Elias woke up choking.
Not coughing—choking. As if his lungs had forgotten the sequence required to pull air in.
His body jerked upright on instinct, spine bowing, hands scrabbling uselessly at the sheets. His first breath came sharp and thin, barely enough to register, and the second didn't come at all.
Panic hit fast and stupid.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and nearly blacked out.
The room tilted violently to the left, then snapped back, then tilted again, like it couldn't decide which way gravity was supposed to work.
His vision blurred, edges darkening. He braced one hand against the wall, fingers slipping on stone slick with sweat.
'Too far.'
The thought surfaced through the fog with horrible clarity.
Cassian was too far.
