Surfacing.

He still couldn’t see, but now he could feel the weight of the magic binding him. Complex and powerful, the idea he needed to fight it would have been overwhelming if the thought alone hadn’t been such a victory.

What he could do was listen to the sound of other bodies present around him. Soft breathing, rustles of movement. No one was speaking. They were all as trapped as he was.

Peyter was close. Samir knew the rhythm of his breaths. If they were going to fight, two would be better than one. Could he pull Peyter out with him?

Samir tried to speak, to shape his lips and tongue around words that would help. He needed to tell Peyter about the cards. If Peyter, too, could find that focus, maybe…

But it was too much. Samir didn’t have that kind of control back. Not yet. And now he was falling again.

Still, that had been something. That had been more. Samir was remembering, regaining himself. A tiny, struggling step, but it had been a step forward.

This time, when he sank, he didn’t go as deep. The surface was a little closer than it had been before. This time, when he stumbled and his hand touched the stone, the knife was there waiting for him. He traced the shape of it with a fingertip, comforted.