Ten other second-skins were equally spaced across the plateau, all on the hands of the Tembrath Elite. Each one was different—except those of Sage and Saria, who were both using horned totum-screecher skins. Vigtor had taken each skin from its previous owner with pain and fear, which made them all the more appropriate for their current purpose.“We won’t get another shot until the next time the full moon is missing from the sky,” Crom grunted. Sage sneered. “We all know the necessary conditions.”Crom stood up straight, towering over the rest of the Tembrath Elite. “If you and your sister weren’t a small step from useless, then maybe—” “You thick-headed oaf,” Saria interrupted. “Maybe if you had the brains to do even the smallest of natural magic—”Crom waved a giant hand. “Who needs it? When did natural magic ever—?”“Silence,” Erimos uttered.All eyes turned toward their most senior member. “Crom is correct. Remember this. We have only the smallest window.
