Jack walked forward, his boots echoing against the ancient stone floor. The chamber they stood in was massive, easily a hundred feet across, with a ceiling that disappeared into shadows above. Windows lined the walls, showing the vast landscape outside the castle.
Beyond those windows lay Floor 25.
Rhys still trembled near Father Caelen, his winter-ice eyes wide and unfocused. The amber eye had withdrawn, leaving only the glowing landscape visible through the glass.
But the damage was done. Rhys looked like someone who'd seen death itself staring back at them.
Sylph hovered near Rhys's shoulder, her tiny form rigid with tension. Her black-and-green eyes darted between the windows and Jack, clearly trying to process what she'd just witnessed.
