The path east of the ridge grew narrower the farther we walked, swallowed by trees older than anything I had ever seen. Their trunks twisted skyward like gnarled arms, bark etched in natural patterns that looked too deliberate to be accidents. The air tasted different here. Thicker. Charged. Like it held memories.
Hazel paused, pressing a hand against one of the trunks. Her fingers trembled slightly, though she tried to hide it. “We are close. The pulse here is heavier than it was before. The ruins are ahead.”
Zack limped behind her, favoring his injured leg. He refused help, insisting he could walk. I understood that stubbornness. We were all hanging on by threads.
My heart had not stopped racing since Sage vanished. Every step felt like I was walking away from her instead of toward he
