"Then we stop losing," I said, my voice hardening. I walked over to Zephyros, who was breathing steadily now, though his silver scales were still dull from the ordeal. "We can't stay here. The Abyssal rot in this air will eventually start to bypass even my healing if we linger. We need to move to a neutral ground where we can plan."
I looked at them. "We still have the connection to the Ember. We will try to broadcast a signal. Don't look for words, just look for the heat of their cores. If Zarathorak or the others are still fighting, they'll leave a mark on the ley lines."
Ingi let out a low, guttural grunt of agreement, his massive golden form shifting as he prepared to move. "The Ember is faint, but it is not extinguished. If they still breathe, we will find them."
"But first," I said, looking at the wounded Zephyros and the physically drained Zephyrion, "we leave this hellhole. We need a sanctuary where the shadows of the marsh can't follow."
