LYRA

Morning on the third day arrived with ominous clouds rolling across the sky, thick and dark in a way that promised more than just rain. The air felt heavy and charged, making the hair on my arms stand up even before I heard the first distant rumble of thunder echoing through the valley.

"Storm's coming," Cassia observed, her eyes tracking the clouds with the kind of attention that suggested she'd grown up watching weather patterns. "A bad one by the look of it, we need shelter and we need ...