Time

“Well, hello,” Berend says through his teeth, wincing from the renewed pain in his side as Isabel’s weight falls on his chest. “Fancy meeting you here.”
As far as grateful embraces after harrowing journeys go, he’s had better. Isabel’s sharp elbows dig into his shoulders, and she smells like mold, soot, old paper, and something that reminds him of lightning storms out at sea. He puts his arms around her anyway, despite the strain it puts on the wound in his side, and breathes in the terrible smell and feels like maybe things aren’t so bad, really.
Continue reading “The Book of the New Moon Door: Part Three, Chapter Twenty-Three”