I focus harder, pulling on that thread of connection, on the memory when I confessed my love for Varok as well as my own anger. The flames grow higher, brighter, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls of our prison. The heat is more intense now but still doesn't harm me. It feels like part of me, an extension of my will rather than a separate force.
"The lock!" Zara exclaims, pointing to the mechanism securing my cell door. "Try to melt it!"
I turn toward the heavy lead lock, doubt flickering briefly. "I don't know if I can make it hot enough..."
"You can," Lurok says unexpectedly, his voice a low rumble of certainty. "If you truly channel Varok’s element, that lock will yield."
I step toward the door, bringing my flaming hand to the lock. The metal is cold and unyielding against my fingers, but I press my palm flat against it, willing the fire to intensify, to focus where I need it most.
For a moment, nothing happens beyond the flickering of flames against dark metal. Then a wisp of smoke curls upward. The lock grows warm then hot against my flaming hand. The heat builds rapidly, metal beginning to glow a dull red where my palm presses against it.
"Keep going," Nirik encourages, leaning forward in his cell, his eyes fixed on the increasingly bright glow of the lock.
I grit my teeth, focusing every ounce of concentration on the fire, on making it hotter, on directing it precisely where needed.The lock transitions from red to orange to a blinding white gold. Sweat beads on my forehead from the effort of maintaining such intense heat, but I don't relent.
With a sudden, liquid shift, the metal begins to deform beneath my hand. Molten droplets splatter to the stone floor, hissing on contact. The interior mechanism softens, components fusing and flowing into one another.
The lock gives way with a soft, almost anticlimactic click. The door swings outward an inch or two, no longer secured.
I step back, staring at my hand in wonder as the flames gradually diminish then flicker out entirely. My skin is unmarked, unburned, showing no evidence of the elemental power that just poured through it.
"You did it!" Zara's voice is barely contained excitement. "You are free!"
I push the cell door open wider, stepping out into the corridor with a heady rush of triumph and disbelief. The heartstone torch seems brighter somehow, or perhaps it's just the sudden expansion of possibility now that I'm no longer caged.
"Now free us," Lurok says, his expression intense. "Before the guards return."
I nod, already moving toward Zara's cell, my hand beginning to tingle again as I call upon the newly discovered fire within me. One by one, I free them...
All except for one.
Chapter Twenty-Four
LEIRA
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t leave you here?” I cross my arms and glare at the serpent with eyes colder than any glacier.
"I know these tunnels," Lurok says with quiet confidence. "Free me and I can guide us back."
I look to Nirik, who seems to be weighing Lurok's words carefully.
"Can we trust him?" I ask softly.
Nirik studies the larger naga for a long moment. "In this, yes," he finally says. "His hatred of Thorne seems genuine enough. And if what you say is true, that Miria has called for his death, he has as much reason to escape as we do."
I close my eyes, summoning the heat that is becoming easier to tap into the more I use it. It responds eagerly, flowing up through my chest, down my arm, and pooling in my palm. When I open my eyes, flames dance there, casting flickering shadows across Lurok's face. His cold gaze widens with surprise or respect, I can't tell. I press my burning hand against the lock, feeling it soften beneath my touch. The lead glows red, then orange, then white hot, melting like wax until it falls away. Lurok’s cell door swings open with a protesting creak.
Lurok murmurs, "Impressive for a human," his coils unfolding as he glides from his prison. Even fighting the lingering effects of the drugs, he moves with predatory grace. The uneven strands of his silvery-white hair shift with his slightest movement, floating and dancing as though caught in a perpetual breeze only he can feel. "Now we must move quickly.”
Nirik nods, one hand pressed against the wound on his head. "Which way?" he asks, glancing between the two tunnels that stretches in both directions beyond the reach of the heartstone torch.
"This way," Lurok doesn’t hesitate, leading through the tunnel opposite of where Zaethir and Miria traveled.
I reach for Zara's hand, drawing her close to my side. Her small fingers curl around mine with complete trust, and I feel a renewed surge of protective determination. Whatever happens, I won't let them take her again.
"Stay with me," I tell her softly.
She nods solemnly, violet eyes wide in her small face. "I will not leave you, Ny'Leira."
