There was little ceremony to open the Spatial Rift for the refugees. They were a sea of haggard faces, dim eyes, and despair. Even when the rift opened, only a few eyes lit up. Most just stared at it with fear and apprehension.
I wished I could explain it to them, but there was nothing I could say to make them trust me. In the end, it was the threat of the Fatesworn that stirred their resolve, and group by group, they filed through. The Last Light Company was already waiting on the other side, opening the gates and leading them into the city.
It took longer than I hoped to see them all through, and the horde had already begun to crawl through the mountains. Just as soon as the last refugee passed through the rift, I hopped onto Fable and led the Fatesworn to the front of the horde, finding Luke by his aura.
"It's done?" he asked.
"They're all safe."
"Good. I hope she has room for more."
