“He was up to his neck in it. He was breathing the air of its world, adapting to its gravity. The story's essence had permeated every part of him, to the walls of his viscera.”

“He doesn’t just look upset—he looks newly blind. There is such loss in his eyes, and it permeates every other part of his body.”

“A diet of rations etched his figure, and the sea air and sun peeled back a layer of his essence...It's as if he's passed through some cloud of aether, and he's come back to us with the outer reaches of the universe still clinging to him.”

“It's a soft-sounding word, 'never,' but its velvety timbre can't hide its sharp edges...Never pressed down on him. It grabbed him by the neck and shook him. He sucked in a deep breath, sucked in all that never and started to sneeze. Never filled his nose, his eyes, his soaking fur.”

“She looked up at him with a smile. The smile broke what was left of his resistance - shattered it. He had let the walls down when he'd thought she was gone, and there was no time to build them back up. Helplessly he pulled her against him. For a moment she clung to him tightly, warm and alive in his arms. Her hair brushed his cheek. The color had come back into the world; he could breathe again, and for that moment he breathed her in - she smelled of salt, blood, tears, and Tessa.”

“Morgan watched in shock as her friend fell, all of her anger draining out of her. She knelt next to him and rolled him onto his back. His breathing was ragged, as though he had to fight for every gulp of air he took.”