The climb was short but treacherous. Ice cracked beneath his boots, and the wind howled like a living beast. When they finally reached a narrow ledge carved into the mountain, Mara exhaled shakily.
Vaelor kept her on his back until they reached the bridge itself—just in case the ledge ended abruptly. When they stepped onto the first icy plank, the wind screamed across the gap, nearly knocking her sideways.
The first drops of sizzling cold rain hit them like needles.
“Great,” Mara muttered. “The sky’s bleeding and now it’s spitting acid. Perfect.”
“It is only water,” Vaelor said.
“Water shouldn’t sizzle.”
They moved carefully, gripping the thin railings. The steps were uneven—some barely wide enough for a single foot, others spaced nearly two feet apart. Mara had to stretch awkwardly to reach the next one, her boots slipping on the slick ice.
“Oh!” she yelped as her foot slid.
Vaelor reacted instantly, reaching back and catching her hand, steadying her before she could pitch forward into the abyss.
“Careful,” he said, voice tight.
“Yeah, no kidding,” she muttered, heart pounding.
Halfway across the bridge, the storm hit full force.
The wind roared, slamming into them with enough strength to shove Mara sideways. The rain hardened into hail—sharp, stinging pellets that bounced off her hood and Vaelor’s shoulders.
“This sucks!” she shouted over the wind.
Vaelor laughed—a deep, warm sound that cut through the storm. “It does.”
“Glad we agree!”
Lightning flashed above them, illuminating the endless drop below. The bridge swayed, groaning under the force of the wind. Mara tightened her grip on the railing, knuckles turning white.
“Next time,” she yelled, “let’s sign up for a cooking competition instead!”
“The only thing I know how to make is the soup,” Vaelor said.
“Then we’d lose immediately. Perfect. No death bridges. Go team Vara!”
Despite the storm, despite the danger, Vaelor felt something fierce and steady settle inside him.
She was afraid—but she was still fighting. Still joking. Still moving forward.
And he would get her across this bridge.
He would get her to the final challenge.
He would get her home.
No matter what the storm threw at them.
Chapter 37
Mara
Mara no longer knew how long they had been on the Bridge of Souls. Time had dissolved into a blur of wind, ice, and terror. Every step felt like walking on the edge of a knife—one wrong move, one slip, one gust too strong, and she would vanish into the endless white abyss below.
Her legs burned. Her fingers were numb despite gripping the railing with all her strength. Her hair was plastered to her face, soaked through by the storm that had swallowed the bridge. The cold had seeped into her bones, turning her muscles sluggish and her thoughts foggy.
