"He's not moving! I don't feel him anymore!"
Magnolia's voice tore through the air like a lightning strike, echoing across the barren edge of the mountain pass. Her hands, slick with blood and trembling from the cold, pressed against the rocks as she scrambled to the edge of the ravine where Beckett had fallen. Her breath caught as she screamed again, her voice breaking, wild and raw, the taste of desperation bitter on her tongue.
Savannah reached her first, grabbing Magnolia's arm before she could dive into the dark, jagged crevice below. "We don't know what's down there," Savannah said, her voice low but shaking. "You can't, "
"Let go!" Magnolia snarled, and it wasn't just fear in her tone, it was something ancient, something primal. Her eyes glinted gold for a heartbeat, then faded. She ripped herself free, dropping to her knees at the edge.
"I felt him," she whispered. "His flame. And then it blinked out."
