The glowing sphere bobs and whirls at the thicket’s edge. When the gang starts to follow it, it perks up and zooms ahead, then turns another quick circle.
“I have already grown tired of this,” Cang groans.
Still, the gang follows its path through scratching thickets as the sun falls low into the sky. Golden light streams through bare branches when suddenly the sphere stops its forward march and starts looping.
Shyan gives the signal to halt. “What’s it saying now, Cang?”
“Pardon me? I am certain I do not know,” he replies.
“Wait,” Abia says in a low tone. She creeps ahead, parts the thickets, and beyond, finds a great city.
Logan Bright — Works 