The fog shifted, Lyra stood at the edge of the bayou standing straight and her fire calm under her skin. The person that stood before her was no longer just a shadow. She could clearly see him now, close enough that she could hear his breathing, close enough that her instincts were screaming familiarity.

He lowered his hood slowly.

Lyra forgot how to breathe.

The man’s face was older than she expected, he had wrinkles of hardship but the shape of him, his eyes, the set of his jaw, the ...