Page 54

54

Reyla

F ire coiled down from the ceiling and arched toward the center of the room, seeking me where I remained pinned to the altar.

Farris barked.

With a cry, Lore snapped his arms around me and tried to spin me away from the altar. But the ring remained stuck in the depression, my hand locked to the ring. Trapped in place, I was bound to the middle of the room with my arm stretching out beneath a blaze determined to burn us alive.

Growling, Lore thrust his body between mine and the structure, sheltering me in his arms as well as he could.

But I could still see and…

The twin dragons froze, the scales on their arched bodies gleaming in the light still flickering at my fingertip I’d somehow kept burning. Their flames winked out, leaving a pall of scorched stone choking the air.

I gaped at the ceiling that remained unchanged, as if the dragons had merely flared like silent beacons before retreating into stillness. My pulse hammered in my ears, and I didn’t dare speak. The air crackled. I sensed something had changed.

No, that something lingered in the chamber with us.

Lore took my other hand, linking our fingers, and shifted around to stand by my side.

We watched. Waited. Because something was coming, something that?—

The hair on my arms prickled as a misty figure appeared between the dragons’ chests. It unfolded, the smoke of it curling upward, threads of it coalescing into something vaguely female. Her tattered, formless dress moved in an unfelt breeze. Her face remained missing, a featureless blur that unsettled me more than the flaming dragons had.

Her voice sent a chill through my chest and pierced the marrow of my bones.

“Restore what's divided,” she intoned, her arms undulating at her sides. “Essence. Devotion. Dominion. Evergorne. Halendor. Irridain.”

The names echoed in the chamber even after her voice was sucked away by the ether.

I blinked, the words vibrating in my mind, scrambling together before lining themselves up. My lips moved before my mind fully caught up, everything coming out in a rasped whisper. “The three rival courts.”

Lore's entire body coiled like he would lunge at a threat we couldn’t see but both felt. He said nothing.

With a puff, the spectral woman dissolved, her smoke-like form dispersing into threads of silver light that shot out through the room before snapping back to consume her.

For a heartbeat, the space she’d occupied hung empty.

Then three images wavered in the space.

A golden key with a gleaming blue stone.

A round, golden pendant with a glowing blood red stone in the center.

A golden featherdorn bird, its wings lifted in the slightest quiver. Alive yet equally frozen.

Each image pulsed once before blinking out, leaving the room drenched in darkness even my finger light couldn’t penetrate.

The depression released the ring, and I jerked away from the altar.

I held my breath and tightened my grip on Lore’s hand, wishing I could pull him into my arms and protect him. I sucked in power and blasted it to my fingertip until it blazed as bright as the flames the dragons had shot at the ceiling.

This wasn’t much better than the tortured shadows, but at least we could see.

The light bounced off Lore’s face. He looked as shaken as I felt.

“Alright,” I croaked, breaking the silence. My voice quavered, but at least it didn’t crack. A small victory right there.

Lore repeated the specter’s words, like he could tease the meaning from the shape of the sounds. “Restore what’s divided. Essence. Devotion. Dominion.”

“And three courts.” I linked the unspoken thought. “Evergorne. Halendor. Irridain.”

“Three concepts, three courts, three objects.” His focus returned to the altar, his green eyes sharpening as his mind churned. “The key is Evergorne. Essence. That one’s obvious. It ties to you and me.”

“Essence.” I nodded. “A fragmented soul with a cursed bloodline.” I looked down at the ring glinting on my finger, its blue stone catching the glow of my magic. “The wholeness that was split into two lives, two separate, distinct beings. It’s part of what you were, Lore. What Prager divided so cruelly. The key could symbolize identity or the ability to reclaim it.”

He turned toward me, and I wished my light could capture everything. I didn’t want to miss every nuance reflected on his face. “Keep going.”

I scratched my wrist. “Devotion encapsulates…love isn’t the right word, not completely. Maybe the choice to embrace someone entirely. Their flaws, their contradictions. Everything they are.” I dropped my hand back to my side, not missing the way his brow creased. “I suspect that’s a love none of the Evergorne kings found. And the pendant. The blood-red stone represents passion, but a binding one. Devotion. A love that doesn’t falter when it’s asked to make sacrifices. Halendor.”

Lore’s snort broke through my train of thought. “The king of Halendor is brutal. Conniving. I don’t believe he’s capable of any kind of love, let alone selfless devotion.”

“Three objects, three locations,” I pointed out. “He may not be involved.”

“Let’s hope not,” Lore muttered. His voice dipped into a dangerous growl. “Given the chance, I will kill him.”

I tilted my head. “Truly?”

“Without hesitation.”

“And Dominion?” I swallowed as I recalled the golden bird with its half-lifted wings. “It could represent what your ancestors sought but never properly held. Power. Leadership. The ability to unite and protect, the strength that was weakened because they were incomplete.” I ran my tongue over my teeth, hesitating before continuing. “The golden featherdorn… It represents both st rength and motion. And there’s beauty in that, yes, but it’s also vulnerable. I think it aligns with Irridain.”

Lore’s lips thinned, his expression darkening further. “Another king I’ll willingly slay.”

“Vicious, aren’t you?”

“No more than them.”

Enemies. Rivals for how many lifetimes? Could the curse tie into their rivalry as well?

“We’ll stay out of that king’s way too.” I focused on the altar, the ring on my finger, and the lingering unease warming my stomach.

“I think we need to go to each court,” Lore said. His voice came out hollow, like he expected we’d encounter more obstacles than the riddle implied.

“The three objects could be talismans. All this suggests we need to find them and use what’s still divided in some way, per the fate-like being who just visited us.” My heart tightened to the point my head spun, but I forced out my frustration with an exhale. “We’ll infiltrate the courts, find these talismans, and hope we can use them to end the curse.”

His solemn gaze met mine. “We don’t have much time.”

Farris’s mournful howl rang out, echoing in the room.

I blinked fast to keep from giving way to tears.

“Two weeks. Six days,” Lore said softly. “I could give you the hours and minutes left if you'd like.”