The miners wouldn't stop whispering. Auryn heard them from behind. low voices, nervous laughter that died down too quickly.
Twenty men who'd dug graves, foundations and wine cellars across Aurelia without complaint, now riding like they were heading toward execution instead of employment.
He didn't blame them. The border was visible ahead and it was everything but right.
Green grass stopped. It just stopped, like someone had drawn a line with a ruler and declared that life ended here.
Beyond it was gray soil, skeletal trees with branches that looked more like claws reaching upward, the air felt heavier even from a distance.
Lyra rode beside Auryn. She'd been quiet since they left the gates at dawn, amber eyes tracking the landscape as it shifted from farmland to this oddity.
Her silver hair caught morning light and he noticed she'd braided it tighter than usual. More attentively, ready for work.
"The locals are watching us," she said.
