They moved at dawn.
The fire had been cold for hours, and the ground was still damp from a night mist that hadn’t yet burned off. The forest ahead stretched like a maze—dense with thick roots, sloping rocks, and the occasional shimmer of a ley-line thread glowing faintly underfoot.
Thalen led the way, his hand never far from the hilt of his curved blade. He said little, eyes scanning the horizon for the next ley-line crossing marked on the Vault’s map. It was said to run beneath the stone arches ahead, just past a set of moss-covered cairns and through a thinning patch of pine.
Caitlyn walked quietly beside Damien, her small steps keeping pace without effort. She hadn’t spoken much since the dream. Neither had Mandy. But her grip on Caitlyn’s hand had never loosened.
As the sun climbed
