Chapter 35 #2
The clouds parted just enough for me to see the beach—a crescent of black sand tucked into a claw-shaped cove, shadowed by overhanging cliffs.
Kaelith’s talons struck the ground with barely a sound, sand skidding under her weight.
I slid off her back the moment she stilled, landing in a crouch.
My boots sank slightly into the damp sand.
The others followed, landing one by one with practiced grace.
Zander dismounted and walked toward the edge of the jungle that loomed beyond the beach, all twisted vines and gnarled trees. “Luthias, you and Lowborn hold this position. Eyes on the sea and skies. No one follows us onto this island.”
Luthias nodded and gave a loud whistle. His dragon, a stocky green Clubtail, curled around the rocks like a living barricade. The rest of the Lowborn riders spread out, silent and ready.
We pressed forward into the jungle. The rain thinned, but the air grew heavier, laced with the metallic taste of old magic.
Just beyond the first line of dead trees stood a stone monolith.
It was easily ten feet tall, carved from black rock that shimmered under the Stormlight. Strange symbols coiled around its base like serpents, some glowing faintly, others completely dead. I didn’t recognize the language, but I didn’t have to.
The monolith pulsed with power.
“It’s a marker,” Zander said, stepping closer. “They’re used to guide enemy patrols away from the sanctuary boundaries.”
“Then we’re in the right place,” Remy said quietly, brushing his fingers along the edge of a rune.
I stared at the monolith, heart pounding.
Remy’s hand hovered a moment before settling against the monolith’s surface. The moment his fingers made contact, the symbols carved into the stone ignited with silver light racing through the runes like lightning finding dry ground.
The air crackled.
Kaelith rumbled behind me, her claws digging into the black sand. Hein stiffened beside her, his wings spreading ever so slightly. I felt Kaelith’s unease crawl down my spine.
“What did you do?” I asked, stepping closer.
Remy didn’t look at me. His gaze stayed locked on the glowing monolith. “It’s connected to the map. Whoever created it… they had the same power I do. Wraith’s Caress.” The light pulsing through the runes danced across his skin like veins of moonlight, ethereal and terrifying.
“Can you deactivate it?” Zander asked, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.
Remy shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that. It recognizes me. Accepts me. The moment I touched it, it began cataloging the magical signatures of those near me. Once we cross the threshold, it’ll imprint you… each of you. That’s the trade.”
Imprint. That word felt too final.
“And after that?” I asked, my throat tight.
“You’ll be able to enter on your own,” he said. “You won’t need me to open it again. But no one else gets through. Not unless they have my power.”
“This is some kind of private entrance,” Zander said, glancing around the jungle that encased us in shadows and dripping leaves. “A secret way in.”
Remy nodded. “Yes. Hidden, ancient… and almost forgotten. Which means whatever is on the other side of this stone, wasn’t meant for the Blood Fae.”
My stomach twisted as the monolith split with a hiss of magic, the center unraveling like silk to reveal a pitch-black tunnel behind it.
Not forgotten, Kaelith whispered in my mind. Just waiting.
Zander exhaled hard beside me. “Well then,” he muttered. “Let’s see what it’s been waiting for.” He motioned our squad and dragons to follow.
The moment we stepped through the monolith’s tunnel, the world dissolved into smoke.
Mist. Thick, heavy, and laced with the scent of memory. It clung to my skin, curling around my neck like a noose, and I felt Kaelith’s presence tighten in my mind as the tunnel behind us sealed with a soundless finality.
Gone was the black sand. The jungle. The sky.
We stood in a dreamscape. That was the only word for it.
Shifting terrain stretched around us. Fractured plains of glass that reflected not just our images but our memories. Above us, the sky swirled with violet lightning and drifting constellations that blinked and bled, like they couldn’t decide what they wanted to be.
Hein growled low in his throat, his tail sweeping protectively behind Zander. Kaelith’s wings flared once, and the gleam in her eyes wasn’t just from the strange starlight above. It was a warning.
“What is this place?” Riven asked, her voice small in the vastness.
“A trial,” Remy answered quietly. “To test our intentions.”
The dreamscape responded to that at once; scenes shimmered around us. Ferrula gasped as a vision of Diria burning appeared on one shard of glass. Cordelle reached out toward a fractured image of his childhood, then his dragon as a hatchling. And I… I saw myself.
But not now.
Me, as a child, blood on my knuckles, standing over a boy twice my size who’d called Solei a gutter whore.
What are you willing to fight for, child of storm and bone? the dream whispered, not in words, but in magic, pressing against my mind like wind against a sail. And what are you willing to lose?
Kaelith snarled and surged forward, her scales glowing with radiant violet heat. She pushed at the mist with raw force, but it wasn’t enough.
Hein followed, stepping beside her, and for a moment the two dragons stood united, their wings stretching wide. I felt their bond thrum with power and Kaelith reaching through me, drawing from our shared magic, pouring it into the storm they were creating.
Light and dark. Flame and sky.
Their combined power shattered the dreamscape like glass under a war hammer.
Reality buckled, then righted itself, and we fell out the other side.
I hit the ground hard, the earth warm beneath me, the scent of salt and moss in the air. We were in the sanctuary now—real, solid, tangible. I saw it in the massive arching trees, the ancient runes carved into cliffside walls, the glimmer of healing pools that stretched into the distance.
But I couldn’t move.
Kaelith was at my side instantly, but I couldn’t hear her in my mind anymore. She’d drained too much from me.
My vision darkened at the edges as I felt arms catch me—Zander. His voice sounded distant, water rushing in my ears.
“She gave too much,” someone said. Maybe Riven.
Then nothing.