We descend when our flyers can go no farther. We haven’t gone as far as I’d like, but there’s no choice. The soulbane drained them of energy.
Cendrion dips beneath the clouds. The comforting moonlight vanishes, and we’re drenched in icy condensation. Below the heavy cover, it’s drizzling.
“Because we d-didn’t have enough obstacles to deal with,” I mutter, wet and miserable.
Fyr’thal moves to lead the pack. It’s too dark to see any skylands, even with the nimbus of phoenix-light hazing the air. The wind batters us away from our northern bearing.
Asher fishes out a compass from his belt. He squints at it and groans. “It’s going haywire.”
Of course a compass will be useless amidst the forcemagic of the archipelago. Without stars or moons to guide us, we could be flying off-course. We cou
