The Grey Lands were aptly named.
They weren't black and white. They were a flat, featureless expanse of ash and mist where color went to die. The sky was a low, oppressive ceiling of clouds that trapped the silence like a scream under glass.
I had been walking for a day. Or maybe a week. Time didn't move right here.
I stopped by a twisted, petrified tree that looked like a hand clawing out of the ground. I checked my compass. The needle was spinning lazily in circles.
"Great," I muttered. "Lost in limbo."
I reached for the bond. I needed to check on him. I needed to know if the distance was working.
I lowered the mental wall just a crack.
A wave of panic hit me.
It wasn't mine. It was his.
Lilura?
His mental voice was weak, thready, but frantic.
Where are you? I can't feel you.
