The cold was the first thing Lyra felt.
In the Ash-Lands, the temperature plummeted at dawn as the volcanic vents pulled the heat back into the earth. The furs Valerius had draped over them were thick, but they couldn't replace the scorching warmth of his body. She shifted, her muscles screaming in protest. Every inch of her felt tender, a map of the previous night’s intensity written in bruises and the lingering scent of smoke.
Valerius was already awake. He stood near the mouth of the cave, silhouetted against the grey, hazy light. He was fully dressed in his leather under-armor, his hands steady as he sharpened his obsidian blade with a whetstone. The rhythmic shink-shink-shink was the only sound in the cavern.
He didn't turn around, but his voice cut through the silence. "You’re
