Mia grew dizzy under the weight of the magic around her. She might have fainted dead away if she weren't already leaning heavily on Ford, with the chill air fanning her face to keep her alert.
Her anxiety bloomed as they moved closer to Uncle Trace, and so her magic became as disjointed and scattered as her thoughts.
She could see the entire path to her uncle, but her mind was plagued with images of the sources of each sound that alarmed her enough to search for it.
And so, as they moved onward, she grew more and more distressed, needing focus more than ever and yet, finding it elusive. She strained to hold her fraying thoughts together.
The road ahead was sharper in her mind than in front of her eyes, with every speck of dust, every facet of each jewel in extreme detail.
Moaning, she lifted her palm to her forehead to try and keep the splitting headache from fracturing her mind.