The rest of the way had been relatively easy going aside from a couple of narrow passes and some loose scree that had crumbled down one of the smaller hillsides. Nothing of the inconspicuous mountain trail gave a hint that the fantastical waited for the traveller upon reaching its end. Sun had grown increasingly agitated as we neared the unseen tower. In the lands of the barbarians, magic was only a ruse used by chancers to gain favour with the clan leaders; herbal remedies and prognostication which was a politer way of saying guesswork.

“Did you want to wait here for me?” I asked when we stumbled across a lonely home built from layers of flat stone. I could see from the open door that it was abandoned, or at least unused at the present moment. There was a wooden rail to which one could attach the reins of their horses and I wondered if this was like one of the places I’d seen in some westerns. Like a refuge built for any traveller in bleak, inhospitable places where they could rest and get warm.

“No. We stay together.”

She trotted on, ending the conversation. She kept to the front, as if needing to be the one to reach the goal first. I wasn’t sure what caused her growing anxiety when I myself had certain gifts that were magical in nature. Either Sun would open up to me in time, or she wouldn’t. Such was the way of the taciturn barbarian warrioress.

The trail wound upwards in a zigzag fashion before skirting a sharp outcrop that pushed my vertigo to the limit. The path was wide enough for a wagon and a half, but I stared over the edge and my head started to spin. The forest we’d passed through was a thousand feet below, the canopies of the trees coated in a mist that ran from the mountain like milk. One landslide and we would be shattered against the jagged rockface until nothing of us remained to reach the ground below.

“Stop looking. You do yourself no good.”

I whipped my head around to see Sun facing us. Our destination lay behind her, utterly incredible in its imposing form. When the marshal had said it was a simple tower on another outcrop of mountain, I wasn’t expecting something that soared hundreds of feet into the air. It’s top floor was wrapped in a faint dusting of cloud.

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed as I craned my neck skywards. “How the hell did they ever build it out there?”

“You can ask them if they answer the door.”

“I don’t see any door…” I said, marvelling at the sight.

My astonishment at the construction also came from the fact that the Timeless Tower was only accessible by a rickety rope bridge that had seen better days many years ago. It spanned almost a hundred and fifty feet at a rough guess and I wondered if it would hold my weight, let alone that of our entire party. At least we could stow the horses safely out of the way before we crossed. Quite how it had ever supported the passage of the thousands of blocks and assorted material required to build the incredible edifice was a mystery.

“Time’s wasting. It’ll be dark in a few hours and I’d like to be back on solid ground.”

I looked down at the grey rock beneath Bolt’s hooves. “Looks pretty solid to me.”

“I’m talking about the relative position, not the strength of the stone.”

“You’re afraid of heights too?” I asked with surprise.

“I’m not afraid of anything. I just prefer to be on even ground where the air tastes like air.”

I took a couple of gulps of the refreshingly clean atmosphere. “Tastes better than street shite of Pitchhollow.”

“Why would you eat it?” she asked. “Just kick it aside and walk on.”

“No!” I protested. “I’m talking about the way the smell sticks in your throat. It’s like you need a stiff drink to wash the flavour out.”

“You get used to it,” she replied fondly. “This air is bland. It has no essence to it.”

“I’d sooner have this and a risk of death by falling than the tang of urine following me everywhere I go. That stuff gets into your clothes.”

“You can wash, you know?”

“Very funny. Personal hygiene in this time period is…” My mouth snapped shut.

I glanced side-eye and found Sun staring at me. Damn!

“Once this is done, you can explain what your words meant, Godspawn,” she said, firmly.

I reminded myself that I’d promised truth all the way. “I will, Sun. It might be a little hard to understand. I come from a very different place.”

“I’ll do my best,” she replied as we reached the bridge.

Up close it was even worse than I’d feared. The ropes holding the entire thing together were fraying to the point a mean word would have them snapping. More of the wooden boards lay in the scree lined valley hundreds of feet below than remained attached to the bridge. There were sections that would require almost gymnastic style splits to reach from one to the other.

“Erm, after you?” I offered.

Sun climbed down from Duke and stashed him in her pack. Bolt vanished from beneath me, sending me crashing into the dust. I picked myself up and rubbed at my clothes.

“Is that a no?” I groaned.

“You’re Godspawn,” she replied. “I’ll follow once you’re across.”

“I can still fall you know?”

“I feel you have a better chance of surviving it than I would.”

Gingerly approaching the sheer drop at the edge of the bridge, I looked down and immediately regretted it. The fangs of rock below were calling on me to fall and impale myself; to share my fluids with the parched stone. “How would I survive that?” I blurted.

“Godspawn,” she repeated, as if that was the only answer needed. She pointed towards the sun. “The day is wasting. Hurry up.”

“You’re awfully pushy for a servant,” I grunted.

“Call me a servant again and you’ll see how pushy I can be,” she warned, reaching towards my back with open hands.

I dodged away from the edge. “Don’t even play! That’s how accidents happen!”

“If I pushed you, it wouldn’t be an accident, would it?”

“Fair point,” I sighed, approaching the bridge.

A pair of knots from the first plank were lost to the shrinkage in the wood, giving the impression of staring, vacant eyes. Instead of the colourful orbs, it was death looking up at me from below.

“Why is the first step always the hardest?” I asked.

“Fear,” Sun said bluntly.

“I know that. I mean… you know what, never mind.” I held tightly to the ropes and stepped onto the plank. The sudden application of my weight caused the entire thing to shake and I expected to plummet to my doom while Sun stared over the edge. When I was still safely aloft after a few moments, I let out my breath and took the next. The thick planks were weakened with rot and I could feel the give as I stood on them. Opting to walk splay legged to at least have the emergency provision of their hempen anchors, I John Wayne’d my way to the middle. Now that I was far from the fixing points, the wind and my shifting weight caused the bridge to start rocking like a hammock.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” I muttered, holding on for dear life.

“You ok over there?” asked Sun as she floated past me.

I almost tipped over the edge in shock as she tossed handfuls of gravel out into nowhere and followed their skittering path.

“What in The Last Crusade is this shit?” I yelled.

Sun shrugged and continued across. “Magic bridge.”

“How did you even find the thing?” I called as she easily reached the other side, leaving me swinging in the wind.

“I noticed a couple of stones that were stuck in the air, so I kicked a few more out into the nothingness. They showed a path that I couldn’t see before.”

“Great!” I snapped, the vertigo beginning to tighten a band across my chest.

“Close your eyes and take deep breaths, Mark,” Sun advised, speaking slowly.

I did as she asked, closing off the world.

“Just breathe, nice and slow,” she encouraged. “Nice… And… Slow.”

My heart slowed from three hundred BPM to about two-fifty. In the darkness, I pictured the boards of the tavern bedroom beneath my feet and imagined the swaying was down to the three strong ales I’d drunk.

“I’ll guide you. You’re fine for about half of the rest of the way, but then you’ll need to open your eyes,” Sun explained. “Breathe slow, and reach with your foot. Keep tight hold of the rope.”

Now that my eyes were closed, I wondered if I’d be able to open them when the time came. I followed Sun’s advice, taking it one step at a time.

“The boards are sturdy. They will hold.”

To my eternal relief, I was well into the upward slant of the bridge when she finally barked out for me to stop.

“Open your eyes, Mark. You’ve got gaps to cross.”

That sounded like the worst thing in the world and I shook my head.

“Stop being an infant,” she demanded. “Open your eyes!”

The change in tone was exactly what I needed. No amount of gentle cajoling could’ve pried my lids apart, but her stern order peeled them open. I squinted in the daylight which gave my eyes, and more importantly mind, time to adjust and take in the sizeable gap awaiting me. Like the movies where the cameraman does, the weird trick, sending the near racing far away, the planks retreated in my vision. The vertigo returned with a vengeance.

“Don’t look down!” Sun yelled, snapping my head up. She waited at the end of the bridge. “Eyes on me! Find the gap on the edge of what your eyes can see, that way you won’t need to worry about anything else.”

“You mean the fall?”

“On the edge of your vision!” she repeated, firmly. “There is no fall. It’s just a bridge over a gently running river. Now shut your mouth and move!”

I kept my hands gripped tightly on the ropes while I leaned forward, extending my leg. By the time my toes touched wood, my tendons were burning from the stretch.

“Good! Now push off with your back foot!”

Seconds passed, and with each tick I felt my resolve failing. Beneath my stretched out crotch was a long fall, not soft water. I’d have plenty of time to think on what was coming as the rocks raced up to meet me.

“Move your fucking ass!” Sun snapped.

I flinched. Which triggered the bridge to shake. Which almost made me shit myself. Which also had the effect of giving me a hefty kick up the backside and got me moving. I gave up on the slow going and just ran full tilt on my tiptoes, barely making contact with the weak boards as I flew up the incline. I dived the last few feet, expecting a Hollywood collapse to follow in my wake. The day remained unnaturally quiet as I lay cowering. I opened my eyes, finding Sun’s toes, and higher up as I tilted my head, her scowling figure.

“Good. Now get up.”

I stayed on the solid rock where I was. “Did you just say fucking?”

“I’ve heard you use it as an expression of anger. I was angry with you.”

“Why were you angry?” I grumbled, rising to my feet. “I was the one in danger.”

“I was angry because you are the one who is supposed to understand magic. Of course the sorcerers would have a safe way to access their home.”

“I’ll try and do better in the future,” I replied sourly, keeping my back firmly turned away from the dangerous crossing.

“What now?” she asked.

I had no bloody idea. The tower was even more awe inspiring now that we were stood before it. I judged the base to be roughly one hundred feet wide, tapering slightly as it rose. A quick circuit of the outer wall revealed nothing except for a set of stone steps leading up to bare stone. Knowing the sorcerer’s obvious skill in illusion, I jogged up them and patted on the very real, very solid blocks which barred our way.

“Well, shit,” I sighed.