Chapter 35
Chapter
Thirty-Five
Idrew in a shaky breath, the weight of Kaelith’s words still squeezing my chest. “Then tell me,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended as I looked at Leyriam. “Tell me about my mother’s pendant. How could it help the black dragons?”
Leyriam’s expression softened, though grief shadowed the lines of his face.
His gaze flicked to the cavern below us, where the dragons lay unnaturally still, their breaths slow and heavy under Kaelith’s spell.
“Your mother,” he began, his tone reverent, “was defiance woven into flesh and blood. When she saw what Veralin had done, when she realized the extent of his corruption, she created something no fae before her dared.”
He lifted his hand, tracing a small glowing rune in the air as if sketching a memory.
“The pendant was forged from her own blood, tempered with ancient light wards, and bound by her life’s magic.
A tether not to enslave, but to release.
It is the only artifact that can sever the unnatural bonds between the black dragons and their riders.
She designed it so their power would no longer be a weapon wielded by those wishing to enslave them. ”
I placed a hand over my chest where my own pendant hung, heavy and cold against my skin, though I knew it wasn’t the same one. “So it was her final act of defiance?”
Leyriam nodded slowly, his silver hair catching in the cavern light.
“Yes. Even when Veralin held the pendant in his hand, he could not use it. It rejected him. Just as it would reject anyone who sought dominion over the dragons rather than their freedom. And he could not destroy it either, for her blood was too tightly woven into its magic.”
I swallowed hard, throat tight. “Then that’s where he got the idea, isn’t it? To restore their fertility. That was my mother’s idea.”
“Indeed,” Leyriam said softly. “But she meant to give them back what he had stolen—to break their chains, to return them to the wild, not to keep them bound to his will. She wished to see them live again as they were meant to, not as commodities of war.”
My chest ached at the thought, fury and pride warring in my heart. She tried. Even when he caged her, even when she knew she’d die, she still tried. My fingers curled into fists. “And instead, he twisted her vision into another tool for his empire.”
Leyriam inclined his head. “He feared her, Ashlyn. More than you will ever know. And now it falls to you to finish what she began.”
Zander’s hand found mine, steady and warm despite the storm burning in his eyes. “Then we find it,” he said firmly. “And we use it for what she intended.”
I nodded, blinking against the sting in my eyes as Kaelith’s voice coiled through me, quiet but resolute. Her blood runs in your veins. Her strength is yours. And this time, Ashlyn, we will not fail.
Leyriam’s gaze lingered on the still, slumbering forms of the black dragons in their cages, his expression one of reverence and sorrow.
The cavern still trembled, the aftershocks of Veralin’s death rippling through the earth.
His voice was low, carrying a weight that stilled even the scrape of our boots against stone.
“They can be returned to the horde,” he said at last, as if speaking the words aloud bound him to the truth.
“Their souls are not lost. The stasis holds them as they are—bound but not broken. But the tether must be unraveled in a place that can absorb their corruption and feed their renewal. That place is the Hollow.”
My head snapped toward him. “The Hollow? Like the one outside the walls of Warriath?”
He turned to me then, his pale eyes focused.
“Yours is but an echo. A lesser fracture of the original, formed when the dragons of color spilled their blood into your land to protect it. The Hollow that exists here is far older… and far darker. This isle has been steeped in Veralin’s corruption for centuries.
Every stone, every tree, even the sea air—poisoned.
The Hollow here is stronger than yours, but it is…
tainted. It will exact a price for what you ask of it. ”
I felt my pulse spike. “What kind of price?”
“Life,” Leyriam said without hesitation.
“Blood. Perhaps even the bond between rider and dragon. No one knows. None has ever dared to tempt it with such a request. But if the Hollow accepts your offering, the dragons, their fertility, their true bond with the land, can be restored. They would no longer be Veralin’s creatures. They would be free.”
Zander shifted beside me, his jaw tightening. “And if the Hollow rejects Ashe?”
Leyriam’s eyes closed for a long moment. “Then she and her dragon could die.”
Silence blanketed the cavern. The sound of the black dragons’ labored breaths filled the space like the ticking of a clock, each inhale and exhale a reminder of what was at stake.
Kaelith’s voice coiled through my mind, heavy with an ancient resonance. The Hollow does not give without taking. But it is a risk worth taking. Better to try and fail than to watch them waste away in chains.
I bit down on my lip, the metallic taste of blood bitter on my tongue. “If we do this,” I whispered, “we might be trading one death for another.”
Zander’s hand closed around mine, firm, grounding. “But it could save them. All of them.”
Leyriam inclined his head slowly, watching us with something that looked dangerously close to hope.
“It will take centuries to cleanse this isle of Veralin’s poison.
To see it bloom again as it once did. But the Hollow is still the Hollow.
It answers only to truth and sacrifice. If you are willing… it may listen.”
I straightened, my decision made even as fear twisted inside me. “Then take us to the Hollow.”
For the first time since we’d met him, Leyriam’s solemn face cracked into the ghost of a smile. “So be it.”
The cavern seemed to exhale around us, the dragons’ restless movements stilling as if even they understood the weight of what had just been decided. Zander’s thumb brushed over the back of my hand, and though neither of us spoke, I knew we both felt the same thing.
The battle wasn’t over. It had only shifted. And the Hollow was waiting. We turned and joined our squad waiting by their dragons.
Zander’s voice cut through the air like steel drawn from its sheath. “Stay here,” he told the others firmly, his gaze sweeping over Jax, Ferrula, Naia, Tae, and the gathered Light Fae warriors. “Guard the chest. Guard the dragons. No one follows us into the Hollow.”
Jax frowned, his massive arms folding. “You’re gonna walk into gods-know-what without backup?”
“Yes,” Zander said without hesitation. His tone was final, and Jax pressed his lips together and fell silent. Then Zander softened, just barely. “Protect them. That’s the only way this works.”
Ferrula glanced between him and me, her green eyes fierce. “Fine. But don’t take too long, Rayne. You’re no use to us dead.”
I almost smiled. Almost.
Kaelith and Hein fell into step behind us, their claws crunching against the shattered stone of the cavern floor.
Their presence was a living wall at our backs, an unspoken vow that whatever lay ahead, we wouldn’t face it alone.
Yet even they seemed subdued, their heads lowered, their tails dragging slightly as though the weight of this place pressed against their scales.
Leyriam moved ahead of us, his white braids swinging as he strode with the unerring certainty of one who had walked this land before the illusions cloaked it.
His steps were steady, purposeful, but I noticed the tightness in his shoulders, the way his hand hovered near the hilt of his sword as if even he did not trust what might linger in Veralin’s ruin.
As we left the ruins of Veralin’s castle, the truth of the Blood Isle unfurled around me, and my breath caught.
Gone were the dark spires and velvet skies I had once believed were real.
The towering black walls of the castle, the glittering walkways, the eternal twilight—all of it had been an illusion.
What stretched before me now was barren.
The earth was cracked and ashen, a wasteland where once vibrant fields and glades had thrived.
Dead brush clawed at the ruined ground, brittle and gray, its twisted branches reaching like skeletal fingers.
The sea that lapped against the shore was thick with brine and black foam, the air acrid.
And the sky… for the first time since stepping foot on the isle, I saw the true sky. Pale and washed out, a weak light filtered through thin clouds, revealing the full devastation Veralin had wrought.
“This is what he hid,” I murmured, horror prickling through me. “He wanted us to believe this place still lived.”
Leyriam’s jaw clenched. “He wanted to believe it. His illusions were not only for others. They were for him. A coward’s mask to cover the ruin he created.”
We walked on, the crunch of gravel and broken stone beneath our boots the only sound aside from the dragons’ low, uneasy rumbles.
Everywhere I looked, I saw remnants of what had once been homes, villages, sanctuaries—reduced now to nothing but rubble and shadow.
Doors that led nowhere. Stone foundations swallowed by decay.
I thought of the fae who had once lived here, who had once thrived here, and bile rose in my throat.
Kaelith’s voice brushed against my mind, heavy with grief. My kin once walked these paths. Hatched their young here. Sang to the Hollow in the days before it was corrupted. This was a cradle of life, Ashlyn. And he made it a tomb.
I swallowed hard, unable to answer.
Finally, after what felt like hours of trudging through the wasteland, Leyriam raised a hand and halted.
Before us loomed a jagged rock formation, as though the bones of the earth had torn themselves from the ground in agony.
At its base yawned a cave opening, vast and dark, the air pouring from it thick with the scent of iron and something deeper—something wrong.
Leyriam turned to face us, his expression grave. “This is it. The Hollow. The heart of this isle.”
The wind shifted, carrying with it a whisper that curled against my skin like a warning. The shadows clung too tightly to the cave mouth, thick and living, as though reluctant to let us pass.
Zander’s hand brushed against mine briefly, steadying. “Once we go in,” he said, his voice low, “there’s no turning back.”
Leyriam’s arm shot out across the mouth of the cave, barring Zander’s path. His pale eyes caught the last of the weak daylight.
“You cannot enter,” he said, voice solemn, carrying the weight of ancient law. “The Hollow will not yield to you, son of Alahathrial. Only the blood of Veralin may step into its depths and hope to retrieve the pendant. No other will be tolerated.”
Zander’s jaw locked, his hand tightening at the hilt of his sword. “Then I’ll bleed if that’s what it takes.”
Leyriam shook his head once. “It is not enough to spill it. It must be his bloodline. The Hollow knows the truth. It will devour you, as it would devour me. But her…” His gaze cut to me, heavy with something that felt like pity and reverence both. “His granddaughter may pass.”
A chill feathered through me, but before I could speak, he continued.
“And her dragon may not enter either. The Hollow rejects their kind. But your bond…” He gestured to Kaelith, where she loomed, gold eyes glowing in the twilight. “It will bridge the barrier. You may call on her power even within. It is the only thread that can anchor you.”
Zander’s voice burned in my mind before I could form words. Ashe. No. Not without me.
I turned to him, startled, but his lips hadn’t moved. His Dark Fire eyes met mine, and then another voice threaded through the bond, deeper, rougher.
We will be with you, Hein rumbled, his presence like stone and storm in the back of my thoughts. Even if our claws cannot cross that threshold, you will not be alone.
Kaelith’s mental hiss coiled around me, a steadying weight. I will not let you fall, Ashlyn. But you must trust me. Trust us. This is what must be done.
And if she doesn’t come back? Hein’s voice was fierce, his worry unmasked.
She will, Kaelith answered, with a certainty that shook me. She must.
I closed my eyes, breathing in the tether of all three—Zander, Hein, Kaelith—woven through me like a braid of fire, stone, and storm. It thrummed beneath my ribs, so powerful it almost hurt.
“I’m going,” I whispered, and when I opened my eyes, I looked straight at Zander. “Don’t fight me on this. Not now.”
His throat worked, but he didn’t argue. He only reached out, brushing the back of his fingers over my cheek, the smallest of touches. His voice filled my head again, raw. Reach for us if you need to.
I will, I promised, though the words tasted like ash.
Then I turned from him, from Leyriam’s grim stare, from the dragons’ restless shifting behind us. My boots scraped against the stone as I stepped toward the Hollow’s opening. The shadows clung tighter, cold and alive against my skin, but I didn’t stop.
I walked into the dark.