The leviathan crossed into open sky an hour after departure. The academy vanished into the thick cloud cover below. After that, there was only the ocean. It was dark, enormous, and terrifyingly empty. Faint stars were just beginning to prick through the horizon where the daylight had not fully surrendered.
Vane sat on the freezing upper deck with his back pressed against the vibrating iron hull. His spear lay flat beside him. The changing air pressure gnawed mercilessly at his fractured ribs. He welcomed the dull, grinding ache. It gave him something physical to focus on.
He had the communication crystal in his tight grip. He had been holding it since the carriage ride.
He slowly turned the smooth stone over in his palm. The acknowledgment pulses still glowed deep within its core. Two small, warm embers. The messages had arrived. They had been read.
He had not sent much. Just two short, desperate messages, hastily composed in the rattling dark while Ashe pretended to be asleep.
