The birds above look ready to pluck an eye out. The waves below look fit to turn a body into a bag of pudding. The salt in the air is sharp. It's only by chance that I hear her, struggling, at the bottom of the piece of rock sitting in the middle of the sea around me. Tris Prior.

"Tris!" Can I make it down to her? I can't leave her there. This is the Fade. This is a nightmare. But nightmares can still do their damage, she's still suffering down there. Not in body, but in mind.

"Can you hear me? It's Dorian!"

I can only pray that she does. The deep rumbling of the water whirling and crashing against the rock is deafening, the inaudible parts of the sound still felt, pounding against my chest. The sea is powerful and hurling itself against her back.