Page 46

KAELITH

A sliver of pink light spills across the rugged slope as dawn breaks, painting the sky in cautious pastels that do little to ease the roil in my chest. My thigh wound, once a bloody crater, now itches under its half-stone scab, a reminder that Sariah’s healing synergy saved my life yet again.

The tether hums with a subtle current each time I so much as glance her way.

She’s standing nearby, scanning the mountain pass for any sign of Nerezza’s brood.

Her shoulders remain tense from everything we’ve endured.

I should feel relief. The lesser gargoyles that ambushed us retreated hours ago.

We survived. But peace is fleeting. A heavy dread coils in my gut—Nerezza is still out there, orchestrating every monstrous turn of events with the casual cruelty I once believed she’d never show.

My mind replays her illusions from earlier encounters, the way her spectral form taunted me, hinting at how she might fix my bond with Sariah or sever it altogether. She thrives on sowing doubt and fear.

I rub a clawed hand across my face, forcing those memories aside.

We have ground to cover. If Drayveth’s group remains alive, they’re nowhere in sight.

Sariah and I have resumed the trek toward Snowfall Glen alone.

The plan is to circle the mountain’s base, bypass a steep ravine that’s infested with twisted gargoyles, and hopefully find a trail leading to the purnas’ territory.

“Sariah,” I murmur, voice echoing softly in the crisp air. “We should move soon.”

She turns, a small, determined smile flickering across her lips.

“Yes. The longer we linger, the greater the chance Nerezza’s brood returns.

” She shoulders her staff, the brand on her wrist flickering silver.

Through our bond, I sense her lingering exhaustion from channeling so much magic to heal me the night before, yet her resolve remains unwavering.

My chest aches with fierce gratitude—and guilt.

She shouldn’t have to keep bailing me out.

I pivot away from her, scanning the ridgeline for movement. My wings tighten involuntarily at the memory of those lesser gargoyles diving at us, but the sky remains empty. At least for now. “Stay close,” I say quietly, offering her my arm. She hesitates, glancing at the tether’s faint glow.

A flicker of sorrow crosses her face—some silent question about whether I’m pushing her away again.

Our talk last night ended with a tentative truce between my fears and her unwavering faith.

I promised to try trusting her fully. So I force a small nod.

She steps close, hooking her arm with mine.

The tether warms, an intimate hum that both comforts and unsettles me.

I can’t lose her, but neither can I let her turn into the next Nyxari.

We set off, descending a slope of scattered boulders and slick gravel, the sun climbing above the ridge.

The wind is mild, carrying the distant scent of pine, but also a faint undertone of rot that lingers from the monstrous gargoyles.

I keep my wings half-extended for balance, tail flicking with each step.

Sariah and I exchange minimal words, tension from the previous battles making conversation feel risky.

We’re both scanning for threats at every turn.

By midday, we reach a narrow defile, a place where two steep cliffs almost meet, leaving a slim passage wide enough for a single file.

My instincts prick at the unnatural hush.

A sense of foreboding creeps over me. I motion for Sariah to hang back, stepping forward to test the rocky ground.

The tether pulses with alarm, reflecting her caution.

One more step—and I freeze. A subtle shift in the air triggers a memory of Nerezza’s illusions. My skin tingles, runes flickering in protest. Something’s off.

“Sariah,” I hiss under my breath, “there might be a trap.” She nods, staff at the ready, eyes scanning the cliffs. We stand poised, waiting for gargoyles to swoop down. But the sky remains empty. The path, though narrow, appears deserted.

We inch forward another few strides, hugging the rock walls.

The ground slopes downward, then broadens into a small plateau.

Boulders form a ringlike shape, reminiscent of some ancient gathering site.

A tangle of shriveled shrubs clings to the cracks.

I swallow, runes flickering faster. I know this clearing.

My heart pounds as recognition dawns. This place… it looks eerily similar to a memory from centuries past, back when Nerezza and I traveled together, forging alliances between gargoyles and purna. My wings tremble. Is this real, or another illusion?

“Sariah,” I whisper, voice taut. “We should leave.”

She blinks, surprise coloring her features. “Why? It’s just a clearing. Might be a decent campsite if it’s safe.”

Safe? The word tears at me. My claws dig into my palms. “I… I sense Nerezza’s presence,” I manage. “We can’t?—”

The air shimmers, cutting me off. My runes blaze in warning. Sariah gasps, brand flaring silver. Reality warps around us, and the ring of boulders flickers like a mirage in desert heat. My throat tightens. Too late.

A swirl of darkness expands in the center of the clearing, morphing into the regal figure that haunts my every nightmare.

Nerezza, or her projection, stands tall in swirling black robes that drift around her ankles like living shadows.

Her eyes glow a deep crimson, hair floating in an ethereal breeze that ruffles her illusions. My entire body goes rigid. She’s here.

Sariah chokes back a cry, staff raised. I brace myself, wings half-flared, tail lashing the dust. “Nerezza,” I snarl, voice echoing in the hush. No illusions of greeting or subtlety this time. She’s brazen in her trap.

She smiles, that same seductive, mocking curve of her lips that once made me weak. “Ah, Kaelith. Dearest gargoyle, we meet again.” Her gaze flicks to Sariah, dismissive, then returns to me with a predatory gleam. “You’ve recovered from our little fiasco with the brood, I see.”

Sariah steps forward, trembling with anger. “Leave us alone,” she demands, brand sizzling faint arcs of light. “We know you’re orchestrating these attacks, driving gargoyles to slaughter innocents.”

Nerezza laughs, the sound echoing off the stone walls.

“You flatter me. The lesser gargoyles do require… encouragement to follow my commands, but they’re so eager to please.

” She eyes Sariah with mild contempt. “And you, little purna, continue to amuse me. Clinging to a gargoyle once beloved by me. Do you truly think you can keep him safe?”

My runes flare at her words. I step protectively between them. “You’re not the same being I once admired,” I growl. “Whatever love we had died centuries ago, with your cruelty.”

Her face flickers with momentary pain, then hardens to cold fury.

“You speak of cruelty, Kaelith? Did you not seal me away, forcing me to languish in darkness? We could have soared beyond mortal strife, but you chained me.” She raises a hand, swirling black energy coalescing around her fingers.

“I’ve forgiven you, but my generosity has limits. ”

Sariah’s brand pulses in alarm. She grips her staff, lips peeled back in a silent snarl. “If you think we’ll kneel to you?—”

Nerezza cuts her off with a disdainful wave.

“Kneel? Hardly. I offer you both a chance to transcend mortal shackles.” Her scarlet gaze settles on me again.

“Especially you, Kaelith. Do you truly want to spend your time fawning over a lesser purna, watching her totter along, flirting with darkness she can’t hope to master?

Why not join me? I can sever that inconvenient tether, restore you to the apex of gargoyle power.

We’ll rule together, as we once dreamed. ”

My entire body shakes with revulsion, yet I can’t deny the pang of old guilt. We did dream of forging a utopia, bridging gargoyle and purna. I believed in her so fervently. I clench my claws, forcing the memory aside. “You twisted that dream into horror. I’ll never stand with you again.”

She sighs, a theatrical sadness. “You keep saying that, and yet…” Her eyes flick to Sariah, a malicious smile curving.

“You’ve replaced me with a mere child who can barely control her magic.

Do you think she’ll spare you from heartbreak when her brand consumes her mind?

Drayveth’s coven has already labeled her Nyxari.

Face facts, Kaelith. She’s following in my footsteps. ”

Sariah sucks in a sharp breath. I feel her heartbreak spike through the tether, recalling Drayveth’s condemnation. My wings twitch, a surge of protective anger flooding me. “Stop it,” I growl, stepping forward. “We see your games.”

Nerezza’s eyes narrow, swirling black energy intensifying around her hand. “Such devotion. Touching. Let me show you how I can free you from that devotion.” She lifts her other hand, and the air warps. My runes blaze in alarm, but the illusion slams into me before I can move.

“No!” Sariah cries. I barely register her voice. Shadows envelop my vision. The world tilts, leaving me disoriented. Nerezza’s illusions. She’s pulling me into her psychic snare, forcing me to relive memories of our past love.

My mind reels as images assault me: Nerezza and I standing atop a mountain peak centuries ago, the sky blazing with sunrise.

She laughs, warm and untainted, her white hair blowing across her face as I grin at her.

The memory feels so vivid, so heartbreakingly real.

This was before everything decayed, before she unleashed chaos.