Wonder and joy bloomed on Brighid’s face. My fear melted away.
This woman could match my heresy—perhaps even surpass it.
Should an Inquisitor learn of me, it would not be from Brighid's lips.
“Come on.” She rose. “I don’t think they’ll hurt us.”
“Nothing here wants to hurt me,” I said, following her. “Though, I suppose you know that.”
“Yes, I . . . I don’t know why.” Brighid found Liam’s trail again and set off toward the south
I craned my neck, watching the majestic creatures. One looked in our direction, eyes glowing in the darkness.
It huffed, making a sound not unlike one of Aenir’s elks. Then, it returned to grazing.
Had my brother not been in the worst danger imaginable, I might have smiled.
“Shit,” Brighid cursed, spinning.
“What?” I asked.
“I’ve lost the trail. The ground’s firmer here.” She pulled her hair back. “I can’t see a thing, either.”
The world behind the wall was dark, but I could see everything around us—every rock, every blade of grass.
Brighid stepped closer to me. “Your bird. Call it.”
“I didn’t get the impression he answered to me.”
“Has he not arrived to alert you to danger? Mine has aided me many times.”
Lifting my eyes toward the sky, I envisioned the strange crow with a missing talon. No one else had seen him. The bird was a phantom, arrived to haunt my world the day before it fell.
I cared more for my brother’s life than my own. If the phantom bird was truly my intuition—or something else watching over me—I needed it now.
A faint clack drew my eyes up. The crow perched on one of the floating obelisks, peering down.
Brighid paid him no heed, oblivious to his presence. With a flap, the bird took off, deeper south.
“This way.” I chased after him. Lifting her skirts, Brighid followed me.
My fingers trembled, and my chest ached. What had come over my brother?
Nobody knew anything about this place. Travel past the wall was forbidden.
What would I find?
A thick wall of trees rose to meet us, and I dove through their boughs. Pinpricks of mist danced through their branches like sprites, their touch cold as ice. I could hear water running somewhere nearby, a brook or stream.
Then, light. White and pure, just ahead. Fire.
I skidded to a stop at the edge of a deep chasm. My boot kicked a pebble into the gorge, and I heard it tumble into the deep. Brighid doubled over beside me, catching her breath. Her eyes focused on something to our right.
“Man-made,” she whispered.
I followed her gaze. A bridge extended across the chasm, built from onyx stone. The fire I’d seen burned at the top of its supporting pillars, where iron-wrought lanterns housed white flame.
Running a hand along the ancient stone, I gazed into the white fire.
