Kell pulls a heavy rectangle of what feels like metal and glass from the bag and leaves it on the table, staring at the chips when Sirius' nudges them forward. Feeling numb, he lifts one and ignores the heat that burns his fingers, pushing half into his mouth and biting down. It is, admittedly, delicious, salty and hot and a little bit crisp, but somehow it adds to the permanence Kell can suddenly feel settling over him.

Shelter, a place to sleep, food - can he really be expected to stay here? It's a mistake, he knows it is, but Kell feels panic clawing up from deep within him, and with it, childish tears. Sanct, what if he can't get back to Rhy? It's impossible. He's Antari. No world can hold him.

"Has anyone left here?" he asks Sirius, struggling through the rest of his chip.