CXCIV: A LOVE THAT BURNS 2

And it did. Eternity did shiver, but quietly Not in thunder, and not in collapse but in restraint.

It was the sort of tremble that only those who were prior to the consequences of time could truly know. It was an unnamed moment when the world itself, full of wonders and empty of concern, decided not to move. Not because it was stayed but because it sensed something that it did not yet comprehend sufficiently to contest.

The room exhaled.

Not metaphorically. The force that had bent the air to ignite lungs full of fuel, to tense wings on unthinking command, took its toll on one final, unwilling exhalation. The humming of walls faded. The floor lost its sense of potential fracture beneath the weight of what might have occurred.

The Book was nowhere to be seen. But it was not destroyed. It just disappeared and is inside Allistair's consciousness.

Allistair felt it, second heart rate, erring in pace, erring in touch, palpable nonetheless. No screaming now. No scratching. Wrapping