And again.
Lyssena began to lose her sense of direction, for the cavern did not twist in sharp angles but in slow, curving bends that made it impossible to measure distance. The walls narrowed and widened unpredictably, at times pressing closer as though curious about her, at others opening into vast hollows where the darkness pooled thickly between stone pillars that rose like the trunks of ancient trees.
“Do you know where we’re going?” she asked, though she suspected the question was foolish.
Erevos glanced back at her, and even through the mask, she felt the weight of his amusement. Of course, he knew.
The cave floor shifted gradually beneath her covered feet, the stone giving way to a fine layer of dark sediment that gathered at the edges of her steps and then smoothed itself again. She slowed, crouching slightly, pressing her fingers into it.
It clung to her glove like ash.
But when she lifted her hand, it fell away without leaving residue. She straightened quickly, heart fluttering, both unsettled and delighted.
This cave was definitely not like the caves at her home.
The ceiling arched lower in one stretch, forcing Erevos to dip his head, though she suspected he did not need to, suspected he simply chose to.
They turned again.
Lyssena was certain now that if she tried to find her way back alone, she would wander endlessly until she forgot what she had been looking for.
“Are we close?” she asked, and only then did she notice that Erevos had stopped.
The cavern ahead brightened.
Not with light, but with absence of thickness, as though the darkness thinned into something translucent.
Erevos extended one hand behind him, not touching her, but close enough that she felt the suggestion of it. “Stay near me.”
Lyssena nodded, and the final bend opened.
This was where the cave ended.
Lyssena stepped out of stone and into something that felt both infinite and unfinished.
The first thing she noticed was what she did not feel.
There was no wind.
Her bodysuit did not stir. The air did not rustle the feathers on her mask or slip around her ankles. It simply held in stillness so complete that her own small movements felt almost loud. So she took another step.
The grass beneath her was similar to what she knew, though the blades were darker than anything she had ever seen. When she bent and brushed her fingers through it, the texture was cool and silky, each strand thin and perfectly formed, bending easily and then rising again without resistance.
It did not smell like grass.
It did not smell like anything.
It was unusual . . . not to smell a single thing, something that Lyssena could not imagine getting used to. What would it be like if she lived here for years?
Though she did smell the food Erevos cooked for her. Speaking of which . . . Lyssena turned to look at him. He was standing a few steps away from her, unmoving as usual.
He observed her, of that she was certain. He did so quite often, and she did not mind. Well, maybe she even enjoyed it a little more than a human should.
Lyssena decided it was not the time for lovey-dovey thoughts about her god, so she looked away, beyond the field stretched trees.
She walked toward the nearest one without asking permission.
Its trunk was the color of deep pomegranate, ridged and twisting upward into branches that spread wide but carried no fluttering leaves.
