C497 BEYOND THE SILVER GATES

"The path is not on any map, Damon. It is written in the pulse of the earth," the Young Prince said, his voice echoing against the narrow canyon walls. He led his horse through the knee-deep red snow, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword. The air here was different—heavier, smelling of wet stone and ancient, dormant things.

Damon rode close behind