Thundar Stormstrider's Arc

Chapter 9 of 10

Thundar climbed past a band of loose scree, the new tank steady on his back. Then the pull in his chest went quiet. He stopped walking. For the first time on this whole climb, nothing tugged him upward. The mask hissed. His own breath was the only sound. He looked up and saw a thin shape hanging in the air — a pale lightning arc, frozen mid-strike, soft as a drawing. It did not move. It did not hum. It was a compass with no needle. He reached for it and his hand passed through cold air. Ahead, the slope split. A bolted metal sign stood at the fork, its red warning faded by wind. Two arrows pointed to two ridges. Both rose. Neither rose higher than the other. He stood between them and waited for the old pull to choose. It did not. Thundar turned his head and saw, off the left ridge, a small grove of pines wrapped in a low, unmoving cloud. The air inside the trees was perfectly still — the kind of stillness he had feared his whole life. He understood then. The peak was not above him. It was beside him, and he had been walking past it. He stepped off the marked path and started toward the grove.