Page 30

ENTOMBED IN AMBER

M y brain refused to rest. I huffed, tossing my blankets off my body. It was the night before the final trial, and numerous outrageous scenarios ran amok. The unknown of what the Winnowing could bring stalked me through every corner of my mind.

Over the last six months, I’d learned that anything was possible—especially in a dream realm. It didn’t matter, though, because everything I went through, every relationship I’d lost or gained … it would all be erased.

Kaden’s mischievous smirk flashed behind my scrunched eyelids.

Maybe it was for the best. If I was a coward for wanting to take his pain and anger away—for not wanting to feel the crushing guilt—so be it. I was exhausted down to the marrow.

He was still avoiding me, and icy sections of my heart chipped away with every passing day.

I missed my best friend.

The scrape of metal against metal echoed in the hallway while the soft radiance of the full moon filled my room. I slid from bed, quickly pulling on my training breeches and sliding my dagger into its scabbard. I tucked my silken nightshirt in the waistband and pulled on my socks and ankle boots as a rustling noise shuffled further down the hall.

Tiptoeing toward my door, I cracked it open, wincing as the hinges creaked. I froze, met with silence. Air rushed in through my nose as I slipped through the small gap, nerves rattling through my limbs.

A stretching shadow raced around the corner that led down to the foyer below as I pulled the pewter barrier closed with a soft click.

As I rushed over the stone in pursuit, my boots were soundless. I peeked over the balcony, glimpsing the shadow gliding toward the Great Hall.

After descending, I snuck into the room, avoiding the center where the moon cast its beams through the line of windows depicting its phases. I felt along the left wall as my eyes adjusted to the dark.

A soft tick sounded ahead of me like a pebble bouncing off a stone. I gulped, taking a step back. And bumped into something solid.

My startled squeak rent the air before a large, warm palm covered my mouth and another wrapped around my biceps.

“Keep quiet, Little Star.” Gavrel’s warm breath rushed across my cheek.

“Bollocks,” I snarled, turning to face him and swatting his shoulder, which was like slapping a boulder. I flexed and shook out my hand, frowning at him. “Why the bleeding void are you lurking about?”

He scratched his stubbled cheek, his shoulders dropping. “No reason. Just a late-night stroll?” His words lifted as if he was asking a question.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

His mouth set in a firm line. “I need to check on something—and I need to do it alone. Go to bed, Seryn.”

Irritation skittered up my back, forcing my spine straight and lifting my chin. I squinted my eyes at him. All my anger and confusion and frustration and embarrassment from the past months … all of it boiling together in a frothy vat of acid.

I stepped into his space, my voice spitting venom. “Do not tell me what to do. Where do you get the nerve after ignoring me for months, you … you arrogant wanker?!” I poked his rigid chest, my silky nightshirt rustling against his black tunic. A rush of heat fled up my chest, my breathing ragged. “Now, tell me what is going on, or I’ll have to figure it out myself.”

His brows rose, eyes blinking rapidly, and he licked his bottom lip, contemplating his next move. His nostrils flared, jaw ticking. He opened his mouth but then snapped it closed, pulling us deeper into the shadows.

I squirmed in righteous indignation but then froze as Melina slinked onto the stage from the right with a silky, dark robe wrapped around her. Lucan and Ryboas followed, their faces set in mirrored apathy.

We watched as her aura smoked around her. She splayed one hand across the back of the throne. Her front was painted in a quivering glow before she and the others walked right into the obsidian, disappearing from view.

“What the void?” I hissed.

A heavy sigh fell across my shoulder. “I overheard Melina telling Lucan to meet her here during the full moon. Something about a dungeon.” My eyes widened so much I thought they might pop out of my face. He stood tall, scanning the room and cautiously stepping toward the stage. “I need to figure out what exactly is happening—it’s my last chance until the next Dormancy. Would you listen if I asked you to go to bed politely?”

“Not a chance.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, pushing his fingers through his thick waves. “Stay close.”

Behind the throne, he placed his hand on its intricate carvings, his star rune lighting up brighter than any in the night sky. The back glowed, shimmering and flickering before a fissure split down the center as if the stone was vapor.

I gasped, staring down a chiseled obsidian passageway. Gavrel nodded once before entering, my feet trailing after him. The opening sealed behind us, and I gripped the back of his tunic, not wanting to be left behind.

His tattoo was the only light guiding us through a twisting, descending maze of tunnels and stairs. He disentangled my nails from his tunic, wrapping his warm fingers around mine. The chilled air pressed into my skin as we pushed forward, urging us to turn back. I squeezed Gavrel’s hand, my heart beating erratically.

As we approached an archway, flickering radiance swayed within its opening. Gavrel crouched, his mouth close to my cheek. Tingling heat washed over my skin. His words were solemn as he whispered, “Please be as quiet as possible and keep your aura from surfacing. I’m not trying to be an … arrogant wanker.” The corner of his mouth quirked, his dimple peeking out. “I just need you to be safe, yes?”

I bobbed my head, cheeks flushing. The thumping under my star-shaped mark was relentless. I brushed over it as I concentrated on my respirations.

At least Gavrel was with me. His steady composure offered some relief. Just knowing he was near smoothed the ruffled edges of my anxiety—the prickling dread that we’d be trapped within the dark stone surrounding us.

A cavernous well burrowed down the center of the open space beyond the arch. My knees wobbled as I stared into the bottomless void, my feet retreating until my heels pressed into the stone wall.

Gavrel looked at me, taking my hand again and leading us down the spiraling ramp carved into the walls. Hovering lantern orbs lit our way, exposing various tunnels, stairwells, and barred cells. I wondered where they all led. How many had been kept prisoner over the centuries?

I inhaled the cool, damp air, concentrating on each step. My ember tapped at my nape incessantly, trying to get my attention. I exhaled, my left thumb grazing the smooth boughs of my tourmaline ring upon my forefinger.

Deeper and deeper we went, the temperature increasingly frigid, the atmosphere buzzing with frenetic energy.

Seryn.

I leaned forward. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Gavrel whispered, peering over the edge of the narrow slope.

Was I going insane? Why did this place seem familiar?

Below.

“Obviously,” I countered.

Gavrel paused, looking at me with pursed lips, his eyebrows squashing together. “Obviously?”

“You said ‘below’ like it wasn’t obvious that it’s where we’re heading,” I scoffed.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, then I’m going insane.” My whisper went up an octave. “It was nice knowing you before I lost my marbles.”

“You heard someone?”

“Yeah, he … he said my name and ‘below.’ Why does it feel like I’ve been here before?” My power was thrumming, tossing within me, wrestling my pulse. Trepidation slinked over my skin in itchy swells.

He cupped his palm on my cheek. “Take a deep breath, Little Star. You aren’t insane. Let’s keep going and—” He stopped abruptly, grabbing me around the waist and tucking our bodies against the cold, black wall.

“Open ….” The Elders’ muffled voices wafted up the pit.

We crept ahead, keeping to the shadowed curves along the path. Once we came to a tunnel perpendicular to the Elders several feet below, we nestled within the safety of its darkened arc as we watched them.

“After all this time, this is quite tedious,” Ryboas grumbled, the key scraping as he unlocked the barred door in front of him. The gate groaned as it rolled away—its edges concealed within deep grooves carved into the stone.

Lucan snorted. “It’s a small price to pay.” His lips puckered as a woman in soiled blue robes stumbled from the cell, collapsing to the ground. Her eyes were unfocused, pained confusion sweeping over her features.

A gasp crept up my throat, my hand covering my lips to keep it in. It was Haadra’s Elder, Marah Strom.

My eyes snapped to Gavrel, and he shook his head, his mouth a steely slash across his face.

As I returned my attention below, Ryboas opened a second cell, and Endurst Guust, the Pneumalian Elder, staggered out. Bracing his hand against the cavern wall, he brushed his disheveled robes the color of rotten lemons.

“Get up!” Melina snapped.

Marah glared at her, her eyes clearing in lucidity, her chin jutting forward as she pulled herself up on unsteady legs. “The Ancients will cast you all to the Nether Void.” Her voice, although feeble, was laced with animosity. “And I look forward to that day, knowing you’ll writhe in nightmarish pain for all eternity.”

Melina tittered, clapping her palms on her upper thighs, and bent forward. “Ah, I see you are well-rested. It’s a shame our divine ember and blood oaths somewhat mend your memories—but after all these turns, your minds are scarred. It’d be much simpler if my shadows stuck like they do with everyone else. At this point, your minds are just piles of scabs I need to keep picking, aren’t they?” Her lips curled as she wiggled her eyebrows at Marah and Endurst.

“Always such a ch-child, Melina. Hasn’t this gone on long … long enough?” Endurst stuttered, his deep voice imploring.

“If you mean your sentences, then yes.”

His jaw stiffened as he focused on the male Elders, his body twitching. “You know very … well … we-we … We were never m-meant to continue this long. What about Midst Fall? Have you no … no pity left in you?”

Lucan’s upper lip curled as he looked away, sniffing. Ryboas tucked the iron keys into his pocket, the metal clanging as his feet shifted restlessly.

“Enough. I tire of you both. You forget ”—she snickered—“that you did this to yourselves. If you had played nice, you’d be free. Free from these cells. Free to keep your memories. But alas, I can’t trust you to roam without spurring bothersome rumors and unrest among the mortals.” The last word fell from her lips as if it tasted of refuse. “Selfish of you both, considering we took a vow that impacts us all—decides if we lose our gifts.” She snapped her fingers in front of Endurst. He blinked slowly, unamused.

Marah wailed, “We aren’t meant to rule or live forev?—”

My shoulders flinched as Melina’s aura flashed over her in a billowing haze, shadowed tendrils curling around the unwilling Elders’ necks and heads, their eyes clouding over, mouths snapping shut.

“That’s better. Let’s get on with it.” Her captives looked around in confusion.

My heart stomped against my ribs, energy stinging through my muscles. Gavrel rested his warm palm on my shoulder blades under the curtain of my hair.

“What are we doing here?” the Haadra Elder whimpered, rubbing her temples.

“Ah, my dear friend. Just the usual—Elder things. Follow me, and we’ll be done before you know it.”

“I do hope so. I’m … I’m quite fatigued,” Endurst mumbled, staring blankly at the stone wall.

“You can rest after we’re done.”

A subtle whirring resonated against the gleaming walls of the cavern. Propelled by an inky energy coiled around its edges, a sizable saffron-colored disk levitated up the pit. The edge swerved over to the ledge where the Elders stood. Once they boarded, it sank into the boundless shadows.

Gavrel put a finger to his lips, tipping his head to the side. I followed close behind as we rushed stealthily down the abyss, the unending corkscrew making me dizzy. Time escaped me as we descended, my breaths puffing out in chilled wisps as the temperature plummeted. My nape throbbed, almost unbearably, but luckily, my aura acquiesced to my requests for restraint.

We stopped at a safe distance when we finally saw them, our bodies concealed in the shadows. The circular glass conveyor hovered at the perimeter, above what resembled curling black lava—hazy white smog and liquid silver snaking within the molten undulations. In the center, a hulking mass of raw amber protruded, its roughly chiseled edges blurring the bulky form suspended within.

“What … what is that?” I whispered, squinting as I tried to figure out what I was looking at.

Gavrel squatted, leaning forward. “It looks like something—or someone —is entombed in that stone.”

I angled my head, brow furrowing. He was right. I could just make out the outline of a well-built figure, back arching as if they had jerked forward before freezing within the boulder.

Melina’s sooty fumes flared to life, slithering around the others, igniting their smoldering auras. She closed her eyes, guiding their power until the hues tangled together. A churning gray clot floated between them and the solitary boulder.

Melina’s eyes snapped open, her irises burning silver as she immersed their combined energy into the twisting pool. The igneous substance sparked and thrashed, rolling frantically as tendrils latched onto their ember. All at once, liquid shadows rose, spilling outward over the platform and their feet, seeping over the entirety of the massive, uncut gemstone.

A blinding flash washed upward, illuminating the cavern as if the sun had exploded. The Elders stiffened, their necks craning and eyes clenching as the irradiation enveloped them. It coursed through their veins, glowing and pulsing. Within the amber, a throbbing, golden brilliance vibrated, fractured light boring through the natural fissures of its surface and spraying over every dark, gleaming surface.

As the power gradually faded from the imprisoned being, the Elders’ bodies wilted, shuddering while their auras sunk within their forms. A healthy afterglow painted their cheeks.

Melina shivered, licking her crimson lips. “Always a pleasure,” she purred toward the boulder. It glimmered once, trembling angrily and sending ripples throughout the well.

Gavrel grabbed my hand, tucking me into the stairwell, his firm body sheltering mine in the shadows as the Elders began ascending on the embered disk.

I held my breath as they whooshed past, my cheek pressed against his chest. His pulse thumped rapidly in my ear, and my breath rushed out as I looked up at him. Even in the dark, his eyes glimmered, the rich green of them studying mine. He stepped back, the chilled air seeping into me. His warm palms grazed down my arms. “Let’s move,” he murmured.

I brushed past him without a word, my nerves frazzled and buzzing. Whatever we had just witnessed, it wasn’t good. It took much longer on the way up; each crevice, tunnel, and level blended, making it difficult to tell where we’d originally arrived. We passed the cells where the two Elders were held, my heart fluttering, but they were unconscious—two piles of brightly colored robes shoved into their separate chambers.

Gavrel shook his head, pushing his shoulders back as we continued. There wasn’t any way for us to help them in this moment.

“What do you think they were doing? And why are Marah and Endurst imprisoned?”

“I don’t know yet, but I fear it isn’t for the benefit of Midst Fall or its people.”

I grimaced, fists clenching. On that, we agreed.

As we neared the top of the corkscrew path, my scar thrummed, the nagging suspicions resurfacing. “I think I’ve been here before.” I paused, turning to Gavrel and putting a hand on his wrist. His head dropped, the muscles of his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “And there’s things you’re keeping from me still.”

“Seryn …”

“I’m tired of this. One moment, you’re my Gavrel; broody and sweet and trying not to smile. The next you’re—well, you’re always broody—but you’re disgusted by me or ignoring me or talking in riddles.”

He stepped closer, brows furrowing. “I’ll never be disgusted by you. Also, your Gavrel?” One corner of his mouth lifted, the flickering flames of the lantern orbs swishing over his face. I huffed, and he chuckled, tucking a loose auburn curl behind my ear. I leaned into his touch, and his lips pressed between his teeth. “I told you at the start, there are things I can’t share with you. There are things I must do—have done—to keep those I care about safe.”

“But what does it matter anymore? After tomorrow, I won’t remember any of this. Let me help carry your burden for at least one day. Tell me why I can’t remember being here before.” My forehead scrunched, jaw jutting forward. “Melina did something to me, didn’t she?”

He brushed his thumb over my cheek and then dropped his hand. “If there were a way to keep you safe, I would tell you everything.”

“There’s always a way.” My hand thrust into my pocket in frustration, my knuckle bumping into leather.

Drink .

I flinched at the distant, weak voice flitting through my skull.

With a quick intake of breath, I eagerly pulled out the pouch, plucked out a vial, and shoved it in his hand. “Take this.”

“What is this?” He held it up, eyeing the silvery powder, wrinkling his regal nose.

He watched me in bewilderment as I stuffed the pouch back into my pocket and withdrew my dagger, pricking my finger with the tip.

His eyes widened. “What are you?—”

“It’s the way.” I grabbed the container from him, tugging its stopper out with my teeth and letting it drop to the stone floor. Blood beaded on my fingertip, and I held it over the glass, letting a few drops fall. It melted into the powder instantly, its ruby hue turning silver as the tonic frothed and sizzled.

I bit my bottom lip, and Gavrel’s mouth fell open as the concoction’s color morphed—it was as black as this bottomless pit but with shimmering, star-like specks swirling within.

“We didn’t fail during the Weeding.” His mouth snapped closed, and he shifted closer. I took a step back. “If you can’t or won’t help me figure out what’s going on. Maybe the Mirage Orchid will.”

He called out my name as I gulped the potion, its effervescence prickling my throat.

A rush of stinging heat swept from my belly and radiated through my limbs. My skin tingled as if I was freezing and burning up simultaneously.

Then nothing. My fingers flexed, and I looked at Gavrel. The look of concern and irritation he gave me was palpable. “That was ridiculous. I hope you’re pleased with that little show.”

I chuckled. “To be honest, I thought it would be worth it.” My shoulders dropped. “But I don’t think it’s work?—”

A searing burn ravaged every corner of my skull, and I screamed, clutching my head.

Then the world blinked as if I had never existed at all.