A dark plain stretched to the horizon, walled on either side by jagged black peaks. Like the stone at the top of the spire, the rocky ground looked like it had been crushed and churned by ancient beasts. For all Malik knew, that was the best explanation.

A chill ran down Malik’s spine, though the air remained utterly still. But what frightened him most was the absence he felt in his spirit.

“Should it feel so cold?” Yuri asked aloud.

It was not dark like the night. Though there was nothing resembling true light either. A permanent dusky grey dimness permeated the world, emanating from no visible source that Malik could tell. There was no sun, no moon or stars.

“It’s not cold,” Riese said. “It’s… another force.”

“Your senses are trying to sort out the difference,” Malik said. “Between our world and this.”

His father had offered few instructions about the world beyond the Gate. All his life he’d heard about this place, but always in vague terms. Like tragic storms, something that changed them forever, and something they did not wish to think on any more than they must.

“We’re in the Abyss now,” Malik said. “There is no hish here.”

Yuri shuddered.

“You’re sure?” Riese asked.

“Go on and try accessing it,” Malik said. “You won’t find any power to draw on. Not here.”

Riese closed her eyes and focused. Her fair skin looked strangely corpse-like in the perpetual gloaming that haunted the underworld.

When Riese opened her eyes, she caught Malik’s gaze and nodded.

“You’re right, but… there’s something here,” she said.

“I don’t feel anything,” said Yuri.

Malik felt nothing either, but he nodded at Riese. “Another power rules this world, my father says. Don’t try to access it.”

“Guys,” said Yuri, glancing back at the portal, about one hundred yards behind them. The archway looked just as it had in their own world. The watery center rippled as two more climbers stepped through.

Riese pointed toward a worn path up a rise of dark scree. The silhouette of bony wings flashed against the starless, cloudless sky, sending shivers down Malik’s spine. He had never fought the strange dragyrs that lived in both their world and dead one they’d fled.

“Guess we know where we’re headed,” Riese said.

“Should we split up?” Yuri asked.

Malik shook his head. “There will be eggs for all of us.”

“We made it this far,” Riese said.

“Well, I’m not gonna fight to be the loner again,” Yuri said.

At that, all three of them laughed, and began their final Ascent.

The path wended steeply up the foothills of the dark range of mountains. Ancient steps had been formed over the steepest places. Though it was nothing like the climb up the spires, Malik’s breaths grew heavy fast without hish to lighten the load, as though stones were being slowly added to his pack as he climbed.

Malik glimpsed more wings in the distant sky, and a ferocious flapping echoed from somewhere above. He wished he hadn’t lost his spear in the ordeal with the jackal.

Yuri and Riese drew their spears at the sound of the dragyr, though the creature banked and disappeared from sight. Malik wondered if the creatures had to work harder here as well.

He’d only ever seen dragyrs from a great distance. He’d been ready to face one at the top of the spires, but it seemed they’d all retreated to their breeding grounds in the Abyss as the first climbers summited.

Malik wasn’t sure if it was better to face them first or not.

Once the dragyr disappeared from sight, the world grew so still, Malik could hear individual stones grinding with their footfalls.

At last, they reached a ledge, which led to a narrow canyon between much larger peaks. The ground was still littered with loose scree, but it was easier going on even ground. They’d encountered no other climbers, though Malik knew there were several of their peers ahead of them.

The canyon wended through the mountain for another hundred yards before they approached an opening. Malik longed for his connection to the heart of the world. On the island, he might have felt the resonances of the dragyrs. Or the other climbers. Here in the Abyss, all he had was his human senses. And his friends.

Bonespears at the ready, Riese and Yuri crept toward the opening, treading as softly as they were able. Malik took slow, deliberate breaths.

All battles are fought first in the mind, with or without magic.

His father’s wisdom came unbidden.

For so many years, the mantras had been drilled into his mind. After his brother’s death, all the more—once it was clear Malik would be the succeeding shaman of the island, whether he wanted it or not. There were times he resented the words.

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But now, they brought him courage.

And focus.

The canyon opened into a narrow mountain valley. Lone pillars of stone jutted into the air, the sides strangely smooth. Random blades of rock jutted upward. It was not until Malik spotted the remains of a tower, complete with balcony and arrow slits up one side, that he understood just what he was looking at. A dragyr was perched on the balcony railing, long black neck craned. The smaller kin of dragons eyed them as they approached, but remained statue-still.

“God’s breath,” Yuri muttered as they neared the tower.

“This was a damn fortress,” Riese said.

“Like they got in the Attican Empire?”

“It was a city,” said Malik. The ruins filled the entire valley, reminding him of the innermost crypts on his own island. An entire ancient burial chamber that had belonged to the First Ancestors of the island. An underground lake of bones. And this was what they had fled.

His father had warned him not let his mind linger on the implications of this place. “There will be time after a safe Descent.”

A sharp cry resounded in the distance. Wings flapped hard somewhere out of sight. A warrior groaned.

Malik steeled himself, hand hovering at the hilt of his dagger—his last remaining weapon—though the skies above them remained clear.

The dragyr perched on the central tower gazed out over the city, neck rotating. Some sort of sentinel. The creature periodically let out a piercing shriek, but remained where it stood. Watching.

Even in the ruins, the remnants of ancient roads were still evident. The city was set in a grid-like pattern, branching evenly from one main thoroughfare. The main stretch of road was wide open and led to the tower in the heart of the city.

They strode silently, their footfalls muffled, as though sound worked differently in this world.

More cries echoed from somewhere up ahead. Flesh tearing. A weapon scraping against talons or teeth. Some Ascendant pitched in a desperate battle. Gravel grinding beneath boots. Moving fast.

Malik motioned the others toward a narrow lane littered with debris.

“Here! Quick!”

Riese didn’t hesitate, but Yuri stared up the main road.

“Come on!” Malik hissed.

Riese and Malik both latched on to large arms and pulled their friend off the main thoroughfare. Just before they retreated out of sight, Malik glimpsed a boy up near the tower, emerging from another lane. At a desperate run.

Sharp cries echoed all across the ruined city.

The three ducked behind an enormous chunk of crumbled building. Wings rushed somewhere overhead. The boy sprinted into view, golden cloak billowing behind him. Malik recognized him as the son of Saber clan’s elder, a boy named Petyr Bromsein.

A dragyr shot after him. Just before he passed out of sight, Petyr stumbled.

And the creature dove.

The boy’s cries echoed across the city as the dragyr slashed his back with long talons. The beast failed to latch on to him, though, and shot past. Then, another dragyr shot from the other direction and swooped down for another attack.

Petyr spun, mouth twisted in terror, barely managing to deflect the creature with a manic slash of his bonespear. The creature soared past, banking for another attack.

Malik turned to the others. “We can’t leave him.”

Riese hesitated. “There may be more. This could kill our chances.”

“And he will be dead.”

“That’s your father talking,” Yuri said. “This is our Ascent, for god’s sakes!”

The first creature swooped down, talons slashing the boy’s arm, ripping his shirt to threads.

Malik turned from his friends, and drew his dagger. Unlike his spear it was Kirithian steel. A gift from his brother the year before he died in this place. “You two do what you have to. So must I.”

Riese sighed. “Dammit. At least use a weapon fitting the task.” She handed him her bonespear, and pulled her pale hunting bow from her back.

Yuri moaned. “Maybe I should’ve gone solo after all.”

Malik took one focused breath. Even the air in this world felt different, as though he were drawing less sustenance from it.

A sharp cry echoed.

Riese brushed past him, nocking an arrow to her pale hunting bow. “Now!”

They sprinted from behind their cover.

Riese’s arrow struck the attacking creature in the wing. Just before it reached the Sabertooth boy, the dragyr veered, though it remained in flight. The next attacked.

Malik leapt in front of Petyr, and jutted Riese’s spear upward. Talons slashed. He thrust, and his spearhead lodged in the creature’s leathery chest, wrenching the handle from his grasp. The dragyr swept upward, then, dropped.

Yuri’s spear pierced it through the throat, and it collapsed onto the ruined street.

Petyr regained his feet in time to meet the second creature. Riese fired off a pair of arrows. One glancing off its spine, the other lodging in its shoulder, where the left wing met its body. It lurched upward, flapping furiously. The arrow crunched and went flying. Petyr ducked the attack, and the creature disappeared over a rooftop.

Malik and Yuri sprinted over to the fallen dragyr. The dark winged creature was about ten feet in length, skin like a dark lizard. Eyes empty. It didn’t move as they neared, and dark blood gushed over the stone.

Yuri removed his spear, still in tact, from the dragyr’s neck with a disgusting splucking sound. And quickly turned to the sky. But the second creature seemed to have had enough for the moment.

Riese helped Petyr to his feet.

Malik’s spear was snapped in half, the blade lodged deep between two of the creature’s ribs. It took some wrenching, and some assistance from Yuri, but he managed to free it.

“Sorry,” he said to Riese.

She shrugged. “Keep it.”

Malik was left with a rudimentary axe-like weapon. With this, plus the dagger on his hip, he hoped it would be enough. He stowed the remnant weapon on his back once more and turned to Petyr.

The boy’s shirt was tattered, right arm dripping blood.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the wound.

Petyr nodded, and Malik took hold of the boy’s wrist, examining the extent of the damage. The wound was deep, but the flow of blood seemed to be slowing.

Riese took hold of this sleeve, and Petyr instantly tensed.

“It’s all right,” Malik said.

“Just don’t move,” Riese said.

Carefully, she slipped her hunting blade into the fabric of the boy’s sleeve near the shoulder, gripping the shirt tightly, drawing it against the bonedagger. Jackal bone was remarkably strong, and Riese was always one to tend well to her tools. The fabric peeled away from his arm in one long cut, and Riese removed it. She grunted as she ripped into the fabric again.

When she finished, she handed Malik a thin ribbon over a foot in length. Malik tied the cloth tight—but not too tight—above the wound. Riese handed him a second piece of sleeve that hadn’t already been bloodied, and he wrapped the arm as best he could.

Petyr flexed his hand, wincing slightly. “Think I can still climb down the spires?”

“Just need to get out of this place,” Malik said. “Your body will take it from there. Just don’t start down too quick. Make sure you’ve healed.”

“Right,” Petyr said, rising to his feet. He shifted his pack on his shoulders. Malik could make out the rotund shape of what lay inside.

“Guys,” Yuri said, eyes on the bleak skies. “We need to go.”

The Saber boy gripped Malik’s wrist. “Two streets back from the tower, shaman. Turn left. Go three more streets. Turn right. There’s an entrance with six huge pillars. There’s more of them in there. Up the stairs. Just don’t look the faces in the eye.”

A cry echoed across the dead city.

“Thanks,” Malik said. “Er, what faces?”

But Petyr was already hurrying away, staggering across shards of black stone.