Twenty-Seven
There were shades wandering about in the flat, wide expanse between Haven and the trees, but so far none of them had given Brice any trouble. A few looked up when he crept past, keeping as close as he could to the damp metal of the dome, but they didn’t move towards him.
The rain came down, and over the rush of the wind he could hear it pounding the trees. Brice wondered how many shades still hid in the forest. If he still had his lenses and filters, would he see them? Or were the majority of the monsters either in the gardens or in Haven itself?
Maybe the forest was the safest place to be.
He rubbed his arm, where he’d been bitten. It throbbed, but so far it looked like any other kind of wound—raw and bloody, but with none of the hardening of the skin he’d seen in Catha
