There was no glyph swirling around his feet, no tendrils of light wafting off of him. It was just a man, standing at the side of her bed, looking around in wonder. He looked even sharper, more solid, almost like she could… Vi’s hand moved, drawn on instinct. It rose, reaching out to what had been thin air moments before. But her fingers landed on him, feather-light. She pressed further, her fingers stretching up his forearm. They spread across the fabric of his coat, feeling every bump and groove of the intricate embroidery. He was there. It was not pulsing magic, or warmth, or light. It was a
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Vi summoning Taavin but being able to touch him for the first time
