Within seconds, a delicate, shimmering Bridge of Light spanned the toxic river. It was an extraordinary feat of high magic, an empirical synthesis of structure and grace that should have been impossible for a three-year-old child to execute.
Kael didn't wait for the bridge to cool. He scrambled onto the golden strings, his small boots sliding across the slick, glowing surface. The heat from his own magic burned through his wet soles, blistering his small feet, but he didn't stop. He crawled on his hands and knees, his teeth gritted, his amber eyes fixed on the opposite bank as the toxic yellow vapors from the river below rose up to choke his lungs.
