"Nothing worth doing ever is," Zafron replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "We should prepare for—"
"Wait," Calista interrupted, still reading from the journal. "There's more. 'The Tear blooms in four places where great transitions marked the fabric of existence. The Gardens are but one. Seek also the Fields of Last Light, the Ravine of Echoes, and the Whispering Cliffs.'"
They looked at each other, the realization settling over them like a heavy blanket.
"We'll have to split up," Aurelia said quietly. "Cover more ground."
Zafron wanted to argue, to say they should stick together, but he knew she was right. Time was clearly running out—for Aphrodite, for the souls lost in limbo, maybe for all of them.
"I'll take the Twilight Gardens," Calista volunteered, closing the journal carefully. "I feel... drawn to them, somehow."
"The Fields of Last Light call to me," Thera said, her eyes distant. "I'll go north."
