The iron doors of the fourth Gatehouse did not just close; they vanished into the seam of the wall, sealing the pack into a silence so absolute it made Kaels ears ring. The transition from the bridge of reflections to the interior of the Gatehouse of Shadows was a violent shift in atmosphere. The air here was no longer thin or cold. It was heavy, smelling of ancient ozone and the cloying, sweet scent of jasmine that had once filled the gardens of the Stars Kingdom before the strike.
Kael adjusted his grip on his rifle, his boots echoing with a sharp, hollow crack against the obsidian floor. Beside him, Daenery stood with the Star Veil Lens held high, the four points of light within the glass casting a jagged, white radiance against the walls. The interior was not made of stone or metal. I
