already finished his wave and was rubbing the blue-stone between his hands. Symbols responded, pulsing blue beneath his feet, spread across the entire step, one for each flagstone. “And there you hide,” Snow said. He moved the blue-stone away from the centre, glancing at the sky. The next wave was already falling. “It’s a map,” Snow continued. “And I think I know what it means.”
Never was rolling his shoulders. “Hurry.”
Snow’s head jerked up. “Give me a little more time – draw them in and finish them with crimson-fire, can you manage it?”
“For how long?”
“Two waves.”
Never frowned but gave a short nod, slicing both palms with his Quisoan blade. Doubtless he could sear every guide that appeared until his body was drained of blood but how long could he use the fire and still survive the
