65
Myla
Lincoln, Peli and I march over to the burned out pit that once held the so-called Golden Arbor. No matter what lands we visit, they all talk about this freaking tree with reverent tones.
I thought that was I got closer, maybe I’d pick up the vibe.
Not exactly.
It’s a nasty old black pit, that’s all. The Contagion took over the tree and marched off, end of story.
Woo hoo.
Things don’t get better as time passes. The sun rises in a cloudy sky. It’s a Purgatory kind of day. Back home, the most we ever see is the halo of a sun behind a light gray cloud. The whole Purgatory vibe isn’t helping this, either.
Lincoln and I share a dry look. Both of us raise our brows with an unspoken question. How long do we wait?
After all, I wouldn’t put it past Aldred to just make us stand aroun
