Page 6 of Crucible

I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for it to stop. “I hate flying,” I grumble when the plane finally settles.

Tyler checks his watch and sighs. “It’s been a long day. We have a few hours until we reach Hearth. You should get some sleep.”

I hum. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it,” he says before I can ask if he wants to join me.

Once Tyler’s gone, I stare at the door he disappeared through for a while. When he doesn’t return, I sigh my disappointment and stand from the bed to remove my boots and costume.

I’m too tired to look for my bonnet in the luggage my housekeeper packed for me, so I keep the wide green and white gingham ribbon tied around my head. It’s the only thing protecting my riot of golden 4a curls from total chaos.

Leaving my clothes on the floor, I climb back on the bed and collapse with a sigh.

I’m asleep before I even remember closing my eyes.

I’m jostled awake by turbulence.

My head is already turned toward the small oval window when I open my eyes, so I can see it’s light out.

No.

Not light.

White.

There’s a wall of fog so thick the sun can never hope to pierce it.

At first, I think it’s the altitude—that we’re soaring among stubborn clouds that refuse to part for us—but the fog seems sentient. Angry and vengeful. It knocks the plane around, growing more violent the longer we stay. After a while, it doesn’t feel like mere turbulence.

Tyler bursts through the bedroom door without knocking, and I don’t even think to be embarrassed about my lack of clothing.

Something is very, very wrong.

“What is it?” I groggily ask as I sit up. “What’s happening?”

“Get dressed and come to the front,” he orders. He makes a good attempt at sounding calm, but his voice is edged with fear and panic.

“Tyler, what is happening?” I demand again.

The plane suddenly dips, and for a long, heart-stopping moment, I think we’re dropping out of the sky. My stomach reacts so forcibly that it feels like it touches my spine.

Tyler curses when I’m thrown to the side and tumble off the bed. He rushes over to help me from the floor and only lets go when he’s sure I’m steady on my feet.

“We crossed paths with a rogue storm, and it’s bad,” he explains. “The captain is trying to make an emergency landing.”

“In that?” I shriek, throwing an arm toward the window. “How? I can’t see anything.”

“That’s why you need—” A violent updraft cuts him off. We both lose our balance when we’re thrown off our feet—me backward and Tyler forward. When he lands on me, his weight steals my breath. “Get out front!” he yells once the plane rights itself, and he’s back on his feet.

Ty’s gone before I can beg him not to leave me, so I do what he says, swiping my dress from the floor. Tyler had left the door open, so I can see the rest of the plane as I struggle to get into my dress.

It’s chaos in the cabin.

Cassie is screaming, at least two of my guards are vomiting, and I can hear alarms blaring from the open cockpit.

Tyler stumbles to the front of the plane to check on Cassie, who blacks out by the time he reaches her. Shoving his hand underneath the scarf still around her neck, he checks her pulse. His face is tight when he turns around, but there’s no trace of devastation.

She’s still alive, at least.

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