Chapter 158

Kaelen

The sky was red.

Not the red of sunset, not the soft smear of a closing day—but the violent, pulsing red of something being born too fast. Something being torn open.

We were too late.

The edge of the canyon seethed with smoke and swirling wind. Magic howled through the gorge like a beast unchained. The leyline pulsed so hard beneath my boots I felt it rattle up my spine, shaking the bones o