The drumming from the Cradle of Stone was a sound that entered through the bones, not the ears. It was a deep, resonant thrum that vibrated up through the soles of their feet, a language of stone and patience that held no welcome. It was a sound that judged.
Ren kept his arm around Lyra, her weight a testament to the terrifying feat she had just performed. She had broadcast a memory to the land itself. The concept was so vast it made his own destructive power seem crude, like smashing a lock instead of finding the key. The awe he felt was tempered by a fresh, sharp fear. The Tribunal would have felt that. They would know, beyond any doubt, exactly what she was. And what she was capable of.
Kael finished tying a rough bandage around Anya’s bleeding arm. "Friendly lot, these Stonehides," h
