“I’m not asking you to,” I reply. “But don’t lie to yourself. It isn’t humans who put you in that cage. It’s naga. Your own kind is selling you out.”
Another flicker in his expression of pain, masked instantly beneath iron.
I take a deep breath, refocusing on our immediate problem. "We need to stop arguing among ourselves and find a way out of here. Leave me behind if you hate me so much but get Zara to safety before they return."
"Why do you care so much about the youngling?" Lurok asks, his voice sharp with incredulous disbelief.
“Because she’s innocent,” I bite out, gripping the bars until my knuckles ache. “Zara is like a little sister to me. She’s gentle and terrified and far too young to be caught in a war for other’s ambition. She deserves protection, not punishment.” My breath shakes, but my voice doesn’t. “I’m being betrayed by Thorne too, used like a bargaining chip in some scheme I still don’t understand. And if my father is tangled in this?” My chest tightens. “Then that makes it worse. That makes it personal.” I lift my chin and meet Lurok’s glare head on. “Not all humans are your enemy, Lurok, as not all naga are mine. So stop focusing on your hatred and start helping us figure a way out of here.”
Lurok's tail shifts against the floor of his cage. "I agree," he says, his ready cooperation surprising me. "But we face a problem. These bars are basilyx lead. They will not bend without the intense heat of a forge to soften the metal."
“The heat of a forge,” Zara’s gaze burns as bright as her smile. “Ny’Leira can help with that.”
“How can I be of help?”
“The serpent stone ties you to his flame the same as his blood,” Zara responds. “You can siphon Ry’Varok’s elemental power, not all of it, but a little. It might be enough to melt the locks on our cages.”
"Tell me what to do," I say, turning my full attention to Zara.
She straightens, her expression suddenly serious, reminiscent of Eira during their lessons in the temple. "Close your eyes," she instructs. "Breathe deeply. Find the quiet place inside you where the bond lives."
I obey, shutting out the sight of our prison, the metal bars, the worried faces of my fellow captives. The darkness behind my eyelids is complete, broken only by faint reddish patterns from the flicker of the distant heartglass.
“The bond with Ry'Varok is like a thread," Zara continues, her voice soft but clear. "You might not feel it now, but it is still there. Follow it backward, to the places where it burned brightest."
I let my mind drift, seeking the connection that has grown between Varok and me over the weeks. Emberyn remains cool against my skin, but I focus beyond that physical sensation, reaching for something deeper.
Memories surface unbidden. The fire that seemed to dance just beneath Varok’s scales when he claimed me as his. My skin flushing with heat when we exchanged words of love. The moments when our passion ignited something that felt more than physical, when pleasure built beyond the boundaries of our separate bodies.
The flare of anger I felt in the war chamber when I discovered the OathCoil's purpose. The heat that had risen within me then hadn't just been emotion. There had been something else,something that made the air around me shimmer briefly before I stormed away.
"That is it," Zara whispers, though how she knows I'm on the right track, I can't fathom. "The fire is not just his. It is in you too, because of the serpent stone. Because of the blood bond.”
There. A flutter of warmth, so faint I almost miss it. Not from the Emberyn, but from somewhere deeper, somewhere inside me.
"I feel something," I whisper, afraid that speaking too loudly might break this tenuous connection.
"Pull it toward the surface," Zara instructs. "Imagine it flowing through you, from your heart to your hand."
I focus on that tiny spark of warmth, imagining it growing, strengthening. In my mind's eye, it's a small ember, glowing faintly in the darkness. I coax it gently, feeding it with memories of Varok, with the strength of what I feel for him.
The ember grows brighter, warmer.
A tingling sensation starts in my chest, spreading outward along my arm. Emberyn still feels cool against my skin, but something inside me is definitely warming. The tingling intensifies, flowing like liquid heat down to my fingertips.
"Something's happening," I say, my voice tight with concentration.
"Open your eyes," Zara commands. "But keep holding onto that feeling."
I open my eyes, keeping my focus on the warmth flowing through me. At first, nothing seems different. Then I notice a faint shimmer in the air around my hand, like heat rising from sunbaked stone. My palm feels hot, but not painfully so. It’s a pleasant warmth that pulses in rhythm with my heartbeat.
"Look," Nirik breathes, his dark blue eyes wide with wonder.
Tiny flickers of amber light dance across my fingertips, more like the memory of flame than actual fire. I stare, transfixed, asthe flickers strengthen, coalescing into small tongues of golden flame that lick upward from my palm without burning my flesh.
"I did it," I whisper, hardly believing what I'm seeing. "Zara, I did it!"
The little seer beams at me through the bars, her smile radiant with pride and hope. "I knew you could! Now try to make it stronger."
