The tundra was endless.
Wind carved white ridges into the landscape like frozen waves. Trees became bones. Footsteps vanished seconds after falling.
Vera wrapped another scarf across her mouth. “How far until the Veil?"
Reed checked the compass. It spun uselessly in his palm. “No clue. This thing's broken."
“No," Vera said. “The Veil breaks it. Magnetic resonance."
He frowned. “You've been here before?"
“Only in Carlisle's notes."
Reed exhaled. “That's comforting."
---
By dusk, the caravan halted at a jagged ravine.
They built fires behind stone outcrops, burning wax-wood and dried moss. The warmth barely touched their bones.
One of the elders from Grayridge, a quiet woman named Mira, handed Vera a steaming cup. “You don't sleep much."
Vera took it. “Habit."
“You listen in you
