Clara was going to die.
Her mouth tasted like blood and bile. Everything hurt, pain throbbing every time her heart beat. Her breath coming in short gasps, feeling like her ribs had shattered inward to crush her lungs. Her left arm was limp and the fingers of her right couldn’t grip a dagger. Her legs must have broken, because they couldn’t hold her weight anymore. She’d used every bit of aether in her blood, and it had left her wrung out, an acid burn in her veins.
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