Elijah woke up with his muscles screaming for attention, and not the pleasant kind.
His legs felt like jelly, his sore back strained against his will to stand straight.
Groaning, he looked toward the window. The sun was gone; evening had long settled in.
The room was a disaster. Water everywhere. Even his mattress sagged under the damp from melted ice.
The incense had burned down to half of its original length. It was still enough for a couple more uses. Though Eli hoped he didn't have to.
With everything that had gone down at the Red Shore, he had expected the internet to be ablaze with speculation.
Yet when he sat with a steaming cup of coffee, all he found was a bland headline: Ceremony a Success, Construction to Begin Soon.
Well, technically, it was a success.
Spirits now roamed freely on other lands, and the resentment they'd left behind had nearly frozen him from the inside out.
Bearing all of that in his own body had left the island cleaner than ever.
