“I swear I’ll strangle the next one of you to suggest we make camp again. I’m fine.”
It’s been almost a full day since the incident with the fire practice, and Milo and Archie haven’t stopped worrying since. At one point, they were both so distracted, we nearly walked right into a werewolf den; at the last minute, Milo reached out, grabbed me, and yanked me back into the forest.
“How much longer are we going to be in the Realm of Darkness, anyway?” I ask them, squinting in the direction of the sun. At least I can see sunlight now. The further south we get, the longer the daylight lasts. But I can tell from the length of the nights that we still haven’t made it to the Realm of Light—that, and Milo’s constant mentions of Dark creatures’ habitats that we have to avoid.
“Only a day or two,”
