But the voice comes again, barely more than breath:You’ll know the way when it finds you.
The light flickers once more—farther up now—and against my better judgment, I climb.
One level, then another. The air grows colder, heavier. Somewhere above, something creaks—a beam settling, perhaps, or wind worrying at a shutter.
At the top of the final flight, the glow slips through an arched doorway stripped to splintered wood and iron vines.
I step through—and stop short.
A bridge stretches before me, long and narrow, suspended between towers. The stone beneath my feet is worn smooth and uneven with age. One side still clings to the remnants of a carved railing. The other is gone entirely—open to the night.
Fog rolls beneath it, thick and endless. I can’t see the bottom.
Fall, and you die.
I press one hand to the remaining rail, the other tight around my lantern. The glow ahead has vanished now, swallowed by mist.
“Of course,” I mutter. “A death bridge.”
I draw a breath and step forward.
The stone shifts slightly beneath my weight. Wind tugs at my skirts. My lantern flickers but holds.
Halfway across, I glance down—and instantly regret it.
With a fall like that, I’d disappear into the fog and never be found. No salvation. No second chances.
You survived the dragon,I remind myself.The lake. The fire.
But something colder answers,This place isn’t meant to test you. It’s meant to break you.
I reach the far side at last, lungs burning.
Beyond the bridge, the path descends into a garden choked with overgrowth. The earth here is damp and alive. Roses climb broken trellises and shattered columns, their blooms dark and heavy with dew. Mist coils between them, warm and sweet with decay.
This place feels… watched.
I step forward, the lantern casting wavering light over cracked statues and moss-covered benches. The ground slopes downward—
“Careful, Fire.”
The voice is low. Too close.
I whirl instinctively toward it, and the stone beneath my foot crumbles.
With a gasp, the world tilts. My lantern slips from my grasp as it tumbles into darkness—
And then strong arms catch me mid-fall.
Warm. Solid. Unyielding.
I collide with a broad chest, the scent of cedar, smoke, and rain flooding my senses. His grip is sure, anchoring me as though gravity itself has bent to his will.
For a breathless moment, I can only cling to him, my heart hammering.
The fallen lantern lies nearby, its flame guttering but still alive. By its flicker, I glimpse the ledge I nearly fell from—looming far above us.
No man could have moved that fast.
