The whisper lingered long after the flames had gone out.
The air was still heavy with the taste of silver and ash, and smoke coiled like ghosts between the trees. Even the wind moved differently now, hesitantly, as if it was afraid of the ground below. Every sound seemed far away.
I stood with Thorn in the remains of the clearing. The forest had burned to ashes. However, beneath the soot, faint veins of silver continued to glow, pulsing in rhythm like the heartbeat of something that refused to die.
Thorn whispered, "He's still alive." He felt the tremor beneath his hand as it touched the ground. "I can feel him through the bond. It’s faint, but there.”
My throat constricted. "Then we go after him."
He looked at me, eyes dim gold in the gloom. “If we go after him now, it won’t be him w
