The tower had always been cold at this elevation.
Jax had served as its Watcher for five years, long enough to know every sound the crimson stone made when the wind pressed against it, every shift in Mana that preceded a storm, every rhythm the structure had settled into across its long existence above the surrounding landscape. He knew this tower the way a man knew his own body, and what he had been feeling from it for the past days was wrong.
