Oliver barreled through the trees, glancing occasionally through the canopy of leaves to check on the stars’ positions. Pink light was beginning to creep up from the horizon, dimming the celestial guides above. The blushing sky seemed to melt above him.
He did not know how long he had been tied up in that tent. ‘Too long,’ he thought to himself, casting another anxious look at the sky. Oliver raced as though to beat the morning, running through the dimly lit jungle as fast as he could.
Zarine galloped along beside him, keeping pace easily. Ordinarily, she faded to mist whenever she did not need anything from Oliver. But not tonight. The Demon ran beside him, a wolf as big as a horse, her eyes bright and her body quivering with energy.
Oliver could feel it, too. The dark wind was gusting beneath his skin, power waiting to be unleashed. He thought of what had happened to the Adjudicator.
‘No,’ he corrected himself, ‘what I did to him.’