The sun dwelled far from Vera and her siblings as they traveled up the steepest run of Bathnat Pass. Dirt on the path felt like hard stone -- how little it yielded beneath their boots! Above them, red-hatted summits peeled back layers of mist and cloud and glared sternly at them. Vera did not believe the poems read at Armas' temples about the majesty of mountains -- the ledges wore sharp armor and what little flowers bloomed by the road often shriveled and died. The Fire Peak Mountains were only concerned with the stars or what hammers resided in their depths. Vera didn't like the look of the peaks, but their appearance also lent her bits of the late evening sky…

Better than darkness.

( One guide led... )