The air grew thin the higher they climbed. At first Stephan ignored it, too focused on escape, but when Olath's body went stiff against him, the truth became impossible to miss. The gnome's chest was straining, his muffled gasps lost in the howl of the wind. Stephan's own lungs soon burned like fire, every breath shallow and ragged.
He slapped a hand against Death's scales, his nails digging deep into the hardened ridges.
"Down, Death! Lower!" he rasped.
The dragon twisted her long neck back, one glowing violet eye catching his panic. Without hesitation she folded her wings, angling down. The air thickened as they descended, filling their lungs again.
Stephan coughed, greedily drawing breath. His head cleared. Olath, however, was still shaking violently, muffled cries straining against the gag that still silenced him.
