The second my body plunges into the ice-cold water my mind turns off. All those sleepless nights, all the voices in my head, none of it matters anymore. I can't even hear my own voice. It's weird what the cold will do. Your body can't decide whether it wants to fight or just give in.

My lungs don't burn with air, they just feel light. Tiny bubbles float to the surface as little blips of air escape my lips. The silence is so peaceful and the cold pressure around me feels like a weighted blanket.

If I just close my eyes...

"No."

I jump as a distinct voice enters my brain and I know exactly who it is.

None of it makes any sense. Why try to save me? Is it only so he can keep me alive till he gets what he wants?

"Crista."

John's voice is gentle as it winds its way from one ear to the other. I look down at my hand, my palm still grasping the crystal. There's a jumpstart in my chest and I remember why I am down here in the first place. The crystal glows in my hands illuminating a path.

"Find him," John whispers and I can't help but remember all the times I had heard him say, come find me.

Following the light path, I dive downward. For a lake, its depths might as well be an ocean. My lungs start to seize now that I'm moving. Each flail, each kick makes my chest burn with a new type of pain I've never felt before.

"I'm too late," I think to myself. "I have to be. There's no way—"

"Don't think about that," John cuts in. "Keep going, you're almost there."

Never before did I think the reassurance of the man who tried to assassinate my family would help calm me, but there's a first time for everything. I narrow my eyebrows, squinting, trying to see any type of movement, any sign of Axil, any flicker of life.

But everything is still.

"Where is he?" I try to ask John... but there is no response. "John? Where is Axil?" I try again.

The few thoughts in my head start to become fuzzy. I feel scared, depressed, lonely, ashamed, embarrassed, terrified, but I have no energy to form any proper thoughts. My heart beats wildly in my chest and my lungs beg for a breath of fresh air, but the anxious thoughts start to go away.

"Crista."

I hear in the faint distance. It too is fuzzy, but maybe fuzzy isn't the right word to describe it. Like hearing out of cans.

There's swishing around me but I can't even focus on what it might be, and quite honestly, I don't really care at this point. I'm drowning. I know it.

Something soft brushes my fingertips and it feels like the softest bed. Am I at the bottom? It could be the silky sand...

And then I feel a tug. Like being woken up in the morning, something is dragging me out of my slumber. First my arm and then around my waist. If this is some ancient fish I never learned about in my studies, at least it's got a comforting hug before the kiss of death.

And then I can't hold it anymore. I fill my lungs... with... air? Sweet relief washes over me. I swear in the back of my mind I can hear a heartbeat that doesn't match my own. Much stronger and way faster, but it all slips away in a heartbeat.

***

"Wake up... Please wake up."

I can hear the voice. Hear but not understand. It takes a minute, but even though I don't know what it's saying, I know the tone.

Axil. He's alive. How? How did he get back to the surface? When did he get back to the surface?

I already feel better knowing that he's alive and well. I try to take a deep breath but it hurts. The inside of my lungs burns with every inhale and that's when the pain finally hits me.

It feels as though I have been kicked by a horse and mulled over by the wagon. My arms, my legs, and my chest, all ache and burn. My head throbs and everything is too loud.

Wiggling my fingers takes all the energy I have. There's a sound of something falling over and then I hear it again.

"Crista. Wake up. Please."

His voice surrounds me. Real. Not just in my head. He sounds raspy, his voice hoarse and lost, but like a church bell, I'd recognize it anywhere.

My eyes flutter and I can add them to the list of things that burn. The light is way too bright and I squint them shut.

"Crista!"

Forcing my eyes open I search for Axil's voice and there he is hovering over my right side. His big blue eyes are a focus for my blurry sight.

"Thank God, you're awake! I was worried I had been too late." His voice is clearer and his weight crushes me as he hugs me close.

Hadn't I been the one to worry that I would be too late? Hadn't I been too late?

"Shh," he says stroking the top of my head. "Don't worry. Father has warned me about confusion after trauma."

Trauma? Isn't he the one that's traumatized? "What—"

"You should rest. Though," he puts his hand to his face, pondering. "I don't know if I want you going back to sleep. You might pass out again," he says mumbling under his breath.

"What?"

And the second the word comes out of my mouth it's like deja vu. I remember being in Axil's shoes standing over Zaria after she was shot by her father. I remember worrying over her bedside hoping that my magic had been quick and strong enough. I remember Axil pacing back and forth refusing to talk. He would stop in his tracks, look like he was about to say something, and then shake his head and disregard it.

I take a look around. "Where are we?"

I see the trees above me like soft green clouds. The stars peek through the leafy branches and they twinkle in the moonlight. Had I been passed out all this time? I feel underneath me and just by touch, I know it's Axil's checkered quilt. To my left, there is a fire. Warm and bright.

"How did you start the fire?" I'm able to barely ask before my throat seizes.

"I learned a thing or two from Zaria on our last adventure."

Just hearing the way he talks eases my mind. He doesn't seem angry, not anymore. A glimmer catches my eye and I see him holding something tiny in his hand.

"What's that?"

He is quiet for a moment, so I know it must not be good. For the most part, Axil is always careful with his words.

"I'm sorry," he says woefully. "It broke. Your necklace." He holds it up and I have been very mistaken. I thought he would have meant the string or the knots, but he holds a thousand tiny shards of crystals in his hands sorting through the larger pieces.

"When I found you, I grabbed your hand but you were clutching it so hard. I ripped it out of your hand and once I took it... it just exploded." He takes a deep breath. "I'm really sorry. I don't know what happened."

"Did you see it?" I ask. "The light."

He chuckles roughly. "How could I not? You looked like a lighthouse. I knew I needed to find an opening in the ice so I started swimming around. And then I saw this flash of light. It was like a path and I guess a part of me instinctually followed it."

"And... you're alright?" I ask.

Again, he pauses. "I knew something like this was bound to happen. I just knew that there was no way we couldn't have a disaster, but even though I knew it I didn't think it would be this serious. Crista," he says my name like I'm crazy. "Why did you do that? The water was freezing. You should know I've been training for situations exactly like that. You," he says strongly, "haven't."

"Like you said," I cough and it feels like a fire in my body. "It was freezing. You didn't come back up to the surface. What was I supposed to do? Leave you there?"

He sighs. "There's no point in arguing. I'm sorry." He looks down at his hands and then around. I can see him thinking.

"In my bag," I whisper. He shuffles over to my bag and digs through the few items I had packed. "The Stardust. Put it in there."

Very carefully he uncorks the bottle of Stardust and very gently funnels the pieces of crystal into the jar.

This was all my fault. Just some silly outburst. What is happening to me? I feel so angry. At myself and Axil's stupidity. I'm angry that I'm marked for death with a poison that will spread through my body. I'm angry at all the ways I could have chosen better and decided not to. I'm angry that for a glimpse of a moment, I felt sorry for John. Not just sorrow, sympathy.

What is happening?

"Get some rest," Axil whispers soothingly.

I didn't see it before. He limps back over to the fire with a handful of leaves to keep it stoked. He sits down awkwardly, grunting quietly, masking his own injuries.

"You need rest as well," I say trying to fight my body and sit up.

"Lay down. I will." Digging in his bag he gets out a thinner blanket made of soft linen, limps back over to me and drapes it up to my neck.

"No," I try to fight him. "You take it."

"Stop," he says squeezing my arms before limping back over to the fire.