66. Chapter 66
“ D oes it ever bother you that all this is down here?” Ren’s voice slipped into the dark. The torchlight ahead wavered as Talen’s steady stride led them deeper into the tunnel. Shadows clung to the walls, retreating only when the torch’s glow licked their edges.
Lucan muttered something unintelligible, nearly tripping over his own boots when a rat skittered across their path. He let out a curse, jerking back and bumping straight into Ren. Some of these rats looked bigger than she’d ever seen, their eyes gleaming faintly red in the dark.
Still, they pressed on.
The palace might have been gilded and glorious above, but beneath its bones lay the true heart of House Vaelaran.
The tombs.
The corridor widened, opening into a vaulted chamber. Pillars of carved obsidian lined the hall. Sarcophagi rose in solemn rows, each lid etched with names worn by centuries.
Here lay the kings and queens of Vaelaran. The generals. The councilors. The warriors and loyalists who had carved their mark into legend. Statues stood sentinel between the graves: fae warriors with their swords lowered in eternal watch, queens with crowns carved to shimmer .
Ren had almost forgotten about the question she’d asked when Talen answered, “This is sacred history. Every step carries the weight of centuries. The saying goes that to walk among the tombs is to walk in the presence of every oath sworn, every crown borne. That the living carry their ancestors’ victories and failures with them always. ”
“By the gods,” Lucan hissed as he stumbled into a cobweb, swiping frantically at his hair.
Ren arched a brow. “Might be wise to tie that silky mane back. Pretty as it is, no spider down here cares.”
Lucan shot her a glare but dragged his hair into a messy knot anyway.
Ren tilted her head, voice dry. “Why did you even want to come down here?”
Lucan grimaced, the torchlight catching his scowl.
“I thought we were going to be out in the fresh air hunting beasts with real teeth, not trampling about in the dust of corpses and rotting crypts that should’ve stayed buried.
” His eyes darted to the looming sarcophagi around them, shoulders tightening as though the carved figures might step off their pedestals.
Talen had stopped several paces ahead, torchlight catching the hard line of his jaw.
His voice had a controlled edge that silenced the space more effectively than any shout.
“Enough.” Talen turned slightly, emerald eyes glinting in the dim light.
“These tombs hold my kin—kings, queens, warriors whose blood carved the realm you walk on. Show some respect.”
For a beat, silence settled, even the scurrying of rats seeming to vanish.
Lucan swallowed and looked away, muttering something into his collar. Ren, though, held Talen’s gaze for a heartbeat longer. She hadn’t meant to mock him.
“Apologies. We’ll tread lighter,” she said.
Talen turned and pressed forward into the dark, torchlight carving the way through the stone corridors.
Ren tried to push past the humor, but something tugged at her blood. A purr, low and steady, humming beneath her skin. Her magic. It stretched awake like a restless beast, responding to something in the air. To something down here .
Talen must have noticed her tense because he spoke without looking back. “Zakhar told me once he wandered down here and felt it. Whatever it is. Said the stone remembers things most of us shouldn’t.”
Lucan scoffed. “He’s bizarre. Half the time, I think he doesn’t sleep. I don’t think that helps his reputation.”
“How long has he even been in court?” Ren asked.
Talen answered, “As long as I can remember. Since I was a boy.”
“He’s devoted, I’ll give him that,” Ren muttered. “Devoted enough to burn himself out if no one stops him.”
“That’s Zakhar for you.”
Ren’s lips pressed into a thin line. Another wave rippled through her, like a second heartbeat matching her own. The air grew heavier, almost damp with it.
Then—
Footsteps echoed behind them.
The torch sputtered violently, its flame struggling.
Talen drew his sword in one smooth motion. Ren unsheathed Ashrend, the steel singing softly. Lucan stiffened beside them, hand already twitching toward his dagger.
And then a figure bled out of the stone itself. Cloaked in fabric the color of withered lavender, a woman drifted barefoot across the cavern floor. Her hair was a tangled mess, her skin so pale it was nearly translucent. Her eyes seemed to hold a silvery light.
“Veyra,” Talen whispered the name like a curse torn from him.
“Put your sword away, prince.” Veyra rasped. “It remembers me better than you do.”
Talen didn’t lower his blade. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
Veyra chuckled. “Most interesting people are.” Her gaze turned and locked onto Ren. Veyra seemed to strip her bare with that stare, peeling back flesh and bone until she reached marrow. Her nostrils flared. Her smile widened, predatory. “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, it’s you .”
“Me?”
“You reek of old flame. Of war-born magic and something older still.” Veyra tilted her head, listening as though Ren’s heartbeat was music. “You’ve woken it, haven’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. ”
“Liar,” Veyra rasped, but there was no malice. Only certainty. “It’s in your blood, girl.”
“Who are you?”
Talen’s voice cut through the air. “Veyra Morvain.” His knuckles whitened on the hilt of his blade.
“She was once a seer of this court, long before even my parents ruled, bound to the Vaelaran line by oath and blood. I only know of her from books. They say her visions carried both prosperity and ruin. She warned the crown of betrayal, that it would come from within these very halls.”
Veyra hissed. “But kings do not like to hear of their undoing.”
The torchlight caught in Talen’s eyes. “They called her a heretic. They silenced her by entombing her alive beneath the palace, her name stripped from record as if she’d never existed.” He paused. “I thought it was a myth.”
Veyra’s head tilted, the silvery void of her eyes catching faint torchlight.
“They buried me, thinking stone and shadow would swallow me whole. But the stone remembers what the court tried to forget. The marrow of this place holds me, even when flesh rotted away. Neither living, nor dead, just the echo of what they feared most. And so, I linger. A spirit bound not by crown, but by prophecy.”
“Then speak plainly,” Talen snapped.
“I want nothing,” Veyra murmured. “I only came to witness.” Her head tilted again toward Ren. Veyra leaned close, whispering, “When you rise, kingdoms will fall.”
The words pressed on Ren’s chest like a weight she couldn’t draw breath beneath. And then, as though she had never been there at all, Veyra dissolved into smoke.
Silence crashed down.
Lucan swallowed hard, his voice trembling when it finally broke the air. “If that’s what court ghosts are like, I’ll take my chances with ogres, thank you very much.”
The silence between them stretched, pressing against Ren’s ears until even her own heartbeat sounded too loud.
A low rumble stirred beneath their boots. At first, it was so faint she thought it was her imagination. But the sound deepened, swelling into a resonant growl that seemed to come not from one place, but from the very earth itself.
The ground shivered. Dust rained down from the cracked ceiling in thin streams, drifting lazily through the torchlight. The flames guttered.
“Perfect,” Ren muttered. “Exactly what we needed. An ancient beast deciding now’s the time to wake.” She forced her gaze to Talen, her chin lifted even as unease gnawed at her ribs. “I’m assuming that thing is what we’re here for?”
Talen nodded. His jaw was tight, his grip steady on his blade.
Ren drew in a deep breath. Unease coiled in her gut, wondering what the hell awaited them. But beneath it, something else stirred.
She was not the broken woman once dragged in chains. Not a pawn waiting for someone else to move her across the board.
The flame inside her flickered, restless.
The cavern shuddered again, louder. Lucan let out a curse. The sound surrounded them, pulsing through the rock, reverberating in their bones. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t sleeping anymore.
It was waiting.
And so, they walked forward and into the heart of the dark, where the earth itself growled like a beast ready to tear its way free.