The giant shadow hand did not strike to kill. It moved with a terrifying, precise gentleness, wrapping its dark fingers entirely around the heavy wool servant's cloak Lin Wan wore. With a brutal, casual jerk from the shore, the spatial anchor snapped backward, pulling her straight out of Wei Xiang's secure grip.
Rip.
The fabric of her gray dress tore under the sudden strain. Lin Wan felt her fingers slip from Wei Xiang's green collar, the warm pine-and-earth scent of her friend instantly replaced by the bitter, freezing smell of dark ozone and winter frost. She was flying backward through the air, her short, chopped hair whipping across her face as the river below became a dizzying blur of gray and white.
"Lin Wan!" Wei Xiang's scream echoed from the center of the canyon.
Without her weight to hold him back, his body crashed heavily onto the far rocky bank, his shoulder slamming against a sharp stone ridge with a loud, sickening *crack*.
