Avery's breath hitched as the cold mountain air bit at her skin.

As she stepped from the reinforced carriage, the driver—a rugged Montgomery Enforcer—lowered his head. "Luna, the sky-spirits are restless. The mist is thin now, but the Great Storm will be upon the ridge within the hour. You should not linger."

Avery gave a short nod, pulling out her communication crystal. Her light-script flickered: Fear not. I only intend to share a few breaths with the spirit of Harrison. It will be brief.

Shielding herself with a heavy, fur-lined cloak, Avery ventured into the biting drizzle. The path to the High Cairn was slick with ancient moss and fresh...