The carts that vanish at the old toll crossing didn't go off the road. They went off the world.
Corin Vale reads paths nobody else can see, and sells what he finds. Now his own road runs down to a frayed silver strand, and the strand runs into the white.
Beyond it lie other worlds, tied to a ring of light and kept by Kesryn Vasc, a gatekeeper centuries old. With him go Oskar, greying a little more every time he holds a crossing open; Merren, who can see further than anyone should; and Ischea Tarach, who keeps a book of the dead. Verdict, as ever, keeps count. [Walkers wanted: all of them. Wages: none.]
Before he's done there will be a market that sells his face, a dead world with one thing still alive in it, a city drawn in ink that won't wipe, hills that move every night, and a river town ringing its bells for the last time.
Something is eating worlds, one strand at a time, and Kelvara's is fraying. The woman who taught Corin the roads has a faster answer: cut Kelvara loose, whatever it costs.
Corin has a slower one. It needs every pair of feet he can find.
Progression LitRPG. Dying worlds, a system with a dry sense of humour. Book 4 of Uncharted Skills.
