The bridge lurched again. Tyron lost his balance. For a heartbeat, his face was pale against the storm — eyes wild, hand reaching for her — then he fell.
"General!" the commander's cry tore through the storm, only to be swallowed whole by the roaring wind. Tyron's body vanished into the white fury below, consumed by the churning abyss.
Lara's breath caught, but she didn't hesitate. Her hand darted to her thigh, where a slender flap concealed a hidden blade — Hephastus's work, forged from steel so thin it gleamed like a whisper. The edge could slice silk midair.
She slashed through the nearest rope that supported the planks. The bridge shuddered violently, cords whipping and snapping beneath the force of her strike.
