In book four of the Torrent Skies Saga, Kryrial is scouring the lands, tormenting not only the people of his kingdom but those outside of it. His reach is nearly as vast as his ability.
Lodyne continues her insistence that she is the purpose of Kat...
Lugaria hiked through the snow, his mouth set in a hard line. The night was bitter, and the snow heavy with all the moisture it contained. Early snows were always unpleasant. More like a thick and miserable rain that seeped down to your bones and left you aggravated.
Agrata hiked ahead, at a quick but easily maintainable pace that he seemed to have perfected. His head turned and his eyes scanned diligently as they followed Katerin's scattered tracks.
It had taken longer than Lugaria wanted to admit to find where she had gone, and he still thought it was a pointless endeavor. She was not one to act without thought, and if she was sneaking away from Fykes in the night, it was likely only because of the odor his feet produced. She was loyal. He knew that much. Loyal and stubborn and nosy... Nitwit.
Though, Agrata had argued with him, using Typhon's confusion over her quick departure as a solid excuse. He insisted that she had seemed out of sorts, and Lugaria believed that Agrata could read people like books. He had a knack for it—one honed over years of trust issues. If he said she was off, Lugaria could bet all his gold that she was, no matter how much he disliked the thought of it.
So he trudged onward, some small part of him curious what he would find, another just a little worried he was involving himself in something he did not want to be part of.
Cresting a small hill, a fire lit the night in the distance. Some small, surely dilapidated farm house had caught ablaze in the night. Before he could do much more than begin an internal rant about how people really needed to sweep their chimneys more often, Agrata ran for the small building. It seemed Katerin's tracks moved right for it.
Following, he found that it was no inferno, but no campfire, either. He cursed and moved closer, only pausing to take stock of the damage to the buildings and possible cause of the fire. Most of the exterior of the fire was fighting the wet of the weather, but inside was so hazed with smoke he could make nothing out, aside from crackling embers and shadow. It had started inside, and once again his thoughts moved back to the chimney.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Agrata pulled his undershirt over his face and dropped into a crouch, looking at the bottom of the door. There was an ample gap, allowing air through, and he took a relieved breath. He kicked open the partly unhinged door, thinking better of using his hands. It might not explode, but it could still burn him. The smoke that billowed forth caught in his throat, leaving him gasping, as he did his best to scan the small cabin over. Most of the interior walls were falling over, held by only the weight of the roof, and its thicker posts.
Something glinted metal in the firelight, but he had no time to check what it was, as the fire had weakened a beam enough so that the little cabin sagged with a jarring motion.
Flame, shadows, and smoke dominated his vision but he felt that Katerin was here. It was was a feeling of dread that would have overwhelmed him, if he had not tucked it away so meticulously in the back of his mind, in favor of a cold focus.
