Chapter 37
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
The cavern pulsed once, as if the walls themselves had taken a breath.
Shadows gathered, pulling together into a shape so massive my heart stilled in my chest. Gold scales caught the light of unseen fire, wings half-furled as though he carried the weight of centuries.
Siergen stood before me, regal and terrifying, but his eyes—those ancient, haunted eyes—burned straight through me.
“Granddaughter of Veralin.” His voice thundered in my mind, though his lips did not move. “Bearer of Kaelith’s soul.”
I clutched the pendant at my chest, its weight heavy against me as if it understood the moment. “Tell me what I need to do. How do I free them?” My voice cracked, too small in the vast cavern.
Siergen lowered his head until his massive snout was only a few feet from me, the heat of his breath stirring my hair.
“You cannot free them as you are. The pendant is the key, but only through your bond with Kaelith can its power be wielded.” His eyes glowed brighter.
“Your soul is no longer yours alone. She has given you her essence, and in turn you must use that tether to pour life where Veralin poured death.”
“I don’t understand,” I whispered.
“You will.” His voice softened, no less commanding but weighted with sorrow.
“You must stand at the heart of their prison. Place your hand upon the pendant and call Kaelith’s magic as if it were your own.
Do not command it—share it. Let it flow from you into the pendant, into the chains that hold them.
It will not be blood alone that breaks their bondage, but trust. If you falter, if Kaelith falters, they will die, and your bond may unravel with them. ”
The pendant throbbed against my chest, hot enough to sting, and Kaelith’s voice hissed low in my mind. He is right. I will give everything to this, Ashlyn. You must too. No hesitation. No fear.
I clenched my fists, blinking away the sting of tears. “And if it kills me?”
Siergen’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then you will die as the first true rider in this age. Bound not by chains, but by choice. And every dragon, every life saved, will know your name.”
The reality of it pulsed through me until my knees threatened to give. My hand curled tight around the pendant, my other pressed to my heart where Kaelith’s presence burned steady and fierce.
“I’ll do it,” I whispered, though the tremor in my chest was real.
Siergen closed his eyes, a low rumble echoing through the cavern like grief contained. “Then the fate of the horde rests in your hands, Ashlyn Rebec. Do not fail them.”
The Hollow spat me back into the wasteland with a sound like stone grinding on stone.
The cavern mouth was gone behind me, nothing but jagged rock and brittle brush, as if it had never been there at all.
My lungs burned with the cool air, the weight of what had just happened still coiled in my chest like a living flame.
Zander was waiting, standing tall despite the exhaustion I could feel rolling off him. His dark eyes locked onto me the instant I emerged, and before I could draw another breath, he was striding forward.
“You got it.” His voice was low, but relief threaded every word. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me tight against his chest. For a moment, I just let myself sink into him, my cheek pressed to the armor that smelled of smoke and steel.
“I did.” My voice was muffled against him.
I pulled back enough to meet his eyes, lifting the pendant from where it rested against my sternum.
The strange glow within it pulsed like a heartbeat.
“But it’s not enough just to have it. I have to call on Kaelith’s power at the heart of the dragons’ prison, or none of this will matter. ”
Zander’s jaw tightened, and he glanced at Leyriam, who stood a few paces back, his white braid glinting in the weak light that filtered through the ruined skies.
“Do you know where that is?” I asked.
Leyriam’s expression was grave, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. “The cavern that currently cages them. The chest was never the true prison. The chains that bind them are anchored there. That is where the pendant must be used.”
“Of course,” I whispered, my stomach twisting. “We have to go back.”
Zander’s hand brushed mine, warm, steadying. His gaze was searching. “Ashlyn… what happened in there?”
I hesitated, the words lodged like thorns in my throat. But if anyone deserved the truth, it was him. I turned fully to face him, keeping my voice low. “Kaelith and I… we chose the bond.”
He stilled completely, his breath leaving him in a soft rush. His dark eyes widened, flickering as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right. “The soul-bond?”
I nodded, feeling the tremor ripple through me as I remembered the sensation—the threads twining, the merging of who I was with who Kaelith had always been.
“It was the only way to prove our trust. To gain the pendant. We’re not just tied by magic anymore, Zander.
Our souls…” I pressed a hand over my chest where Kaelith’s presence pulsed with mine, “they’re one now. ”
He was silent, staring at me as if I’d just told him the sky was breaking open.
His lips parted, closed, parted again. “Ashlyn,” he whispered, my name ragged in his throat.
“That’s… that’s not something done lightly.
That’s…” His hand lifted to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheek as if to ground himself.
“It means you’ve given up more than your life. You’ve given her your soul.”
I swallowed hard. “And she’s given me hers.”
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the sound of Hein’s talons scraping stone as he shifted behind us. Kaelith’s voice brushed against mine, warm and fierce. Tell him I chose it, too. That I would have chosen it in any world.
Zander’s gaze softened, but the shock hadn’t left him. He bent his forehead to mine, his voice a whisper that was more vow than statement. “You’ve become something no rider has been in centuries. And gods help me, I don’t know whether to be terrified or in awe.”
I let out a shaky laugh, though my chest ached. “Both, maybe.”
Leyriam cleared his throat, his voice quiet but urgent. “Then there’s no time to waste. If you’ve bound yourself to her in truth, you might be the only one alive who can undo what Veralin has done. Come—we must return to the cavern.”
Zander’s fingers lingered against my cheek before he pulled back. But the look in his eyes stayed with me as we followed Leyriam through the ruined bones of Veralin’s castle. Shock, yes—but also pride. And a kind of reverence that made my throat tighten with unshed tears.
The wasteland stretched before us, gray and lifeless, and yet the pendant at my throat pulsed brightly, like a promise, until we reached the stairway that led underground.
The cavern stank of blood and iron, of rot and despair. Yet when we stepped inside, the sound of my squad—alive, waiting—was the only thing I cared about. Ferrula stood with her sword drawn, Naia’s blue eyes alert and wary, and Jax rushed forward before anyone else could speak.
“You did it.” His arms wrapped around me, crushing, and for a moment all I could do was bury my face against his shoulder and let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“I got the pendant,” I managed when he finally let me breathe.
My fingers touched the strange weight around my neck, the blood-born jewel that pulsed like a living thing.
“Now I just have to call on Kaelith’s power to break the spell.
” My voice wavered, both hope and fear threading through it. “Or so I’m told.”
Leyriam stepped forward, his silver hair catching the torchlight like threads of moonlight.
His face was solemn. “Then you must enter one of their cells. The bond must be broken from within, where it is anchored.” His eyes lingered on me with a kind of reverence, but there was no pity. Only expectation.
My gaze swept the cavern, pausing on the dragon whose scales shimmered softly beneath the shadow of the chains. Black… yet not fully. Patches of gold flickered like hidden fire across its flank, even in sleep. My chest tightened. “That one,” I said softly, pointing.
Leyriam nodded and lifted his hands. Blue light coalesced at his fingertips, shimmering threads that laced across the bars of the cell. Words older than Warriath itself left his lips, vibrating through the stone. The lock shuddered and fell away with a clang.
The air was heavy, stifling, as I stepped inside. The dragon was massive even in its slumber, its breaths shallow, as though clinging to life only because it had no choice. I placed my palm on the ridge of its chest, feeling the sluggish thrum of a heart that should have thundered like Kaelith’s.
Kaelith, I whispered in my mind.
Yes. Her voice filled me, steady and fierce.
“Release them from stasis.”
As you wish.
A hiss of energy rippled through me as Kaelith withdrew her hold. The golden-patched dragon stirred, lids twitching over sightless eyes. My pulse hammered, fear threatening to choke me—but I pressed harder against its chest, summoning Kaelith’s power through me.
It came like fire and storm, lightning down my veins. Not my power alone, not hers alone, but ours. The pendant blazed, a living beacon, and the air itself recoiled as I channeled it into the dragon beneath my palm.
At first, nothing. Then I felt it—the dark tether, slick and oily, coiling through the dragon’s soul like a parasite. My breath caught. It was ancient, unnatural, more curse than bond, and its claws dug deep.
“Now,” I whispered through gritted teeth.
Kaelith roared in my mind. Together, we unleashed the storm.
Her lightning tore through me, searing and wild, slamming against the black chains that held the dragon bound.
They writhed and resisted, but Kaelith’s fury was endless, my will unyielding.
The cavern shook as sparks leaped from my body, arcing across the scales beneath my hand.
The darkness screamed.
And then it began to unravel.
Color rippled across the dragon’s scales, slow at first, then faster—gold consuming black, spreading like sunlight devouring night. It rolled over its wings, its tail, until no shadow remained. The chains shattered into dust, and the dragon’s chest heaved in a deep, ragged breath, free at last.
Behind me, the others gasped. And around us, the other caged dragons began to stir, their bodies trembling as if they, too, felt the bond beginning to crack.
The golden dragon whimpered, a sound so fragile it cut through the cavern like broken glass.
Its massive body shook, wings quivering as though they might fold in on themselves, and the sound echoed all around me.
The others—emerald, sapphire, ruby, different colors now blooming where blackness had once smothered them—quivered in their cages.
Even as Jax, Ferrula, and Naia shattered locks with Leyriam’s aid, not one dragon tried to flee.
My chest tightened. “What’s wrong with them?” I asked, my palm still pressed to the warm, newly golden scales beneath my hand.
Kaelith’s voice threaded through my mind, low and heavy with sorrow.
Their minds are like children’s. That is why they never grew as dragons should.
They were chained not only in body, but in spirit.
They do not understand what was done to them…
only what they did. And they cannot cope with their shame.
I blinked back tears and smoothed my hand along the golden dragon’s flank, feeling its tremors ripple through my own body. “It wasn’t your fault,” I whispered, my voice catching. “You are so beautiful.”
It didn’t move, only shuddered under my touch.
I leaned closer, pressing my forehead against its scales. “I know your father,” I murmured. “He is the biggest and most beautiful dragon in the horde. And you—” my throat cracked, tears burning in my eyes, “you are his legacy.”
The dragon shifted, so slowly, so cautiously, its golden head turning toward me. Its eyes glistened wetly, and then, to my horror, red tears began to leak down its cheeks, streaking through scales dulled by centuries of pain.
My heart broke. I slid my arms as far around its neck as I could, pressing my cheek to the warm scales. “Don’t cry, baby,” I whispered fiercely. “This is the first day of your new life. Soon this place will be nothing but a dark memory.”
The dragon gave a quiet rumble, leaning into me, the slightest gesture of trust.
“Kaelith,” I asked, clutching tighter, “can they fly?”
Yes, she answered, her voice gentler now, steadier. Their bodies are strong; their wings remember. They have the strength; they have the knowledge. But the bonds to the horde… those are missing still. They must be woven again. That will take time.
I stroked the golden dragon’s scales, my tears sinking into the grooves of its hide. “Then let’s get you home,” I whispered. “Let’s get you all home.”
The dragon leaned a little heavier into me, as if it understood. And hope warmed the shadows.