They didn't waste another heartbeat.
Ilyrana gave Luke a single, sharp nod, and the two of them pulled back from the ridge. Words weren't needed—not with the black shapes prowling so close. The heat of the day slammed into them again as they darted out from the meagre shade, each footstep kicking up soft plumes of sand. The blazing sunlight was almost painful after crouching under the ridge, searing their eyes and tightening their throats, but they didn't slow.
Their destination was clear: Vartha.
Luke's lungs were already screaming from the earlier sprint, but adrenaline dulled the pain, pushing him forward. Sweat streaked down his neck and soaked his robe, every motion feeling heavier than it should have. Ilyrana ran slightly ahead, silent and sure-footed despite the shifting sand, her braid whipping behind her like a comet's tail.
