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Chapter 312: Dawn of the Longest Day
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... was like stepping off a plane into a different country. The air was different, the smells were different, the sun was a different colour. The only thing that was the same was the white-knuckled grip I had on Artemis and Autumn’s hands.
My knees buckled and gave out, and I crashed down to one knee, my hand slipping from Autumn’s and landing on the soft, mossy forest floor/sinking into the brackish swamp water, a small puff of powder dusting my face/filthy water splattering my cheek.
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