The Summit gates slammed shut behind us with a finality that echoed through my spine. Warriors lined the walls, some glaring, some whispering, all watching Crescent Ridge pull away from the chaos we had just left behind. Talon drove the lead SUV, his shoulders tight, jaw clenched. The others followed close behind in a tight formation.
No one spoke for the first ten minutes.
The mountains rose around us, steep and jagged silhouettes against the morning sky. Thin fog threaded between the peaks like drifting smoke. My mark burned steadily beneath my sleeve, pulsing with a rhythm that followed no natural pace. Each pulse tugged my wrist in the same direction.
A pull. A guiding tether. A magnet.
Whatever waited in the old valley wanted me to find it, and the shard wanted to lead me straight
