain when he opened them had my stomach twisting. “And I don’t want to.”
“We’re coming very soon, getting you out of that hell place,” Sylas rumbled. “We just need you to—”
“You need to know the size of this place. And where to direct what I assume is gonna be Ambrose’s black magic to fuck up the construct? It’s not gonna be enough, there’s a material element to it too.”
“I’ve got the material element covered,” I told him. “I have my people’s vibrational resonance infusing me.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Fuck, that’s… exactly what’s gonna be needed to deal with that part of it. Wait, how many of your people?”
“Why?” Sylas asked. “How large is Sanctus?”
“The size of a fucking realm, Dad. A whole realm.”
“The Dracoryn Realm?” Evira asked.
“A little smaller—the Dark Fae Realm, would be accurate.”
