Hana turned away from her mates, her bare feet silent against the hard, red dirt as she walked toward the edge of the cliff.
Now that the Falcons had moved back, they could finally go deeper to see the crates.
The air settled—but not peacefully.
No one spoke as they moved. It was rather too awkward to say.
Hana was in the front. The wind climbed up the cliffside, tugging lightly at her hair, carrying the faint scent of dust and something… older.
Behind her, she could feel the shift in the group.
Caspian's rage hadn't vanished. It simmered, heavy and watchful, his eyes never leaving Kulu as if waiting for a moment to burn his feathers to a crisp.
Raiden's silence pressed in from the other side, sharp and unreadable, but he kept his eyes on Kulu just as Caspian did.
And Kulu…
She didn't need to turn to know he was following with his feathers dropped and a look of uncertainty in his eyes.
