Damien was focused intently on the seventy-first step when a sharp, agonizing scream ripped through the air in front of him, shattering the heavy stillness of the climb.
His head snapped upward just in time to see one of the drow, slender, marked with House Six's crest, burst into flames.
The fire consumed him instantly, swirling upward in a violent column of red-orange before collapsing into a small, pitiful pile of ash that was then swept cleanly away by an unseen force.
Damien narrowed his eyes and scanned the line of figures above him. The drow who had once climbed confidently now appeared visibly strained, their skin glistening with sweat, their movements no longer fluid but labored.
Some of them had begun to turn noticeably red, as though they had been standing for hours beneath the desert sun. Their breathing grew heavier. One was gripping the step railings as if his balance might betray him at any moment.
