The stench of burnt rot clung to the air, thick enough to coat the tongue. Even the wind seemed reluctant to move, as if afraid of carrying the scent too far. Smoke drifted lazily over the blackened remains of the nest, curling through jagged ribs of charred wood and stone. The ground still hissed in places, tiny threads of heat escaping like the last breaths of dying monsters.

Celeste’s boots sank into the soft ash as she picked her way through the wreckage. Every step sent up a puff of ...