It happens so fast, yet agonizingly slow.
They had faced worse foes in the past, and they will face worse foes in the future. Cornelia will always remember her shock of orange hair, her vengeful smile. She is cunning and cruel and as predictable as the slew of adversaries they had defeated in their time defending the metaworld.
But he had to go and be a hero. A quick, dumb, careless, self-sacrificing hero.
Cornelia knows she should feel the attack, but she doesn't. The blow never comes. It is taken by someone else.
So fast, too slow. The shape of him, but no, that couldn't be…
A few feet to her right. The love of her short life. Lifeless.
She uses every ounce of pain and rage left in her to defeat their villain. When she comes to, she is bent over him, the mist of her tears blurring her vision. She sees—can't see—her whole future slip away before her eyes.
And then Caleb groans. His eyes slip open, just a crack. Words tumble from her mouth, incomprehensible, and he grasps her hand and cries with her.
Cornelia is eighteen when she nearly loses the love of her life. She had seen her future disappear, something so tenuous, so unattainable, so desirable that she drops everything to be with him on Meridian.
From behind the tears in her eyes, she has never seen so clearly.