Falling should have hurt.
Rin expected the impact before it came. He tightened his grip on Eryndor's hand, bracing himself for the moment they struck the ground, but the darkness swallowed every sense of direction. There was no wind against his face, no feeling of weight in his stomach, and no way to tell whether they were falling or suspended in place.
Then Eryndor's fingers slipped.
"Eryndor!"
Rin caught his wrist with both hands.
For a brief moment, he saw Eryndor's face illuminated by the black mark on his palm. Fear crossed the boy's expression, but he did not cry out. Instead, he looked directly at Rin.
"Don't let go!"
"I won't!"
The darkness trembled.
A golden line appeared beneath them, thin as a strand of hair. It widened rapidly, unfolding into a bridge of light that caught their falling bodies. They landed hard, and Rin rolled onto his side, still clutching Eryndor's hand.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Eryndor sat up.
"Are you hurt?"
