Text reading: I returned my attention to the gap in the floor, sliding forward until my feet dangled in darkness. I strained to see anything below but couldn’t make out much more than the cables and a wall. At last, I held my breath and lowered myself off the lip, shimmying down the rope into the gloom below. My piton held, and I dropped the last meter to floor below.
In the deep gloom, I could make out little. There was a long hallway extending into darkness in both directions. The floor was free of dust and dirt except where the panel above had opened. That meant that this part of the ruin was unspoiled, sealed for who knew how many centuries. Along the wall, at chin-height, ran a string of geometric figures, characters from the dead language of the Skylords. It was too dark to make out much detail, but I recognized the design; I had seen them in my father’s papers.
This is a fun excerpt from an early chapter in my novel "Gods of Sky and Dust," where the MC crosses the threshold into the unknown.
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