CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Pressure tore at my skin like the universe was folding into itself, pushing and pulling me all at once.
But it was over in an instant. My feet landed on a patch of grass, wet from what must’ve been a recent rainfall.
Droplets of water still speckled the ground, lacing the air with a crisp freshness I greedily inhaled.
I’d never tasted air so clear, even when standing at the base of the northern mountains.
The gate remained intact, but showed no signs of Kodhan, or even Maverick’s study.
“Kodhan?” I called out, as loudly as I dared.
A faraway shout sent unease down the slope of my shoulders before the gate vanished without warning. “Kodhan!” I desperately reached towards the space where the gate had been, as if I could somehow weave it back into existence.
But I couldn’t.
Other than the surrounding trees, the stars, and a rising hill straight ahead, I was completely alone. And I didn’t have the faintest idea of where I’d been dropped. The trees seemed to go on for miles. There wasn’t a single speck of light in the distance—not a single sign of Aedreath or the Veil.
Trepidation wrapped tightly around my middle, snuffing the air out of my lungs. The sky here looked… wrong. Like a pot of ink had been spilled across the expanse of the world. Stars blinked overhead, but not one flash of color accompanied them.
It left my surroundings excessively dark. I could barely see ten feet ahead of me.
Panic wouldn’t lend me any favors. Not now. No one was supposed to accompany me out here to begin with. Gideon had made sure to engrain his training into my very bones before the trials began.
And I knew that Kodhan would grab me by the collar and shake me if he found out I stood around waiting longer than I needed to, vulnerable in the face of what lurked in the shadows. Maverick said he would drop us in the exact same place. But he didn’t say when.
I cursed myself for not having caught that detail sooner.
The hill. That was where I could start. Even if trudging towards it left my shoes sopping wet. Higher ground meant better vantage over approaching enemies. I wouldn’t be able to see them properly, not with how dark it was, but I would at least have a broader scope of the forest.
A towering, gnarled oak tree stood at attention to the left of the hill, while another in equal size squatted to the right.
Water dribbled continuously from the leaves above my head in heavy droplets, plopping into an array of puddles.
They reached for one another as they grew in size, forming a jagged, almost ankle-deep pond.
I squinted. The closer I got to it, the more I could make out different shapes ahead.
White stone, stained with dirt and mud, protruded from the hill, forming an even taller arch than the gate, and three times as wide.
The partially visible walls were spiderwebbed with cracks and markings flaking with age, their colors nearly washed out completely, save for the raw pieces of gold embedded directly into them.
Not just a hill, then.
No, the behemoth of a structure before me could only be the Temple of Borealis.
There was no proof of it, not yet, but my very blood sang with a sense of truth, a bone-deep confirmation that this was what I risked my life for. What housed my salvation.
Thank the stars.
It must have been beautiful, once upon a time.
I could almost imagine celebrations being housed here, the trees perfect for holding decorations, and the dais an excellent way for musicians to propel their music.
And on the quieter nights, priests and priestesses alike knelt in prayer among the steps with only the stars to witness hymns long lost to time.
A low growl rumbled nearby. Followed by a shrill chittering I’d never heard any animal make before. The surrounding trees hid anything with a pulse. Without any light to guide me, the chances I’d be able to spot them before they pounced were far too slim.
Chills ran down my spine, fueled further by the cold gnawing at my wet feet.
Something was watching me.
Was it a Dark One? The very thought had my stomach churning.
No one knew exactly where they resided, except for the fact that they prowled beyond the Veil.
There were strong chances of them being near the Temple of Borealis.
That fact was always established. I just hadn’t expected—had hoped—that I wouldn’t stumble right into their waiting hands.
I spun in countless circles, but it was no use. I did not know the shadows here, not like the ones coating the streets of Aedreath. These revealed nothing.
A scuff sounded from above the temple. Stone crumbled and fell, punctured by massive claws as a hulking shape leaned forward, enough for its upper body to hang over the lip of the structure.
Even cloaked with night, I immediately recognized the creature for what it was. After Wit, I could’ve done it in my sleep.
Blending with the darkness, the dragon roared loudly enough to rattle the trees.
But it wasn’t directed at me.
The earlier chittering rose in volume until it reached an ear-splitting screech.
Its owner darted through the forest, leaves and branches alike crunching and snapping under its feet at a pace that proved I would have not been able to outrun it under any circumstance.
Glowing, beady eyes blinked rapidly between two distant trees before disappearing completely.
That was what had been waiting for me.
Once the dragon deemed the creature far enough, it swung its head to face me, eyes narrowing into slits.
I backed all but two steps. My lungs heaved with the overwhelming instinct to get out of sight.
It tracked my every movement. Its eyes weren’t wholly white like the two other dragons that had hunted us during Wit.
No, this one had irises, though they were practically swallowed entirely by its pupils.
But it merely kept on staring, as if it was… waiting. Expectant.
I met its gaze head on, chin lifting defiantly.
I refused to cower. “If you choose to stand between me and the magic I deserve, so be it,” I called out.
I didn’t know if it mattered. If my words were being processed.
But I had to try. If there was one thing I’d learned from completing all three trials, it was that anything was possible.
“I have only one blade, but it is all I need to pierce through wing and flesh. Especially wing.”
The near translucent skin was likely tougher than it looked. But not impenetrable.
“Your choice, beast.”
Head bowing slightly, its eyes shuddered. It was almost as if it was speaking. Or trying to. Wind rustled through the forest. Leaves chimed in a language I couldn’t understand.
My heart ached anew. Brannon would’ve understood.
He deserved to be here, too. Deserved to listen to the winds beyond the Veil. To the secrets they carried.
But he wasn’t.
And so perhaps it was grief that had me thinking the dragon’s eyes looked familiar. Grief, and the faint light of the stars that did nothing to illuminate anything other than their shape. Their color, though, was indiscernible.
“Damn it all.”
Gritting my teeth against the stinging warmth threatening to spill across my lashes, I sprinted the remaining distance to the temple’s stairs, then took them three at a time. No claws shredded through my abdomen. No teeth clamped around my throat.
The dragon merely blinked. Watched.
I slammed by body against the heavy double doors, and nearly sobbed in relief when they swung inwards with ease. Sparing a final glance upwards, I slipped inside, trembling like a leaf.
There was no victory here. Not yet.
The dragon would likely try to slaughter me on my way out. It let me enter, knowing it was far easier to catch me this way than chasing me through the forest. A trap in its own right.
It didn’t matter if I got my hands on its treasure.
I would never be able to leave with it if it slashed its claws through me right as I walked through the archway.
And there was only one exit. A guarded exit.
I had no food, or any water. If I didn’t want to starve within the temple, I had to risk it.
And the dragon knew that, too.
There was no time to contemplate it. That dragon might prefer a waiting game, but others would not. There was no way to tell how many of them existed out here. And I didn’t want to be the poor soul who found out.
Hundreds, if not thousands of books lined the walls around me. The spines, however, were either blank, or titled in an old language I couldn’t read. Stranger still were the symbols scrawled upon a select few. But I wasn’t here for books.
I searched for anything else that screamed magic.
But the entire length of the wide space was empty, save for the books, and fifty dirt-laden pews leading to what must have been a statue, long since turned to dust. Only the base of it remained, a cracked gold plate hanging from its front.
From afar, I could spot the letters t and i engraved into the remains. The rest was lost to destruction.
This place was quieter than a crypt, air stale with disuse. Not even the dead lingered here.
Careful not to touch any of the pews while I crept closer to the statue’s remains, I found a lone, spiraling stairwell near its base which led underground.
All it would take was a mighty kick from the dragon above to send the floor, made of the same white stone as the temple’s exterior, crumbling down on my head. But I had no other choice.
I avoided any cracks and divots as I descended, deeper and deeper underground. Staleness quickly gave way to mildew and the scent of damp earth.
An oval-shaped chamber awaited at the bottom.
Instead of books, hundreds of small, transparent vials lined the shelves encircling the walls. Glowing, pearlescent liquid sparkled from within, bright enough that I had to squint when I picked one up to examine.
“This is it,” I whispered. “This has to be it.” The magic that would course through my veins and ignite them with power. The magic that would halt my descent into madness.
I glanced towards the stairwell, hoping Kodhan would come running down. But the temple remained as still as death, quiet save for the pounding of my heart and my trembling breaths.
Dread, sour and heavy, slid down my chest, taking root deep within my stomach. We were supposed to do this together. He’d promised he’d be right behind me.
He should have been right behind me.
Alive. He was still alive. I refused to believe otherwise.
Which meant I had to keep moving. Despite my bravado above-ground, I couldn’t save him from a hoard of dragons with just one blade. Neither could I heal him if he lay injured somewhere.
But with magic, I could.
Muffled by stone, a roar sounded from above as I uncorked the vial’s crystal stopper. The walls of the temple shook with the force of it, sending dust motes raining down from the high ceiling.
The dragon finally decided to act. Or more had arrived. Nevertheless, neither of those options were good. But even a dragon couldn’t act fast enough to stop me.
Throwing my head back, I slammed the vial to my lips, allowing the entirety of its contents to hit the back of my throat.
I expected it to burn—to scald my tongue and throat. But it was like swallowing shards of ice—the liquid thicker than the sap that ran along trees in the spring. I had to swallow three times to clear the entirety of it from the expanse of my esophagus.
It began slowly.
A pounding throb blossoming right in the center of my chest. Then it spread, pulsing through my arms, my stomach, my head. Until that throb gave way to pressure. Crushing, pulverizing pressure.
The worst of Diana’s beatings barely came close to the agony that tore through every fiber of my being.
Like every single bone in my body, from head to foot, was being snapped into tiny bits.
I embraced it. Let it claim me.
Because this is what I’d asked for. What I’d fought for.
Air. I needed air. But I couldn’t possibly make it up all those stairs. Not like this.
Gideon’s voice clanged throughout my mind as though he stood right behind me.
Move, or you die here.
“Damn it all,” I growled. And then I began the ascent.
The walls would sing the echoes of my screams for years to come.