By nightfall the mountains we seek to cross loom. Tomorrow we will find the hidden pass. Joseph, it seems, knows exactly where it is. His map led Lyra and Hanna to it, he claims.
Of the days left to us, we have less than three. I am not alone in giving thanks for Horin’s path. Had he not helped, we would now be looking at these ancient rocks from afar.
The orb in the heavens is massive. It shines brighter than a full moon, and tonight’s sunset did not diminish its glow. It is both blue and yellow simultaneously, although everyone seems to have a different view. Some say it is green, others amber, some silver and yet others claim it is pink. It is about perception.
Will it impact with Massin? That is the real question we seek an answer to.
I am not alone in praying for it to pass us by. While I have prompted, shoved, led and exhorted for reaching the sanctuary lying before us, it is true my confidence is based more on old tales and ancient legends than it is on fact. I hope Arc will prove sanctuary; I do not know if it is able to. If the rock does swing wide, we have before us a haven, a chance to begin a new civilisation. A part of me is cynical, however. I wonder if we will make different choices.
Damin shakes me from sleep in the dead of night. “Mirlin, a host approaches.”
I peer up to see Horin with him, orb in hand. “Where?”
Beginning to smile, I struggled up. “Must be the marchers from the west.” Hastening to the edge of our sprawling camp, I attempt to pierce the darkness with my added sight.
“Mirlin!” a voice shouts.
Punching the air, I shout back, “Hoy, Kay! Welcome!”