The marsh surrendered to firmer ground as Apollo stepped from the final patch of soggy reeds onto blessed dry earth.
Morning sunlight poured over him like warm honey, seeping into his chilled bones and easing the persistent ache in his veins.
After days of wilderness, the warped marsh with its ancient spirits, the darkness of the underground temple, the frantic escape through fetid tunnels, the simple pleasure of solid ground beneath his feet felt like redemption.
"Do you smell that?" Nik asked, his face lifting toward the gentle breeze. His eyes, bloodshot from lack of sleep, suddenly widened with childlike delight.
