There was more movement under the blowing snow.
Something long and low slid along a frozen riverbed, too far under the ice to see clearly. It turned the water black above it as it passed.
Sera didn't move. Her eyes stayed on the dividing line ahead where the sky looked different.
The wind changed first.
Cold rolled off the north behind them, the kind that scoured skin and didn't even stop at bone.
Ahead, the air turned warmer by degrees. Snow stopped blowing sideways. The engine pitch steadied when the gusts quit hammering the rotors.
Then the horizon cracked open.
The ice didn't fade out so much as just stopped.
One mile it was all white—glaciers, frozen rivers, ridges crawling with things too big to carry names anymore.
The next mile dropped into cliffs where the snow fell away in long, sheer cuts of black rock… and below that, green.
Country M.
Trees spread in thick walls of dark forest.
