"There. Stone's thicker on that side, fewer visible cracks in the surface. Stay near the left edge, move smoothly without stopping, don't put weight concentration in the middle where it's weakest."
"Show me."
She stepped onto the bridge.
I launched immediately, catching air and positioning myself alongside her close enough to grab her if the stone failed. Close enough to catch her if she fell. My wings beat steady, holding position while she moved across the ancient structure.
She moved deliberately, testing each step before committing weight to it. The bridge groaned under her but held, stone settling with sounds that made my chest tight.
Halfway across, the wind picked up suddenly.
The Gap created a natural wind tunnel and air rushed up from the depths, carrying heat and pressure that tried to push her off course. Hallie dropped low immediately, gripping the stone surface. I positioned myself between her and the wind, blocking the worst gusts with my body and wings, using my mass as a shield.
She kept moving through it, slower now but steady, focused entirely on the crossing. Seventy-five feet from the eastern edge, the stone made a sound.
Not loud. Just a quiet groan somewhere deep in the structure, stress redistributing as cracks spread.
Hallie froze.
"Keep moving," I said, fighting to keep my voice calm. "Weight concentration in one spot makes it worse. Distribute it by moving forward."
She took another step and the groaning got louder. I could see the cracks spreading now—hairline fractures becoming visible across the surface, branching out like dark veins.
"Faster," I said, watching the bridge deteriorate in real time, calculating how much time we had before catastrophic failure.
She moved faster without running, maintaining that controlled walk because running would create impact force the structure couldn't handle. Fifty feet from safety. Forty. Thirty.
The crack was audible—a sharp sound like ice breaking on a frozen lake. A section near the center collapsed into the chasm with a sound that echoed off the walls.
"Run," I said.
She ran.
The bridge disintegrated behind her, massive sections breaking away and tumbling into darkness. I dove, wings folded, ready to catch her if she fell, but she reached the eastern edge and threw herself forward onto solid ground just as the final section gave way beneath her feet.
The bridge was gone. Just empty space where ancient stone had been moments before.
She lay on the ledge gasping for air. I landed beside her immediately, hands checking for injuries, for any sign she'd been hurt in those final seconds. Nothing. Just adrenaline and fear making her shake.
"You're unhurt?" I asked, needing to hear her say it.
"Yes. Just—" She sat up slowly, still catching her breath. "That was closer than I wanted it to be."
"But you made it." I pulled her upright, steadying her. "And Kethar can't follow us this way now. He'll have to fly the long route around the chasm, which adds four hours to his approach time."
She looked back at the empty space where the bridge had been. "Good. Let him take the long way and waste his remaining strength."
Smart female. Already thinking tactically even after nearly dying, already calculating how this changed the strategic situation in our favor.
"Can you keep going?" I asked.
"Yes." She brushed stone dust off her suit. "How much further to The Eyrie?"
"Four hours, all ascending from here. Steep climbs but nothing as dangerous as what we just crossed."
She adjusted her pack, settling the weight properly on her shoulders. "Then let's move before I have time to think too hard about what just happened."
We reached The Eyrie by early afternoon.
