The Bridge Series Novels & Stories

“Mr Blackwood, I am no murderer. I don’t know what my daughter told you, but this is all a misunderstanding.” “A misunderstanding?” Orion asked mildly. “How so?” Cain opened and closed his mouth, visibly floundering. Vera felt nothing but disgust watching him squirm. “Why don’t we schedule a meeting, Mr Blackwood—” “That would take another year, Cain,” Orion replied flatly. “I’m a very busy man.” “Mr Blackwood—” “We call on the father of the bride to come walk his daughter down the aisle,” a voice announced over the microphone. Cain froze.

Ethan had been researching the bridge for three weeks. I knew this because I had heard him discussing it with Noah across two video calls, because there were printed diagrams on the corner of his desk that had not been there before, and because he had mentioned, once, in the careful way he mentioned things he considered important, that the Brooklyn Bridge was a historically significant example of a hybrid cable-stayed and suspension design and that he thought it would be worth seeing in person. He did not frame it as a request. He framed it as an observation. With Ethan

I didn’t know how long we had been riding, or how I had managed to fall asleep pressed against Fenric, but the stiffness in my neck suggested it had been a while. When my vision finally cleared, I found myself staring at a stone fortress rising high into the sky. Towers stood guard at each corner, their banners stirring in the breeze. The entire fortress was surrounded by water. A moat. Then my attention shifted to the source of the noise. A massive wooden drawbridge was lowering before us. Thick chains groaned under its weight as it descended, the heavy structure inching toward the opposite bank. The sound was deafening. I watched in fascination as the bridge finally settled into place with

Julian didn’t look up. He fed another twig into the fire, watching it catch. “We need to stay sharp,” he murmured. “Lazarus wasn’t exactly sure what happens on the bridge.” He sat back on his heels, eyes narrowing at the thought. “Said not many have made it across… and if they did, they didn’t come back.” A pause. “The bridge is hexed. Designed to keep people from traveling further. To protect what’s beyond. To trap what’s already crossed.”

Was something wrong with the baby? They parted. Aria glanced at me, just once, then turned her head away like she hadn’t. A growl burned in my throat. I swallowed it and motioned for Nyssa to lead. The bridge came into view soon after. Solid. Man-made. Mechanical. It could be raised from the far side. Smart design. The river below was fast and deep. A natural defense. A man stepped forward and lowered the bridge. He waved. Too easily. Too friendly. They had defenses. That meant they knew danger. Yet they were letting us walk straight in.

"The bridge is built. The network is active. You’ve done what you set out to do. You’ve changed the terrain of our lives." Elena turned her chair to look out the panoramic window at the distant, jagged silhouette of the Northern Pass. The bridge stood tall against the twilight, a gleaming, impossible line of engineering cutting through the rugged mountain peaks. It was a stunning achievement, the kind of project that would be studied for generations, yet she found her mind already wandering to the next logical iteration—perhaps an integrated healthcare diagnostic network that could utilize the real-time data streams they were now generating to predict and prevent outbreaks before they ever c

I should have known better than to trust the feeling for too long. *** The next morning, I got a bridge report. Mara placed it in front of me with a frown. "The southern villages have been arguing about this one for three days." I opened the report, "The bridge?" "Apparently." I read through the details. The bridge connected three villages to the main market road and was one of the easiest routes toward the district storage area. Farmers used it to transport produce, traders used it for smaller loads and workers from the northern construction sites had also been using it to travel between their homes and temporary work locations.

POV:Damian The car never left the garage. At seven the next morning I sat in the security office beside the east wing, watching a mechanic on the monitor slide out from under the black sedan with a length of cable in his gloved hand. He held it up to the camera like an offering. "It is a brake line, sir," Caleb said quietly. " It was cut clean, not chewed and not worn. One stroke from a hydraulic cutter, then taped over so it would hold pressure through the first few miles."

Sekora and the rest of her companions flew to a bridge, which they had to cross to get to the next sword location. They couldn’t fly over it because of the island’s barrier. The bridge is a long, red, metal bridge like the one in San Francisco. They flew to the start of the bridge and started to walk across, when a small, green, troll with a Mohawk came from under it. There was a small river under the bridge which made small waves thanks to slight breeze that was blowing in.

“If you keep nagging, I’ll kick you out of the car myself!” For Mandy’s sake, Harvey held back his urge to throw out the mother and son to the side of the road and leave them there. He had to be patient. “This is a brand new car. Since you’re not familiar with it.” The car was currently in the middle of the Mordu Bridge. It was a red-netted bridge.While it seemed extremely ancient, it was still quite sturdy. It was also one of the iconic architectures of Mordu. There would often be endless streams of people who would flock here to take pictures.