The starlight causeway rang like hollow glass beneath their boots as the twelve ascenders left the ruined customs platform behind.
Behind them, the cold abyss was silent. The fifty bailiffs had long since vanished into the cloud banks, leaving behind only the smoldering carcass of the brass chariot.
Up ahead, the First Pill-Moon dominated the firmament.
The celestial orb was vast, glowing with pale jade luminescence. Ribbons of emerald spirit-light coiled around its equator, feeding endless terraces of fragrant herbs and silver-roofed pagodas.
Beneath the moon, a sea of liquid alchemy clouds churned in slow, lazy circles. The clouds glowed in shades of violet and amber, exhaling the sweet scent of distilled herbs.
“Keep your formation tight,” Sera Thorne commanded, her spear resting against her shoulder. “We are on their territory now. Every secondary post will have sentries.”
Kaelen Vance walked at the center of the group, his cotton bathrobe fluttering in the wind.
He held the octagonal nephrite pass he had confiscated from the Tax Warden. Whenever an automated ward pulsed from the causeway’s iron pylons, Kaelen tapped the tablet against his palm.
