The peace of the floating island was a lie. Vane knew this.
Silence on Zenith was just a deep breath before the scream.
He crouched in the backyard garden of Villa 1. The soil was cold against his fingertips. Mara knelt beside him. She watched his hands with the intensity of a bomb disposal technician.
Vane pointed to a cluster of petals.
"These are Cerulean Nightshades," Vane said. His voice was low. "They are mana-sensitive. If you grab them like a handful of dirt, they wilt. You have to be gentle. Pretend the flower is made of glass."
Mara reached out. Her small hand hovered over the blue petals. She frowned. The concept of gentle was foreign to Oakhaven survivors. In the slums, you grabbed what you could before someone broke your fingers.
She touched the petal. It shivered.
Then the noise started.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
