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Why was the dark different here?

They walked down perhaps a dozen more tunnels, each twisting deeper into the mountain.

Through chattering teeth, she said, “How much longer?”

The guards walked silently for another minute before stopping abruptly, placing themselves on either side of the tunnel. They tapped spears against the ground twice, their eyes fixed ahead.

Colton stood at the end of the bend of this particular tunnel, past the other guards, and said, “The prince is this way.”

Eyes narrowing, she strode between the warriors, who didn’t move as she walked.

As she strode past Colton, she paused, seeing that he—and the other guards—remained where they were. “You’re not coming?”

He shook his head. “This isn’t a place for just anyone. Consider yourself fortunate that the prince has chosen to bring you here. It’s an honor.”

She nodded to the torch in his hand. “Mind if I borrow that? It seems the shadows in this place are a bit… different.”

He passed it to her before turning back toward the other guards. “Far more different than you could ever imagine.” The words were spoken over his shoulder, and he didn’t offer an explanation.

In moments, he and the other guards disappeared into the tunnels, taking the only other sources of light with them.

Exhaling heavily, she turned to where he’d indicated and began walking in that direction. In moments, the tunnel opened into a massive cavern three times the size of the one they’d been training in.

How big is this mountain?

The impenetrable dark receded to the corners of the room. But rather than mounted torches throughout the room, there were hundreds of candles lighting the space. Throughout the cavern were a series of flat stones that had been pressed into the dirt. As she took a step into the room, she realized there was a script carved onto small stones placed in neat rows on the ground.

Gravestones, she realized.

At the center of the room was a long rectangular stone slab.

Prince Arden stood before it, his back turned to her. Leaning forward, his palms pressed against the stone. She noticed then that some of the impenetrable shadows lurked around the base of the stone slab.

Placing her torch in a holder on the wall near the entrance, she strode toward the room’s center, careful to walk around the candles.

“Prince.” She stopped a few feet from him, inclining her head in deference, uncertain whether to bow. Although they’d never had such formalities during their training, it was clear that whatever this place was, it was akin to a holy place for the shadow fae. And she wanted to be respectful of their traditions.

Something felt different about this room, this moment.

The air felt thick with possibilities and power. It was unlike the enchantresses’ earthen magic. Rather than a warm energy rumbling through the veins of the earth, this felt like shifting icebergs submerged in the northern oceans. It was the frosty core of the universe. It was the shattering quiet that sucked all light inward until there was nothing left but the unending cold.

This power was ancient. More ancient than the fae or anything she’d felt. Perhaps even more powerful than Magnus. Was this the beating heart of the Abyss? Was this the power that had formed this underrealm?

When Arden still hadn’t turned toward her, she said, “You summoned me?”

He leaned forward, his breath pluming in the air as his back slowly rose and fell. “Yes.” His voice was strangely distant, as though his thoughts were far away. “I want to discuss something with you.”

Ignoring the hammering of her heart, she said, “There’s something I’d like to talk about, too.”

Turning to her then, his eyes locked with hers.

Beyond his irises, there was a lurking pool of inky black. A strange magic surged within him, and there was a twin torrent within the room itself.

On instinct, she placed a hand on the hilt of one of the blades sheathed at her waist as the hairs along her arms stood on end.

It had nothing to do with the cold.

His gaze shifted to the cavern before settling on the stones on the ground.