Chapter 5The world, the room, the tower, became a backdrop: a swirl of magic, a narwhal’s horn of magic, a skein of it, paling beside the impossibility that was nevertheless unable to be denied. The edge of giant shell that’d been a chair felt abruptly too frail, frail, brittle in the face of a land-dwelling intrusion. Universes collided; Jeremiah’s hand, outstretched, was real.
As was Jeremiah’s concerned schoolteacher’s voice. “Are you all right? Sit down—”
“I am sitting down. I’m—” He forgot to take the hand. He got up instead. “You—what’re you doing here? Are you here? Or am I seeing—I was writing, I forgot to eat, didn’t I…”
“I’m here.” Jeremiah hovered worriedly. “I’m not supposed to be here. Cadence, can we—”
“I don’t understand.” He kept wanting to blink. To clear eyes, head, c
