“I’m worried. You’ve been spending a lot of time gazing at the Midnight Spire lately. Is something wrong?”
I stop on my way out the door. “No, I’m fine,” I lie. I scratch at my arms absent-mindedly and try to control the writhing things under my skin. “I just like it is all.”
I do like it, but that’s not the reason. The Emanations—that maternal hum from within the Spire—are all that calms the hissing, crawling swarm inside me.
She doesn’t need to know how far along my Spire Sickness is. I can keep it controlled. Pretend to still be human.
Excitement builds. Each step brings the Spire—and those gathered to bask in it—closer, the Emanations creeping into the edge of perception.
We just need more time with the Spire. Need to join with our siblings. Soon we will be complete. She doesn’t need to know until then.