Engraved: Book Five Of The St. Croix Chronicles - Plot & Excerpts
Limp as I was, I became barely cognizant of a softness beneath me reminiscent of feathers, and a cool bit of cloth upon my brow. Breathing in was not so easy as it could have been, but much easier after the stays I wore had been loosened. The air thrummed with the roar of a crowd muted by the thickness of the ground between where I lay and the rings that must be overhead—but the music had swelled to an anticipatory crescendo. Yet my heart did not thud against the cage of stays and straining ribs. My blood slowed sluggish and sweet, and as I took a deep breath, the smoky, floral spice of Chinese tar melted over open flame filled my senses. I sat up, eyes snapped wide, and clapped a hand over my nose. Too late. Small hands caught at my shoulders. Brilliant colors shimmered together, until my senses awakened enough to place the gamine features of the young Flip at my side.
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