Chapter 37
The wind died down the moment they passed through the veil of darkness.
She turned to look past Kinlear’s narrow shoulders, just in time to see the shadows fold back in on themselves, closing the gap where Six had just flown through.
She was surprised that she could still see the other side, a muted grey instead of snow white.
The Citadel was so far away, it was barely a speck on the horizon.
Incredible, Ezer thought to Six. You are incredible.
Hundreds of warriors had died trying to do what they’d just done. They had tried magic and might, all manner of onslaughts against the shadows …
But all they needed was a raphon.
So simple, the trick. Because the Acolyte had never needed to fear someone taking one of his own beasts, taming it, and flying it right back home.
Ezer smiled.
This was the perfect place for winged monsters to thrive.
The Sawteeth could have been weapons themselves, each one intent on stabbing the sky, and they stretched so high she couldn’t see their peaks for where the shadowstorm swallowed them up.
It churned above them, and rumbled the way the seaside storms always did: like a furious beast waiting for the moment to unleash itself. But the shadows did not strike inside the Sawteeth. They remained only on the perimeter, creating a barrier.
A safety net of magic that was untouchable for anyone who served the Five.
How did it know, she wondered, when someone defected? Did it count the darkness in their heart? Did it unfold for them, the way it had unfolded for Six?
Had Zey ever made it to this side?
She couldn’t picture anyone surviving past this point without a raphon.
The landscape beneath them was far more deadly.
Endless facets of black rock stretched on and on, so sharp even at the lowest points that it would have been impossible to pass on foot. One wrong step, and you’d spear yourself. One slip on the sharp, upward climb, and you’d be impaled to death.
There were no trees, no color at all beyond shadow black and snow white.
Flakes swirled in Ezer’s vision making her shiver, despite the runes on her cloak.
Kinlear coughed against her, sudden and violent.
‘Are you all right?’ Ezer asked him.
He kept coughing. Each tremor of his chest was a reminder of the time he was losing. How he would soon fade away.
‘I’m fine,’ he said as he uncorked his vial and took a sip of the medicine.
She didn’t know how long he had until that small vial ran out. He had only one extra, and now that seemed not nearly enough.
And then it was quiet again, as Six soared further north. The Sawteeth stretched on for miles and miles, an endless landscape.
‘There’s nothing down there,’ Kinlear said. ‘Not a single creature.’
But something had caught Six’s attention, for she suddenly banked to the left, then dropped into a fresh current of wind.
They were joyful, her movements, like she was exploring. Perhaps Ezer should let her lead.
Each wingbeat carried them deeper into the mountains, until they were surrounded by them in full, with two monstrous peaks on either side. For the first time, a bit of her hope waned.
They could search this harsh terrain forever and never find a trace of the Acolyte.
And the further they flew, the darker it seemed to become.
The plan felt silly now. A far cry from possible, until—
Six let out a soft caw.
Ezer felt a jolt of recognition swim through her from their bond.
‘What do you see, Six?’
The raphon picked up speed as they came around the first two peaks.
The world stretched on as far as the eye could see, every part of it split by black mountains capped in white. And right there in the very middle stood a peak no one could have seen from the Expanse, for it was smaller than the others, hidden right in the center.
And out of that small peak funneled a line of dark winged creatures.
‘Ravens?’ Kinlear said.
‘Not ravens.’ Ezer’s scars stretched as she smiled. ‘Raphons.’
Wild raphons.
They had burst from the darkness below, where the black rock was thick, and the shadows were deep. It was an entire line of raphons, soaring skyward, some full-grown and others barely fledglings. There were so many Ezer couldn’t count their number.
Six seemed to pause in the sky, her own breath held as she watched them and listened to their cries.
Your kind, Ezer thought as she buried her hands in Six’s fur. Your family, Six.
But as soon as she thought it, she realized that she was Six’s family too.
The kind that was found instead of given.
Six slowed to give the flock space as they climbed higher into the sky. As the wind howled past them, the raphons turned. Some flipped backwards, their wings tossed by the wind, their tails curling, their bodies belly up, as if they were in free fall.
As if they’d done this a thousand times.
Then they dropped from the sky.
Their wings flattened against their dark backs, and their beaks were like spears as they dove.
It was glorious.
The most beautiful sight Ezer had ever seen, and she could feel the adoration in Six.
The need to join them in flight.
‘Go ahead,’ Ezer whispered.
And she smiled as she let all control go.
Six kicked into another gear. Her paws tore at the sky as if she were running across solid ground, and Ezer dug her hands deep into her fur as she went faster, faster, until they reached the edge of the flock.
‘Ezer,’ Kinlear warned. ‘I don’t think we should—’
‘We must,’ Ezer breathed.
Six let out a screech.
The sound rumbled through Ezer, and her eyes were wet from tears as Six joined the others.
Another raphon was suddenly beside them. Another came up behind, and another below. They were inside the flock now, surrounded by wings of blackest night. Ezer’s heart could have burst from her chest. All her life, she’d watched winged creatures fly.
And now she was one with them.
She’d never felt more alive.
Six let out another caw.
The sound was beautiful and urgent. A question, she sensed.
And the raphon beside them answered.
The beast had an enormous feathered black mane, its beak double the size of Six’s. A male, and beside it soared a smaller female and her pup. A family unit.
The male croaked, as if answering Six’s question.
Six cawed back.
Ezer couldn’t understand them, but she sensed excitement brewing.
A vision entered her mind.
A rock, being tossed into a deep sea.
‘Hold on,’ Ezer yelped to Kinlear.
Just before Six snapped her wings shut.
And dove.
Snow blurred in her vision. She couldn’t hold back the cry that left her lips as Kinlear gripped her like a vice and they tumbled down, down, higher than the Descent had ever been. Arawn was right. Raphons were made for this.
For a second, the fear tried to rear its ugly head again.
But then she remembered who she was.
No longer without wings.
She was the Raphon Rider.
She was Six’s Rider.
And she didn’t care anymore how far the drop ahead of her was, how dangerous the flight.
She did it afraid.
And she loved every damn second of it.
‘Ezer,’ Kinlear yelled. ‘She’s not stopping!’
‘She will,’ Ezer said.
She didn’t dare pull up.
She didn’t dare stop this flight.
‘Ezer!’ Kinlear cried.
‘Not yet!’
She could see every detail of the snow. She could see the rocks they might be impaled upon, and she relished the danger. This was living, this was how it felt to be inches from death and still scream for the joy building in her heart—
Too soon, Six’s wings snapped out.
They caught the wind so fast, Kinlear slammed against Ezer’s back with a rush of breath.
‘Are you insane?’ he breathed.
Because she was still laughing, and tears of joy ran down her cheeks.
‘Relax, Prince!’ she yelled, as Six leveled out. ‘She had us the whole time.’
‘Gods,’ he said as he gasped for breath. ‘I’ve created a monster in you, Ezer.’
And then he was laughing too, as Six circled lazily around the mountain.
It was then that Ezer saw it: the opening right on the side.
Like a dark, yawning mouth.
‘Kinlear,’ she gasped, and pointed. ‘There.’
An outcropping of black rock, almost like a landing pad, appeared before them. And more raphons. Several lounged with their tails or paws hanging right over the edge, like they had no fear of tumbling overboard. A few pups bounded back and forth, leaping onto their mothers.
And Six was suddenly diving again, right towards that flock.
Growls sounded out, and dark eyes turned skyward as Six landed and jogged to a sudden stop.
Ezer and Kinlear sat frozen on her back.
But not a single beast moved towards them as if to attack. Mostly, they sniffed the air and clicked their clever beaks.
Six clicked back at them, like she was only saying hello. There were paw prints leading into the darkness: a massive, yawning cave, so black that it seemed like a blanket had been draped over it, so no one could see what lay beyond.
It wasn’t a black door. But … it was as good a start as any.
Like she was drawn forward, Six padded into the mouth of the cave.
Torches on the rock walls suddenly flared to life. They blazed with purple fire. Not magefire, but almost like liquid darkness, the flames black in their center. The sconces they sat on were in the shape of hands with long black talons, the blazing fire held in their palms.
‘Darksoul hands,’ Kinlear whispered.
His voice was so quiet, like he was afraid to speak.
There were several boulders inside, raphons of all sizes lazing atop them.
‘Where is she leading us?’ Kinlear whispered.
The torches led downwards, deeper into the cave, where the walls shone with hoarfrost, and strange, jagged symbols were carved into the rock.
Ezer’s heart gave a little tremor.
Were these the same symbols her mother claimed she saw in the Shadow Tome?
The same ones from her own labyrinth?
They were confusing at first, angular and sharp as the Sawteeth. But the deeper Six walked, the more the shapes began to make sense.
Ezer swore she saw words mixed among them, but when she blinked they became only the symbols again.
Her head was swimming, her heart was racing too fast, and—
A vision from Six slid into her mind.
The raphon rider soaring over the icy lake, a castle with dark, twisting spires in the distance.
The wind was gentle, and Ezer was at peace.
And when the vision flickered away …
Ezer relaxed and stared at the symbols.
Perhaps it was because she’d seen them so many times in her sleep. Perhaps it was because they had always felt so familiar. But this time as Six took her deeper into the darkness …
She understood them all.
It was a story carved into the walls.
Ezer slid her gaze across the symbols, drinking in the strange language. It was the story of a time long ago, when men walked with gods, and magic had freshly entered the realm.
There were six of them. Six gods, instead of five.
They depicted a great split between the six. When a terrifying power – a cloud of darkness – overtook the light.
It sounded just like what they were facing now.
But in this depiction … the roles were reversed.
The darkness was made up of five.
And the light … the light was only one.
‘What do they mean?’ Kinlear breathed against her. She’d nearly forgotten his presence, so lost in her new understanding of the symbols. Like some part of her mind had been off-center. And now it had just shifted back into place.
‘I … I don’t know,’ Ezer lied.
The symbols faded the further they went into the cave. But more signs of life soon appeared. Small, natural pools of water gathered. Raphon pups lingered by the edge, playing in the shallows. Some yowled, and others cawed, like they were caught in an adolescent phase between cat and bird.
Six’s head was on a swivel. She began to purr.
All about the space, there were piles of sticks and golden, shimmering things. Pommels of Lordachian blades. Bones. Helmets and shields with various house symbols.
And some were far older, with sigils Ezer did not recognize, like they’d been here for centuries. Like they were special treasures, set aside to admire.
‘Nests,’ Ezer breathed.
Little treasure troves, just like Six had inside her cage. She looked about, wide-eyed, drinking it all in. Somehow, it felt more holy than visiting the stalls of war eagles.
The raphons lived raw and free.
More torches flickered on as they went. She kept waiting for darksouls to come pouring out of the darkness. For a wave of enemies to overwhelm them. She reached for the blade on her hip, but suddenly it felt so insignificant.
What could one blade do against thousands of darksouls?
What could one woman, and one man, do to fight back against the Acolyte’s might?
This plan seemed so futile now. They were walking right towards their doom.
And still … neither she nor Kinlear turned around.
So she let Six go on, as if some part of her were magnetic. As if whatever was in that darkness ahead …
It called to her very soul.
More symbols drew Ezer’s gaze as they entered another great rounded cave. This one, far larger than the last and still lit by the strange sconces.
The symbols spoke of thousands falling to that great wave of darkness.
Thousands upon thousands, whose eyes were sealed shut by it. But after quite some time, only one was able to crack them open. To remove the scales from them and finally see.
Wrenwyn.
Ezer’s own ancestor.
And then there were other names, ones she’d never heard of before, shaped down the cave wall like an ancient family tree.
A lineage.
Where would she be among them? And how many others, she wondered, were like her? Sharing Wrenwyn’s blood? Sharing the ability her mother spoke of … to wield without invocations?
To have raw magic.
Untethered by the gods.
‘Ezer,’ Kinlear whispered, because she was too busy looking at the symbols, reading the story, to notice what lay beyond. ‘Look.’
Six came to a stop, and Ezer gasped as she glanced forwards.
Because there, at the back of the cave, was an enormous black door.