The night spread wide above me, endless and dark and alive, the sky a vast ocean of velvet studded with stars. The moon hung full and impossibly bright, its face glowing like polished silver, its light spilling in great ribbons across the valley below. It touched everything—the ridges of the mountains, the high pine crowns, the faint mist that drifted across the clearing. Even the earth under my feet glimmered, as if the light had seeped into the soil itself to bear witness.
Behind me, the fires of Crimson Fang still burned. Orange and gold tongues of flame flickered and cracked, throwing sparks high into the night air like tiny comets. Every gust of wind caught them, lifting them higher, scattering them until it seemed the stars themselves were raining down. The drums had quieted. The ho
