A Symphony of Frost and Flame
His heart pounded fast in fear, thinking of the worst possibilities.
Raeherys commanded Myrdin to speed up as he glimpsed the islands far ahead. It seemed like a catastrophe, but it wasn’t. He found a few black ships, destroyed on the shores, burning, along with some fallen dragons and dwarves—their dead bodies lying everywhere in the sand. The trees had been taken down, and the sea waves turned red as the wild tracks of blood and ash marked the shores. Wooden planks, oars, barrels—all were floating by the bloody sea.
“No …” Raeherys wanted to shout, but his breath was caught up in his throat. It was killing him inside. He couldn’t find the words as his mouth trembled.
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