Page 16 of Crowned by the Shadow (Bound by the Veil #5)

Chapter

Eleven

Senara

The obsidian corridors twisted like the inside of a massive serpent, each turn revealing fresh horrors.

Veins of corruption pulsed through the black crystal walls, casting sickly purple light that made our shadows dance like tormented spirits.

The diadem on my head grew heavier with each step, as if resisting the Empress’s influence that permeated this place.

“Can you sense her?” Thorn whispered, his voice barely audible over the strange humming that seemed to emanate from the very structure around us.

At first I thought he meant the Empress, but then I realized he was talking about Wyn.

I pushed all thoughts of the corruption away and closed my eyes, focusing on the pendant against my chest. It responded with a faint pulse, guiding me forward like a compass needle.

“This way,” I murmured, turning down a corridor that sloped gently downward.

Ronan followed silently, his weapon drawn, eyes constantly scanning our surroundings.

As much as I had resisted going to save his village, I felt so much safer having him at our backs than if it had just been the two of us.

I knew Thorn would do everything he could to keep me safe, but with not being able to find Van or Volker, I was glad for the added member in our party.

The tension in Ronan’s shoulders mirrored my own though, and I couldn’t stop the prickle of guilt that ran through me at the thought of dragging him in to this.

There was something deeply wrong with this place and yet I couldn’t put my finger on what was off.

The air itself felt thick with malice, so much so that I could almost taste it on my tongue.

We passed chambers filled with strange artifacts and devices I couldn’t begin to comprehend. In one, crystalline structures, which somehow hovered in midair, pulsed with energy. In another, what appeared to be a map of the stars shifted and realigned itself as we watched.

“What is all this?” Ronan breathed, his eyes wide.

“Knowledge,” Thorn replied grimly. “The Shadow Dragons were, or maybe still are, collectors of information and especially secrets, at least from what I know. Either way, it looks like Eldric has continued the tradition or at the very least contributed his own knowledge and secrets from what Senara has seen in her visions.”

The pendant grew warmer as we descended deeper into the fortress.

I was concerned that we hadn’t seen anyone while we were walking around.

The halls were empty, even though in my vision I’d seen people, dragonkin, wandering around in the courtyards, yet there were none in the castle proper, which made me wonder what was going on.

As the corruption covered ever more of the walls, my mark burned ever brighter against my skin, but it was the corruption threading through it, spreading like dark veins that made my gut churn with dread. I tried to ignore the cold sensation creeping through my blood, focusing instead on Wyn.

“She’s close,” I whispered as we approached a set of massive double doors, carved with intricate runes that seemed to shift and change as we watched. “I can feel her.”

The doors weren’t locked. Why would they be? Eldric not only wanted us there, but was expecting us. The large obsidian panels were cold under my fingers and I barely had to push on them for them to swing open at my touch. Beyond lay a vast chamber that took my breath away.

Above us, the ceiling soared high and wide; the walls curving inward to form a perfect dome of polished obsidian, which reflected our images in distorted, nightmarish ways.

The veins that ran through the rock made us appear disjointed.

At the center of the room stood a raised dais, upon which a familiar figure was suspended in midair.

“Wyn,” I gasped, starting forward.

Thorn caught my arm, pulling me back. “Wait,” he warned, eyes narrowed. “Look.”

I followed his gaze and saw what he’d noticed. The floor between us and the dais was inscribed with concentric circles of runes, pulsing with that same sickly purple light. The outer ring began only a step in front of where we stood.

“A ritual circle,” Ronan murmured. “Step inside, and you become part of whatever spell he’s casting.”

My eyes returned to Wyn. She hung limply in the air, arms outstretched, head bowed.

The corruption I’d seen in my vision had spread further.

Dark veins now covered most of her visible skin, and her silver hair had darkened to slate gray streaked with purple.

She looked... changed. Not just physically, but in some fundamental way I couldn’t articulate.

“How touching,” a smooth voice echoed through the chamber. “The Eclipse Child arrives, right on schedule.”

Eldric stepped out from behind the dais, his silver, animalistic mask catching the light. He moved with unnatural grace, each step precise and measured. In his hand, he carried the corrupted, bastardized version of the Starforged Mirror I’d seen in my vision.

“Let Wyn go. Your quarrel is with me.” My voice was stronger and more determined than I had expected, which was a relief. Inside I was terrified I’d have to watch Wyn die after everything she’d been through.

“Quarrel?” Eldric’s laugh echoed strangely, as if coming from multiple throats at once. “I have no quarrel with you, Eclipse Child. Quite the opposite. I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”

He stepped onto the dais, circling Wyn’s suspended form. “Your friend has been most accommodating. Her transformation progresses beautifully. A perfect vessel.”

“Vessel for what?” Thorn demanded, his hand tightening on his sword.

“For rebirth,” Eldric replied simply. “For change. For the coming convergence.”

My patience snapped. “Enough riddles! What have you done to her?”

“I’ve given her a gift,” Eldric said, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow carried across the entire chamber. “The same gift I’m offering you. Understanding. Power. Purpose.”

He raised the corrupted mirror, its surface swirling with darkness. “The Void isn’t what you think, Eclipse Child. It isn’t evil—it’s simply... other. Different. Your predecessors never understood this. They fought against it, tried to contain it. And they all failed.”

“Like Fiona,” I said, watching his reaction carefully.

The mask hid his expression, but I saw his shoulders stiffen slightly. “Fiona,” he repeated, the name sounding strange on his tongue. “Yes. The last Eclipse Child. She was... disappointing.”

“You knew her,” I pressed. “You cared for her, didn’t you?”

Eldric was silent for a long moment. Then, with deliberate slowness, he raised his hands to his mask.

“Perhaps it’s time we spoke plainly,” he said, fingers working at the clasps that held the silver mask in place. “Face to face.”

The mask came away with a soft click.

I couldn’t suppress my gasp of horror. The face beneath was split in two.

One half looked almost human or fae, with high cheekbones and an elegant brow; the other half scaled and reptilian, with a slitted eye that glowed amber in the dim light.

But it wasn’t just the dragonkin features that shocked me, it was the corruption that had wove across the dragonkin half of his face.

Veins of darkness spread from his dragon eye, pulsing with the same sickly light as the runes on the floor.

“Yes,” he said, noticing my reaction. “Not what you expected, I imagine.”

“What happened to you?” I whispered.

Eldric smiled, the expression grotesque on his half-transformed face. “Evolution. Adaptation. Survival.” He gestured to his corrupted features. “This is the price of knowledge, Eclipse Child. The price of understanding what truly lies beyond the Veil. Of trying to save my people, and failing.”

He set the mask down on the dais and moved toward us, his feet always seeming to land where there were no marks, as though he’d walked this path a million times before. I wanted to ask what he meant, but I also didn’t want to interrupt whatever was happening to make him share information with us.

“I was there when Fiona failed,” he continued. “You’re right, I did care for her, but not enough.” He nodded toward Thorn. “I believed in her mission. I believed we could stop the Empress, seal her away forever.”

His dragon eye flashed with inner fire. “I was a fool. When the moment came, when Fiona faced the Empress, I watched her die. I watched her light extinguished. And in that moment, as the Void reached for me, I understood.”

“Understood what?” Ronan asked, his voice tight with suspicion.

“That we cannot fight the inevitable,” Eldric replied. “The Void Dragon Empress is coming. The convergence approaches, and as it does, the cosmic prison weakens. These are facts, immutable and absolute.”

“So you surrendered,” I said, disgust rising in my throat. “You let the Void corrupt you.”

“No!” For the first time, Eldric’s composure cracked. “I transcended! The Void showed me truths your small mind cannot comprehend. It showed me that there’s no difference between fae and dragonkin. We are all just ants in the face of the void and the Empress.”

He gestured to Wyn’s suspended form. “Just as it’s showing your friend. The transformation is painful, yes, but necessary. The Twilight Mage must be born.”

“Twilight Mage?” Thorn repeated, confusion evident in his voice.

“A perfect balance,” Eldric explained, his voice regaining its eerie calm. “Neither light nor dark. Neither void nor substance. Life nor death. A bridge between worlds.” He turned back to me. “Just as you are, Eclipse Child. Sun and Moon. Beginning and end. Day and night.”

I shook my head, refusing to accept his twisted logic. “You’re insane.”

“Am I?” Eldric smiled again. “Or am I the only sane one left? I’ve seen beyond the Veil. I’ve glimpsed what lies in the spaces between stars. And I know that resistance is not only futile, but unnecessary.”