Chapter 13 #2
But Siergen simply inhaled, and the fire that bloomed in his throat illuminated the corridor like dawn breaking. He exhaled a narrow stream of concentrated flame, and the door didn’t burn… it vanished, disintegrated into molten slag and ash that coated the floor like black snow.
“That’s handy,” I muttered, blinking as we stepped over the charred remains.
The cell was dim, dank, and unforgiving. Chains rattled slightly as Zander looked up from where he was shackled to the wall, his wrists raw, his shirt soaked with sweat and blood. But the moment his eyes met mine, he smiled.
Even now. Even here.
I dropped to my knees beside him, heart thundering. “Where’s the key?”
“On the guard who was watching the door,” he said dryly.
I frowned. “They’re all on the Ascension Grounds. Your death sentence didn’t go over very well.”
Zander’s nostrils flared. “Theron sentenced me to death?”
“You didn’t know?” I whispered, stunned.
He shook his head, jaw tightening. “He hasn’t been to see me since they chained me up.”
Before I could respond, Siergen’s voice echoed in my mind. Step back.
I hesitated, but did as I was told, moving away from Zander even as his eyes narrowed in confusion.
“I’d prefer to keep my arms, if that’s all right with you,” he said to Siergen, half a smirk on his bruised lips.
Siergen tilted his head, exhaled a grunt that was more judgment than agreement. Then… the shadows began to move.
They crawled like smoke and silk from the corners of the cell, gathering beneath Zander’s bound arms and legs. At first, I thought it was magic from Zander, but then I felt it.
Old. Ancient. Coiled deep inside Siergen.
The darkness threaded through the chains like it knew them, knew where they were weakest, where they could be unmade.
The metal groaned, warped.
Then snapped.
Zander stumbled forward as the shackles broke, staring at the twisted links now lying on the ground like dead serpents. His eyes met mine, wide. “What the…”
“You have shadow magic?” he asked Siergen, breathless.
I stared back, just as stunned.
Not now. We must go, Siergen barked in our minds, already backing toward the hall.
Zander and I exchanged a look, half awe, half terror.
Then we ran.
Siergen moved fast through the dim castle halls, his massive body somehow as silent as smoke, his wings brushing the stone only when the corridors widened. Zander and I stayed close, our footsteps light, hearts pounding with the weight of what had just been done to him—what was still being done.
We reached an alcove just beneath the main wing, tucked behind a pair of decorative pillars. A stone statue loomed in the shadows—an ancient dragon, wings folded, fangs bared, tail curled like a serpent around its base.
I recognized the crest carved into the pedestal. “The Unifier,” I whispered.
Zander moved forward warily, glancing at Siergen.
Turn the tail, the crimson courier said in our minds, voice like molten stone.
Zander gripped the statue’s tail and twisted.
There was a heavy grinding of stone on stone. Then a portion of the floor behind the statue shifted, sinking inward with a hiss of stale air and ancient dust.
The floor opened like a jaw, revealing a spiral set of narrow stairs descending into darkness.
“What is that?” I asked, peering over the edge.
Zander’s voice was hushed, reverent. “The catacombs. They were rumored to have been filled with sand after the last war…”
They were sealed, Siergen corrected. Not destroyed.
He stepped to the side, his presence filling the space as his voice wrapped around us.
Follow them beyond the castle walls. I will make sure you are not followed. I will secure the door myself.
He motioned with a snap of his wing toward a small recess in the stone wall.
There are illumination crystals in that alcove. Take only one each. They will guide your steps, but drain quickly.
I moved to the alcove and grabbed a smooth crystal from the shallow dish. It flared softly in my palm, casting a pale-blue glow across the cold stone.
“What about the other riders?” I asked, voice tight. “Their dragons—what if Theron orders them to follow us?”
Siergen’s eyes gleamed like Bloodfire. No dragon will answer their rider’s call until this travesty is rectified.
I blinked. “You can do that?”
His growl rolled through the chamber like distant thunder. Go.
Zander didn’t hesitate.
He swung his legs over the edge and dropped, his body vanishing into the dark. I followed, clutching the crystal tight as I slid into the mouth of the catacombs. The chill struck instantly, wrapping around my shoulders like the breath of the dead.
My feet hit the ground seconds later, the stone floor damp beneath my boots.
Above us, the last rays of light flickered—
And then the opening began to seal.
Stone slid into place like a tomb being closed, the final sliver of Siergen’s glowing scales the last thing I saw before darkness swallowed the world.
We were below the castle now.
And there was no going back.
The catacombs breathed around us like something ancient and living. Cold air slipped through unseen cracks, whispering secrets that had long since turned to dust.
Our illumination crystals glowed soft-blue in our hands, casting just enough light to see the carved path beneath our feet. Moss clung to the walls, and faint etchings, symbols I didn’t recognize, lined the narrow corridor as we wound deeper into the forgotten bones of the castle.
Stone gave way to silence.
Then silence gave way to questions.
I glanced over at Zander, his face was pale in the glow, with shadows under his eyes. “That thing Siergen did,” I said quietly. “With the dragons. With the guild. Is that… normal?”
He shook his head, his footsteps steady beside mine. “No. Dragons are powerful, but they rarely interfere on that scale. I didn’t realize any dragon had that kind of authority.”
“Like… pre-guild?”
He nodded once. “Like something out of the Old Wars.”
I swallowed and let the thought settle like a weight in my gut. “Did you know he could do that?”
Zander’s expression darkened. “No. I knew Siergen was old. Trusted. Respected by nearly every dragon in Warriath. But this? This level of authority?” He paused, the soft-blue glow catching on the ragged edge of a scab at his collarbone. “No. I didn’t know.”
We kept moving, our footsteps echoing now. The air was drier here, cleaner. Like it hadn’t been disturbed in centuries.
At last, the path widened, and we came to a narrow, arched stairway carved from deep-gray stone. The steps ascended in a graceful curve, worn smooth with age.
I paused at the bottom, staring up into the darkness. “Where does this lead?”
Zander tilted his crystal upward, its glow pushing just far enough to reveal the first few steps.
“Let’s find out,” he said, and started up.
And I followed him to whatever waited above.