Catli’s paths along the mountain side were well worn after generations of other Koah walking the same ways. The one he was on took him down and around the great bubbling crater at the top, over to the field of steaming holes in the rock on the north side.
There was some stunted bushes and scrub grass clumped together all over the place. Blue Hearts, on the other hand, grew in neat, almost square patches close to the hot vents. One day Catli was going to ask an Earth Singer why the flowers liked it up on Toa. Plants and volcanoes generally didn’t mix well.
The hair at the back of his neck stood on end as he rounded the sandy path. It almost felt as though the power current spiked, like Toa’s immense reservoir of energy was being used. Catli was running in the next step, magic cast out to
