They did not cease walking until the black plain was well behind them.
Istra led and Lucian followed from the middle with Sera watching over her shoulder at where the passage had sealed itself, expecting it to be torn open and a group of some sorts to come pouring out. But it did not come. Not yet.
Whatever sort of area mid-plane was, it did not hold the packed streets, the river yards, the thin walled boards of Keth-Arel. Instead dark stone carpeted what little was in foot's reach, distant towers of pale stone pierced the sky, and a hushed sort of weight hung over everything- the air was cleaner. Heavier.
Sera finally spoke. "So then, are we safe, or are we not?"
"No," Istra said, "we are away. It is not the same."
Lucian cast an unimpressed look over his shoulder. "How long before the higher city even hears of this sort of... disturbance, I wonder?"
