The first thing Raizen noticed was the color of the light.
Neoshima's sky was usually hard and pale, sliced by towers and exhaust. Here, the clouds below the skyship shifted in soft layers, tinted green and gold like light shining through leaves. The whole world under them looked filtered, as if someone had laid a forest between him and the sun.
He rested his hand on the railing to feel the vibration of the engines. His legs still remembered the Med Wing bed, but the stiffness felt good. It meant he was standing. Moving. Doing something.
Behind him, one of the cabin straps creaked as Saffi shifted her weight again.
He glanced back.
She stood near the window, shoulders straight, eyes glued to the view. The thin folder was concealed under her jacket this time, pressed against her side. Her fingers tapped once along the seam, then stilled. If you didn't know her, you would miss it.
Raizen knew her.
Nervous.
