The night was still when Arthur stepped once more into the ruined colonnades of Shamballa’s heart. The faint hum of the stones beneath his feet was steady and low, like the breathing of an ancient god asleep beneath the earth. Silver mist pooled in the broken archways, curling around the tall pillars where the Tall Whites waited, their forms shimmering with a quiet, timeless light.
Arthur bowed his head, his staff resting lightly against the marble floor. “I have come again,” he said softly.
“You know what I seek. The League’s army grows stronger by the hour. Their weapons tear through the forest and frighten the Anangsi. I must find a way to stop them-without killing the innocent, without destroying the land.”
The tallest among the luminous figures took a step forward, his face neithe
