Lyra's POV
"So what do we do now, Draziel? How do we get away from this place?" I said, my eyes picking out the almost absent clouds in the very blue sky above.
My head rested on his arm—hard yet tender—not like a pillow, but almost.
I adjusted my head on his arm to feel more of the blend of tenderness and hardness below my head. My hair spread over much of his chest and arm.
I wanted us to stay like this forever—sleeping and waking up in each other's arms and in a world where only we exist. But I had lived through 177 lifetimes to know death lives everywhere. Even in a realm as beautiful and serene as this, death could just be the very air we breathe in or the very grass we lie on. Death could be anything, and death could be everything.
"I don't know, Lyra," Draziel answered. His voice was distant. "I don't know what caused the black void that brought us here, so I can't get my head around how to get us away from here."
