Page 10 of Devoted in the Midlife

Luke's eyebrows shot up wolfishly. "I vote we skip the temple and just heist Jax's prize rock collection."

"Do not even think it." Izora's warning emerged half-snarl. "That diamond is beyond your comprehension."

Her venom surprised me— I guess Jax wasn't the only one with history there. But it worked wonders at refocusing our collective attention.

"Right then," I clapped briskly. "Plan Obtain Cursed Cutlery is a go. Jax will bring the box to the living room, and I'll grab the dagger sheathes."

Everyone nodded with varying degrees of solemnity and glee, filing out with a clatter of boots and gear. As I picked up the ancient leather sheathes, their solid weight reassuring in my hands, a sense of rightness settled in my spine.

Jax appeared in the hallway as if summoned by my thoughts, Courage cradled awkwardly in the crook of his arm like a shivering football. The tiny dog vibrated with distress, his rhinestone collar blinking frenetically. In his other hand was the box. I took it from him and kissed him before we made our way down to the living room.

"Don't let anything happen to my baby!" Izora called from the bottom of the stairs, maternal steel lacing her tone. "I will smite you in ways that transcend death if one hair on his precious head is harmed."

Jax held the shaking chihuahua slightly away from his body, as if Courage were a disgruntled grenade. He met my amused gaze with a beleaguered sigh.

When we all reached the living room, Kendra opened a portal to Kit’s temple ruins.

Massive tree roots cleaved ancient blocks of stone, and tendrils of mist curled possessively around crumbling columns. The scene looked like Indiana Jones' fever dream crossed with Jurassic Park.

"Woah," Luke breathed, stumbling slightly on a carpet of vines. "This place has some serious lost world vibes."

I couldn't disagree. The air hung heavy with damp earth and a hint of sulfur, like the jungle was slowly digesting the ruins. Birdsong and insect chatter blended into a constant thrumming backdrop.

"The Temple of the Eternal Flame," Adalinda murmured reverently, her eyes skyward. "Built by dragon acolytes in the time before time, to honor their celestial patrons."

My gaze followed hers up the towering stone walls, their once-precise edges blurred by relentless tropical growth. Sunlight filtered through the choked canopy, dappling across an arc of blackened murals near the sagging roof. I shaded my eyes, squinting.

"Are those...scorch marks?"

"Indeed." Adalinda nodded gravely, gliding across rubble with supernatural grace. "Legend tells of a great battle between dragons, long before humans walked the earth. Divine fire rained from above as the losers fell, incinerating the temple and its keepers."

As we picked our way closer, delicately etched scales and wings took shape beneath the oily soot. A serpentine tail curved through stylized flame, while cracked gemstone eyes winked in the filtered light. Even shattered and burnt, the artistry stole my breath.

"This is amazing," Zara whispered, reaching out to trace a singed claw. "I can almost feel the heat still."

"Don't touch that!" Kendra admonished sharply, swatting Zara's hand away. "We have no idea what kind of residual magic could still be lurking."

Zara pouted but withdrew, and I made a mental note to thank Kendra for her pragmatism later. As much as my inner archaeology nerd wanted to examine the murals for hours, we had a mission. Tearing my eyes away, I scanned the cavernous space.

"The vault should be in the deepest sanctum," Adalinda gestured toward a jagged crevice bisecting the far wall. Noxious fumes wafted from its depths. "Far beneath the blood of the earth."

"Naturally," Luke grimaced. "We couldn't just have a convenient dagger broom closet."

I squared my shoulders. "Time to embrace our inner Lara Croft."

The passageway twisted down into the wounded bedrock, claustrophobic and dank. Basalt walls glistened with mineralized seeps, and our footsteps echoed endlessly into the gloom ahead. The air grew staler with each tight corkscrew, and I found myself desperately missing the cloying jungle heat. After the third near-vertical ladder, even my enhanced vampire thighs burned.

"I’m starting to think these daggers don't want to be found," Luke huffed.

As if in response, the tunnel ended abruptly at a massive disc of obsidian, elaborately carved with draconic runes. Gemstones glittered in the dancing beams of our headlamps that looked likesome type of lock mechanism, fused into the volcanic glass. I ran my fingers across the largest glyph, an intricate geometric series of angles I instinctively recognized from the sheath.

"A celestial key," Adalinda whispered in wonder. "I had thought them only myth."

"The sheath is the key?" I raised an eyebrow at the ornate leather in my hand.

We set to work, examining the patterns for matches. Bit by frustrating bit, the sheath's endlessly nested corners found their corresponding grooves in the door's labyrinthine lock. Pressure plates clicked and ground with each new alignment, ancient tumblers falling into place like the world's most ominous puzzle box.

Finally, the last piece settled with a shuddering thud. For a breathless moment, nothing happened. Then, with the grating shriek of stone against stone, the entire door rolled ponderously sideways to reveal an arched opening. Stale, mineral-tinged air rushed past us into the chamber beyond.