Isabelle ended up leaving the marines and Malgiers with Jean-Claude as well. Travers had a force with him, and they should be able to answer in kind. Plus there were great gaps in Bitterlich’s causeway that Isabelle could leap but no ordinary man could manage. The roadbed, if she could call it that, was a metal mesh in the shape of a honeycomb, with holes big enough to accommodate a man’s thumb. Still, it bore her weight without complaint, and she struck out toward the ruin. Bitterlich and Rebecca guided the way. Hungry flames reached for her from the oily lake, and she held her breath and hurried through low yellow clouds when no other path was available.

Night, such as it was, fell by the time she reached the outskirts of the once-city. The auroras danced and the lake fires grudgingly illuminated her path as she traversed spaces between the buildings.

Where was Hasdrubal? Where was the Vault? What did it even look like?

The world stuttered again, but it was different this time. There was no living world on the other side of the skip, just the causeway, the ruined towers, and cold, barren rock, lifeless and airless. All the breath raced from Isabelle’s body and cold slammed her lungs. Her cappotto and her spark-arm vanished just as they had on the remnant of Rüul.

Rebecca and Bitterlich fell from the sky, their sorcery likewise dispelled. Rebecca fell beside the causeway, landed on her head, and lay stunned. Isabelle stumbled toward her, growing dizzy, trying to draw air that wasn’t there. She hauled the child onto the causeway. Her legs gave out. She fell to her knees and flopped over on her back, reaching for Bitterlich. He crawled toward her.

Above, the aurora had vanished, but the distant stars still gleamed in their familiar patterns. That much, at least, was constant. Yet there was also a structure here, a tall stepped pyramid in the center of the ruined city that hadn’t been there a moment before.

It was the Vault of Ages. Just there, but she could not breathe. Her sight dimmed and blackness crept in.

The world snapped, the auroras crackled, and breath hit her lungs, burning through the empty sacs like fire through dry scrub. Her ears popped, and for a long minute she could do nothing but cough and wheeze. Her head felt like someone was hammering it on an anvil. Still she rolled to her knees and looked around. Rebecca lay unmoving.

Bitterlich felt for Rebecca’s pulse. She groaned and rolled her head, mumbling incoherently.

“Just stunned, I think,” Bitterlich said with more hope than evidence.

“Keep watch on her,” Isabelle said, regaining her feet and staggering up the causeway toward the chopped-off buildings.

“Where are you going?” Bitterlich asked.