Exodus: The Windwalker Archive: Book 3 (Legends of Agora) by Michael James Ploof

of sentences rarely go the duration. It is possible that it will be shortened to one hundred, perhaps even fifty or twenty-five years.”
    “Feikinstafir, Azzeal. I never meant for this to happen to you.”
    “Nothing has happened to me, my friend. I have happened to something, and now I must respect the council’s wisdom and judgement.”
    He turned and continued to the door, where he stopped once again and gestured toward the distant waterfall.
    “Come, stay with me for the time we have. Find what you need inside, and I will wait.”
    Talon and Gretzen took him up on the offer. When they had returned with their bags, Azzeal led them through to the other side of the city. The lights shining brightly from the peaks of the many pyramids lit the night with a soft glow like multi-colored moonlight. One had to look directly at it for it to be a hindrance to their vision. Otherwise, the bright beacons seemed to dim in the peripheral.
    “Do you know that there is a secret to those lights?” Azzeal asked, noticing Talon’s attention on the illuminated capstones.
    “What is the secret?”
    “Those lights cannot be seen by the darkest of hearts. It is said that the purer of heart one is, the brighter the capstones become. They are constant beacons against the ever encroaching darkness, and a haven for those seeking the light.”
    “What…what does it mean if I can’t see the light in the corner of my eye?” Talon asked, not liking the implications.
    “Do not fret,” said Azzeal. “Shadows and demons hide in the corner of the eye. It means only that you strive to chase them away.”
    They came to the waterfall, and Azzeal stepped up onto a large round disk. The water from above stopped splashing on the stone and parted above him like a curtain. Talon stared in wonder at the water magic.
    “Please,” said Azzeal. “Step onto the stone and do not be afraid.”
    They did so with no fear. Rather, Talon was overjoyed when the slab gently began to float up beside the waterfall. The crashing water below was deafening. Even as Talon laughed with joy, he was deaf to his own merriment.
    Gretzen seemed to be enjoying herself as well, for she tilted her head back and laughed when she lost her balance and grabbed onto Azzeal’s strong arm. He smiled on her and rushed them faster still up the side of the waterfall.
    Finally, they crested the falls and were rewarded with a moonlit view of the sprawling river and its many marshy tributaries. Vines covered the land as far as they could see to the west, though they were not wild and destructive. These grew out of the water and banks and formed twisting walkways and bridges over the rushing river.
    Azzeal stepped off the disk onto a landing and turned to offer his hand to Gretzen. She took it, and Talon led her off.
    “Will the disk just stay there like that?” Talon asked.
    “Indeed,” said Azzeal. “It is powered by the pyramids, and will wait until someone steps onto it, then it will ferry them gently down to where we began.”
    “Feikinstafir,” said Talon, which got him a slap on the arm from his amma.
    “Watch mouth!” said the old woman before turning to follow the elf across the vines.
    “It is quite alright,” said Azzeal. “I, like Zerafin, rather enjoy the sound of the word. I have even caught myself using it when fitting.”
    He led them through winding halls, which were like tubes snaking across the river. On the walkways and bridges, the vines were thin and knotted. But there were others, twice as wide as Talon’s chest, which laced to form high and spiraling towers from which light and music spilled.
    One such tower grew near the southern bank among a copse of weeping willows, whose long draping tips cut patterns in the smooth waters near the bank.
    “This is my abode,” said Azzeal, as long draping leaves parted and lights began to glow within the tower and spill out onto the walkway.
    The tower was made entirely of twisted vine. From the stairs they