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The entrance was tucked at the end of a narrow alley. The smell that lingered in the stairwell was clean and damp.

Like an underground cathedral, the main chamber was enormous, with raw crystal walls that sliced down into the dark.

The ceiling was arched, supported by a forest of marble columns that rose from the water, each crusted with thousands of tiny blue gems. Aether shimmered in their depths, glowing softly and filling the room—the water—with ripples and veins of shattering blue light.

A narrow maintenance boardwalk stretched across the water, the only path forward. The wooden planks had a bit of give underfoot, bobbing gently as Taly waded out. Her entourage followed close behind. The glow of the crystals framed their silhouettes, casting long, dancing shadows on the walls.

“Well, that’s not good,” Sarina murmured, peering over the edge of the boardwalk, where fish swam listlessly below the water’s surface.

Taly followed her gaze. The fish moved slowly, their gold-and-black scales dulled, some flecked with white. One drifted sideways, its gills flaring weakly before it righted itself.

Ivain’s voice echoed in her mind. That’s how you know the water is safe, he’d said the first time he brought her down here. The crystals—they can’t remove every impurity, which is why we have the fish. If the fish can’t survive, then neither can we.

But the fish weren’t surviving. They were sick.

Taly knelt beside the water. Why hadn’t anyone checked? Surely, there was someone assigned to test the health of the water.

She’d just have to be extra careful not to swallow any.

Taly toed off her boots.

Skye’s face was incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

Except that she was. And she proved it by jumping in the frigid water.

“What the—gah!” Skye let out a wordless scream as he kicked off his boots. “You’re not helping,” he barked to a laughing Sarina.

The cold hit like a slap, but he took a breath and dove beneath the surface.

The world around him was eerily quiet, muted in the stillness of the submerged temple. Blue water crystals glowed faintly in the hollowed columns he passed, their light shimmering like unblinking eyes watching his descent.

Small fish darted through the water, weaving in and out of the ancient structure.

Just ahead, he could see Taly. She moved like someone who knew exactly where she was going. Her legs kicked in a strong, practiced rhythm, arms pulling cleanly through the blue-tinged water as she pushed deeper into the ruins.

Skye surged forward, closing nothing. Taly was still pulling ahead—faster now, stronger.

She moved past a school of fish, their silver bodies flashing like shards of light. The massive, crumbling arches of the temple framed her.

Then she slowed.

Her body stilled, focus sharpening, locked onto something ahead.

The statue loomed out of the depths, pulled into view by the shifting light.

Algae clung to its surface in ragged patches, eating away at the once-pristine stone.

Long trails of green and brown swayed lazily in the current, draped over its carved shoulders like a mantle.

Cracks ran through its torso, like veins etched deep into the stone, and barnacles clustered around its base.

And in its outstretched palm was a light, green and glowing.

Skye’s eyes locked on the earth crystal in the statue’s hand. He jolted, air escaping in a rush of bubbles before instinct reined him in. He knew what it was. Didn’t need to get closer to confirm. He could taste it in the water—metallic and wrong.

Taly hovered just in front of it. She wasn’t moving. Her eyes were fixed on the weathered face of the statue, its carved features dimly lit by the pulsing green glow of the gem.

With a powerful kick, he closed the distance between them. His hand closed around her wrist. The sudden touch startled her, and her head snapped toward him, her eyes wide and questioning.

Skye jerked his head sharply toward the surface, his expression making it clear they weren’t negotiating.

She reached for the gem. He dragged her back through the water before she could touch it. She pointed stubbornly, and he nodded as if to say, leave it to me .

Surprisingly, she didn’t argue. She seemed almost glad to get away.

With her rising toward the surface, he stripped off his shirt.

The fabric swirled in the current as he wrapped it around the glowing stone.

The gem’s light dimmed slightly through the layers, but its pulse was still visible, like a heartbeat.

He gave the statue one last glance, then pushed off, rising fast.

Taly broke the surface with a sharp gasp, cool air cutting through the burn in her lungs. Behind her, Skye emerged in a burst of water.

They swam for the boardwalk. Sarina crouched low, flames curling around her hands as she reached for them.

Taly grabbed hold. The heat wrapped around her instantly, pulling the cold from her skin as water hissed and steamed off her clothes. She slumped onto the damp wood, chest heaving.

Skye was muttering something about reckless time mages while Sarina turned her attention to him, tutting and clucking like a mother hen.

Taly panted into the wood. She didn’t trust herself to rise.

They were close—she could hear them—but their voices felt distant, warped by the rush of blood in her ears.

Her breath came faster, short and shallow. Her head swam.

No air.

Her chest tightened, ribs locked.

Breathe .

But she couldn’t.

The statue—time and water had softened its features, but not enough to erase them. It was the same sharp angles. The same awesome, unrelenting—

“Taly?”

Skye’s voice cut through the haze of rising panic. She barely registered the sound of Sarina protesting behind him, or the quiet hiss of flames retreating as he shrugged her off.

He crouched beside her, his brows drawn tight. His gaze swept over her face, reading every twitch, every tremble.

“Talk to me.” He spoke softly, like calm was something he could lend her, if he just kept his voice even enough. “What’s going on?”

Taly shook her head, damp strands of hair whipping across her cheeks.

Nothing that was possible. Nothing that she—

A creak echoed over the water.

Taly turned, staring down the length of the boardwalk.

“Taly?” he said again.

But her gaze was fixed where the shadows pooled.

Skye followed the line of her vision. He stiffened.

She had to swallow to get the words out. “Do you see it too?”

A silhouette against the black, it was wrong in every way. Emaciated and frail, its form hunched as if the weight of its own existence was too much to bear.

And yet, the face—it wasn’t whole. Chunks of it were missing, eaten away like the stone of the statue.

But the eyes… they hadn’t changed.

Gold. Sharp. Unrelenting.

The monster who killed the grimble—it was here.

A slow tilt of the head. Hair, no longer straight and flaxen, fell across a bony shoulder in a ragged, tangled mat.

“Kairó vuun’manii?”

Taly’s breath hitched, and the sob escaped before she even realized it was there.

Calcifer growled, his tail swishing. His paws tapped the boardwalk as he lurched back and forth uncertainly.

“I don’t know,” Sarina said to the frantic mimic. “I can’t see anything either.”

Skye could see. In his face, it was there—recognition.

His eyes zeroed in on the nightmare that had somehow crossed over into the waking world, and his body tensed for the fight.

The creature moved, the shuffle of its malnourished frame unnervingly silent against the damp wood of the boardwalk. The faint light of the water crystals set into the columns caught on its jagged edges, highlighting the gaping voids in its face.

Taly couldn’t move. Couldn’t look away. The monster’s gaze locked on her, golden eyes unblinking. It didn’t waver—not once. All that terrible focus, aimed right at her.

Still trying to find her breath, she roughly tugged up her sleeve to see the words Ivain had tattooed for her.

Can you read this?

Yes, she could and— fuck!

With a grotesque, deliberate motion, it reached up, skeletal fingers curling around the crown perched atop its battered head. The metal gleamed faintly—dull, tarnished—as though it had been pulled from the depths of the same ruin she’d just left behind.

“I dreamed of you.”

The melody had rotted. Now, each word rasped like bone across stone, cracked and weathered with age.

“All those years spent sleeping in the dark, I dreamed of you.”

It lowered the crown carefully, almost reverently, before setting it on the damp wood between them. The movement was smooth, calculated, as if it were placing an offering. Or a demand.

“For my third gift,” it croaked, “as is the tradition, I give you the Vis’hallan. The dawn itself shall be the symbol of your reign.”

Taly’s pulse thundered, her eyes locked on the crown. There was something about it—something… alive . The metal thrummed with presence, like a soul trapped beneath the surface, pressing to be seen.

Then Skye shifted.

Without a word, he stepped forward, his body angling to shield her. His shadow loomed over the crown, cutting off the monster’s direct line of sight.

The creature hissed, and its eyes snapped to Skye.

The tension in the air thickened, the space between them brimming with an unspoken challenge.

Skye didn’t flinch. “You can’t have her.” His voice was low and edged with steel. “Get out.”

The monster regarded him. For a moment, it seemed to weigh the risk. Then it grinned, pale lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth.

It didn’t retreat. It simply faded, the edges of its form dissolving into the dark, as though the shadows had claimed it as one of their own. The air grew still, the oppressive weight of its presence lifting—mostly.

The crown remained, gleaming on the wet wood.