The wind settled on the peak as if a hand had pressed it flat.
Tadewi tipped her chin toward the clouds. "Call your pack," she said, all elder and edge. "Bring them up."
I turned toward the lower sprawl of floating stone, cupped my hands, and sent a flare of white fire into the air—a muted blossom that wouldn't set anything alight, just a signal.
They came quick.
Muir crested the rise first, blue scales skimming mist as he landed; a breath later Revik climbed down Muirs leg with the girl cradled against his chest, a blanket wrapped snug around her shoulders. Her hair—the thick ink-black of the sky-tribes—was neatly braided, the end tied with a strip of Revik's sash. Muir shifted, boots crunching dirt. The girl saw me and tightened her grip on Revik's collar, small fingers white-knuckle
