The fog is infinite and absolute, and has a muffling quality. We’re clumped together again, holding onto each other. Visibility is so poor that anyone could get lost if they stray from the party. Our voices sound faraway when we speak, like we’re screaming to one another through bulletproof glass. It’s enough to renew my shivers, though the extreme cold of the ice continent has abated.
After what seems an eternity, the fog thins. I hurry forward, encouraged. My arms—one linked with Asher, the other with Valen—throb. My head spins. But the end is in sight.
The world darkens as the fog dissipates. I become aware that the ground is gently sloping upward. It’s composed of black granite sprinkled with iridescent flecks of minerals and magic.
“Should everything be darkening like this?” Asher
