Whispers.

Max could swear there were voices all over the Bridge, whispering in a language he couldn’t quite understand, or maybe too low to his ear to catch the meaning.

But they sure were there. Like a pale, phantasmagoric wind.

They sounded almost like the ones he (suposedely) listened to last night, at the margins of the River.

Well, that same river was running right underneath them, so there might be some to do with it.

But they were quite high up from the river for the magic to make effect, right?

<== PREVIOUS | NEXT ==>