"I'm still writing the ending," I whispered to the empty sky, my voice barely holding together against the damp, heavy air of the Dead Marshes.
"Well, I hope your handwriting is better than mine," Red said, her voice shaky as she wiped a smear of silver sand and swamp mud from her cheek. She was staring up at the moon—or where the moon used to be. The giant, glowing eye didn't blink. It didn't even seem to move, yet I felt its gaze like a physical weight pressing against the back of my neck. "Because right now, the sky looks like it's about to file a formal complaint against us."
"It's not the sky we need to worry about," Kaelen rumbled. He was standing at the edge of the causeway, his black sword held low, the dark mana still sizzling along the blade. He looked down at Cerberus, and for a second, even the Dark Wolf looked unnerved. "Ren. The dog. He's... he's got a lot of heads."
