Iliana found that, in an instant, her bones had gone hollow and could no longer support her. Exhaustion emptied her of strength, stole from her the last of her awareness, and for a moment she dreamed deeply. The grass beneath her back was of the fields of home, and she was weary from all her running, from the chasing game she played with Tarin, though she had never tired of that game before. Face toward the sky, eyes shut, she wondered if he would kiss her and held her breath.
Consciousness came to her slowly, dripping into her body and mind, filling the hollow spaces with dullness, pain. There was a taste of blood in her mouth, warm as copper.
She could not remember where she was, she was nothing but weariness and blood on the tongue and the breath of wind.
There were little voices, muffled cries, dry sobs.
A prayer, unfinished, upon her lips.
Pressing off the ground. A staggering, near fall. Pressing off the ground.
"I'm not finished," she said, but there was no sound.