Page 41 of Legacy of the Heirs (The Lost Kingdom Saga #2)

“So, I will quickly scale the rock, stick my arm behind lava, and search for a talisman that we hope is there,” Nyzaia mocked as Rafik tied the rope around her and secured it in place.

“I will follow; I know some spots,” said Farid, tying the second rope around himself.

“How do you know all this?” Nyzaia asked. Jabir reached forward to tighten Farid’s rope, who stepped away before he could.

“I worked here,” Farid said, passing Jabir the end of the rope and backing towards the cliff edge. He stared back at their surprised faces, Nyzaia’s included. “Are we beginning?”

“I guess so,” Nyzaia said, matching Farid’s stance.

Jabir and Issam each held one rope and braced their legs as Nyzaia pushed off the edge with Farid in tow.

In her twenty-five years of life, she never expected to scale the edge of the forge.

Her footing felt secure as she lowered, the temperatures rising as they approached the starting point of the lava flow.

She looked up at Farid, who waited for a nod of confirmation.

When she returned the nod, they continued.

The stream of lava was surprisingly loud from where it exploded from the rock face.

The heat differed from the sensations she felt when controlling her flames, and she flinched as the stream spat and burned her skin.

At least that answered her question about the lava.

Nyzaia peered down at the lava stream to where it met the boiling river below, trying not to think about how it could kill her if she fell.

Farid was right. When Nyzaia lowered several more inches, the lava flowed out and away from the wall, likely from the pressure.

“You should be approaching two small openings now,” Farid called.

Nyzaia reached to the left, wincing at the heat emanating from the lava.

It was hot, even for her. Her fingers found a small hole, no bigger than two of her hands, and the surface was rough and jagged when she reached in.

Untouched. She shook her head at Farid, who pointed down.

“There should be a larger one next.”

Nyzaia nodded and slowly descended once more, hearing the rubble fall below her.

“Three more steps,” Farid called. One. Two. Nyzaia’s foot slipped, and parts of the rock face suddenly began crumbling and falling away. She gasped as her feet slid below her, slamming her into the rock. Her hands burned as she held onto the rope and pulled herself up to reposition her feet.

“Are you okay!”

Nyzaia nodded, though her hands trembled.

This may put me off heights, she thought while regulating her breathing.

She turned her head to examine the wall and found a different opening.

It was far bigger than the previous, large enough for Nyzaia and Farid if they squeezed in.

She scanned the spot, using the lava as a torch as the sun began to fade.

A glint of metal caught her eye on the far side of the opening.

It was a streak of metal ore, as if someone had carved the rock and poured the metal inside it.

In the centre was a small broken piece. The talisman.

“I think I see it!” she called to Farid, who began lowering himself towards her. She reached for the opening, trying to pull herself close enough to hook her leg over and climb in.

“I can’t quite reach!” She shouted over the gushing lava crashing into the river below.

“Wait! I will be there in a moment!” Farid yelled. Nyzaia reached again, the temperature scorching as she attempted to slot her arm under the gap. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she pushed her body to its limits, her muscles burning as she attempted to hook her foot for purchase.

“I have an idea!” She lowered her leg and took a deep breath before pushing away at an angle, swinging sideways in the hope of creating enough momentum to make the distance.

“Nyzaia! Wait!” Farid shouted, but she pushed again with a forceful swing.

It worked. “Nyzaia! Your rope!” Farid yelled, hurrying down the wall to reach her.

She looked up at the rope as she tried to haul herself onto the ledge.

Her eyes widened. A glow slowly blazed across the rope and worked its way down.

Nyzaia waved her hand to distinguish the embers, but no fire was left to latch onto.

The rope blackened and frayed before she could make the final push into the opening. Then it snapped.

“Nyzaia!” Farid cried as she plummeted with the flow of lava towards the scorching lake below.

Nyzaia screamed and tried not to flail her arms as her body rotated with the force of falling.

A sea of orange blurred before her: the setting sun, the canyon rocks, the scorching lava.

She focused on nothing as she fell through the air, the flow of lava seconds away.

Nyzaia summoned all her strength and willed the lava to part—anything to avoid plunging into it headfirst—but nothing worked.

Would she survive this? Was a connection to the God of Fire enough to keep her alive?

Something hit her then, and Nyzaia screamed as flames engulfed her and a force sent her flying.

But Nyzaia was not propelled into the lava river to be met by death; she was thrown into darkness.

Her body screamed in pain as she hit a hard surface.

Fire blazed around her, though it was not her own.

It retracted, pulling away, and when she opened her eyes, she faced a dark wall.

She did not understand how she was alive.

Her eyes adjusted to the cave-like space, lit by an all-encompassing glow.

Nyzaia blinked, grasping a hand to her side as she slowly turned her body towards the source of the light.

It was not her own flames lighting the way nor the lava flowing from the opening.

It was Farid. He knelt in the opening, panting.

His pale blue eyes glowed in the darkness, a sign of power.

But it was not his eyes Nyzaia focused on; it was the glow emitting from the blazing, feathered wings protruding from his back.

“Please do not tell anyone.”