Chapter Sixty-Three: Memory Bubbles

Ilyria had the dizzying impression of being in two places at once, which—in a way—she was. She was here, with Miasma beside her but also there, inside the whirlpool, with Thassa, feeling his thoughts and seeing what he saw. She watched herself reach out and pop one of the kaleidoscope bubbles that floated past, but it was Thassa’s scarred hand that did it. She looked around her and saw Miasma’s tranquil, untroubled expression beside her outside of the whirlpool. She even felt some of Miasma’s ease. It was going to be alright, of course it was, Ilyria felt Miasma thinking. It was not yet the end and who could tell if anything ever ended anyway. Comforted by Miasma’s thoughts she returned her attention to Thassa, feeling him cross his arms over his chest as the memory was released from the bubble he had just popped. His mother sitting cross-legged with little Thassa’s leg pulled over hers, carefully pulling long spiny thorns from his flesh. Thassa’s face was smooth and tear-streaked b