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Chapter 56 - Chapter 56: The Threshold of Choice

The ascent to the Zenith of the Sun-Eater Range was a climb through the very lungs of the world. At this altitude, the air was no longer a gas; it was a thin, crystalline vapor that tasted of ancient ozone and the cold, indifferent silence of the stars. The silver-furred drakes could go no further. Their wings, built for the dense thermals of the North, struggled against the vacuum-like pressure of the peak. We landed on a narrow, windswept ledge five hundred feet below the summit, the stone beneath our feet vibrating with a low, magnetic hum that set my teeth on edge and made the labyrinth tattoo on my palm itch with a cold, violet intensity.

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