The industrial road between the Cinder-Reach hub and the Iron-Groves was a jagged scar across the earth. It was paved with cracked basalt and dusted with a perpetual layer of grey grit that blew in from the refinery chimneys to the south. There were no trees here, only the rusted skeletons of abandoned power-line pylons that hummed with a low, ghostly vibration in the wind.
Vane walked with a steady, rhythmic pace. Mara was draped over his shoulder, her small frame surprisingly light despite the weight of the situation. He had wrapped her in his spare traveling cloak to keep the soot from her lungs, but her head lolled with every step, her dark hair tangled and matted with the dust of the road.
