The black tower rose from the dead earth like a jagged wound in the landscape. Its surface was smooth, unnaturally so, as though it had been carved from a single piece of obsidian. No windows. No doors. No visible entrance.
Kaelen approached it slowly, the bond humming in his chest. The pendant was warm against his skin, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. The air around the tower was thick, heavy with the taste of decay.
"There's no entrance," Lyra said, her voice hushed. "How do we get inside?"
Kaelen placed his hand on the tower's surface. The stone was cold, colder than it should have been. It seemed to drink the warmth from his fingers.
"Through here," he said.
He pushed.
The stone didn't move. Instead, it rippled, like the surface of a pond disturbed by a thrown stone. The ripples spread outward, and where they passed, the stone became translucent, revealing a dark opening beyond.
Kaelen stepped through.
