Chapter 9
The buzz of a telepathic transmission was at first akin to static, an irritant Clay wanted to brush away. He hovered on the edge of consciousness, parched, seared, and desiccated, clinging to life by little more than a thread of will.
::Clay! Aron! Answer me.::
Somehow, they managed to merge minds again and shape a response. ::We are here, lost on the brink of hell. Without water and aid, we will never survive, much less find and seal the master gate we were conveyed here to destroy.::
The time between each reply and response frustrated both ends of the conversation. Finally, Balinor’s distant mental voice came again. ::I know of the place. I am not sure I can get there, but I’ll try, bringing water and shielding garments. Try to hold my image in your minds to give me a key t
