Amiya's eyes widened.
She glanced at the map, then at their surroundings, then back to the map. Her hands trembled slightly as she traced routes with her finger.
This section should be straightforward according to Saint Lucian's vision-created map. But the reality before them bore no resemblance to the parchment's markings.
She tried overlaying what she'd memorized with what she saw. Attempted to calculate the shifts' patterns to predict where paths would open. Her mind raced through possibilities, running through navigational techniques Vlad had taught her.
Nothing worked.
The roots moved without pattern, or if a pattern existed, it operated on logic beyond her ability to decipher. Each time she thought she'd identified a route, it sealed before they could reach it. New pathways opened that shouldn't exist according to the map's layout.
