The crystal above her flared - not with color this time, but with shadow. Deep, purple-black tendrils danced inside it, as if reacting to a different note in the melody. A counterpoint. An anchor.
Emma touched the moss with her fingers. It welcomed her. Soft, warm, pulsing.
"I don't know if I want this," she whispered.
Rose sat up, her hair cascading down her back. "Then offer what you do want."
Emma's lips parted. Her breath came slow. She sat down, legs folded beneath her. "I want to stay awake. I want to remember who I was before. I want to feel without losing my mind."
Lucy knelt behind her and began to undo the simple tie holding Emma's dress. The fabric slipped off her shoulders like a sigh, revealing the elegant strength of her back, the gentle curve of her waist. She gasped when Lucy's mouth touched her shoulder, but she didn't move away.
"Then let us hold that with you," Lucy whispered.