AVIONA'S POV
For a fleeting moment, I let myself believe the worst was behind us.
We had found the anchor—the tiny white flower nestled between the gnarled roots, impossibly untouched by the shifting forest.
Hope lifted in my chest. We were on the right path. Moving forward. Almost free of the Drift.
Then the ground moved.
Not just the trees, not the boulders—the ground itself shifted.
It rolled beneath me like a living thing, throwing me off balance. I gasped, stumbling as the world bucked again.
“Aviona!” King Faelan called out as he lurched toward me.
Then the earth vanished beneath my boots. And I fell.
Air whipped past me. My arms flailed, reaching—desperate for anything solid. Through the spinning haze, I saw King Faelan’s hand shooting toward me, fingers outstretched.
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