Nothing visible happened, and if he were human, Chris would have probably never sensed it, but being a Hach, he felt the air vibrate and every little magical particle exploding from the inside out. Both Winter and him felt the boost of the inMagic explosion with such a force that Chris stumbled forward, catching Winter's shoulder. She pressed a hand to her chest with a groan.

It felt as if it was blowing up his mind, his ears and the space behind his eyes. The Stone around his neck burned his skin like a small flame and he had to take it out in fear that it would wound him. The roaring of the snow trolls filled the air around them and a few windows were opened with a slam by disturbed residents.

It felt like hours, yet when it ended, Chris realized it had been no more than three seconds.

The boy's sight focused and oxygen filled his lungs again. He was still holding on to Winter, trying to make sure that she didn’t tumble over. She was shivering. Chris noticed that he was, too. He didn’t concentrate on that and asked:

“What... was...? You did feel it, didn't you? I mean--”

“Probably a little stronger than you, yes,” she replied through rasps of breath.

“What in the Globe’s name--”

“Miss Winter!” Ian was running towards them, face distorted with worry. “Miss Winter, are you all right?”

“Yes, yes.” She took another long breath and waved him off gently.

“And I'm fine too, thanks,” Chris noted dryly, noticing that both of the Witches were short of breath and their faces seemed drained of color. If his mind had not been clouded, Chris might have wondered how Ian had gotten to them so quickly – a question he only asked himself much later. Right now, though, his main concern was trying to pinpoint why the inMagic explosion had given him such a horribly familiar gut feeling. Whatever the reason, the fear that he’d lose his composure only added to his tension.

Wobbling and trying to keep a straight line, the three reached the stairs up to the docks. Winter stopped for a few seconds to catch her breath again before climbing up. In the meantime, Chris had the time to remember exactly what the explosion had reminded him of, and had halted in favor of keeping himself under control. It had been years, and yet…

“Hawks, go, or move out of the way.”

He turned to see Ian tapping his foot behind him. Apparently Chris had blocked the way to the stairs. He mumbled an apology and, after a moment of consideration, propped himself down on the bottom step.

“Ian, um…”

Doing this embarrassed him, but it was better than the alternative.

“Could you... tell me I'm not dying?”

“Why in the Globe would you be dying?”

“Just-- please?”

Chris was carefully focusing his eyes on the silhouette of a ship in the distance. Cold chills ran down his spine and his breathing grew choppier.

“You don't seem to be. Very pale.”

Chris didn’t hear the rest of Ian’s response, but somehow his voice seemed to draw his attention away from the present. He nodded along until Ian left.

Chris closed his eyes and recited the day's date and presumed hour.

Long way ahead.