Rowan pauses for a moment at the door, the wind sending her hair flying around her face. She jumps and lands out of sight Sethran appears last, half swinging, half falling off into the dense thicket of sea grasses and sand. I keep my wrist at my side as I join Ox, offering him my other hand to help him up. Both of our gazes drift over to the humans’ city to the north. For a moment, we’re united in a mix of awe and hate.

“That has to be Ramsgate,” I say. “At least we know we’re in the right place.”

“And now we find the cure,” Ox replies stiffly.

The group of us trudge along the shoreline. The Cliffs have no beach other than the cove the humans have claimed, and the shores of Vyrinterra belong to the horselords on the eastern side and the sea-folk on the western one. Here the water stomps on itself, white and frothy. The sound is like thunder, and I have to squint into the wild wind to see. The sand beneath my boots is coarse and dotted with a myriad of colors mixed with strands of kelp and other sea debris.

Ox wraps his arms around Ro to keep her warm, though I can see his own fingers shaking. I grit my teeth. I can bear this—and of course I’m only talking about the cold.

Just the cold.

Who knew the humans’ lands could go from sun to storms so quickly? I scan the horizon for any kind of shelter. A cave, a cove. Some kind of cover.

“No one’s seen it?” Sethran asks. We’ve all had our eyes on the ground, scanning for the red blooms.

“Maybe we’re too close to the water,” I say. “The winds are strong here. Not much is growing at all.” I pull at a patch of thin grass next to me, and the fine strands come up easily, roots and all.

Sethran frowns. “We need shelter.” He looks back toward the tracks. “Let’s follow where the train was going. There will be settlements as we get close to their city.”

We crest up a hill and survey the unfamiliar land. Pale boulders jut out from hillsides. It doesn’t take long for us to find the tracks again, or for us to start really feeling the cold. Pain radiates from my ears, and I alternate between keeping my hands over them and keeping my hands inside my cloak. Soon my teeth begin to chatter. Tugging my own cloak closer to me, I exhale down into the fabric, but the warmth only lasts a moment.