SÉVERIN
Séverin touched the obsidian wall, dragging his hands over the jutting hanks of glossy rock.
Where had the light gone?
The radiance had been a sudden thing. Almost violent. Against his skin, Séverin had felt the lyre’s pulse turn frantic, the strings burning hot. A moment later, all of it had crumpled to darkness. Even the lyre’s heartbeat slowed.
When he blinked, he saw the ghostly imprint of light. It was like Laila’s kiss all over again. One moment, she was in his arms, burning hot like a star, and then, just as quickly, out of his embrace. The jolt from one state to another was what forced him to turn to the rock wall.
He was powerless. He was losing her—not her love, not her attraction to him—buther. If Laila needed to kiss him until his heart broke to feel alive, he would offer it up on the spot; if she needed his hope for kindling to feel warmth, he would watch himself go up in flames.
But he couldn’t fix her.
He couldn’t open the damned wall.
And then—
Light.
There and gone, leaving him not with despair, but with anger. Heaven would not dare to shut him out, not now. Séverin would have what he’d fought so hard for… one way or another, he would sink his teeth into that amber light and grab power by its soft, furred throat until he owned it.
“I don’t get it,” said Enrique. “The writing on the wall was clear:to dóro ton theón,‘the gift of the gods.’ This was the spot where the translucence appeared, wasn’t it?”
Séverin nodded.
“Did your lantern touch this spot?” asked Zofia, tapping the rock with her match.
“No,” said Séverin.
“But that would mean it isn’t fire, even though everything points to that element and Zofia has already said that it’s fireproof!” said Enrique. “We already tried earth. Was it something about the waves? Not that I think we should go anywherenearthat lake—”
Séverin ignored him. Before anyone could stop him, he took a couple of steps toward the lake, scooped water into his palm, and flung it onto the wall.
The water slid down the rock.
“You just!” Enrique spluttered. “Why!”
Séverin dried his hands on his jacket. “Now we know it’s not the water.”
“Not light, not water,” grumbled Enrique. “What else would have been a gift from the gods? Free will?”
Hypnos cleared his throat. “Iwillyou to open up!”
The rock wall remained indifferent.
Séverin canted his head to one side, thinking of past acquisitions.Don’t follow the clues, follow the room.The story of the room was a treasure of its own. Séverin imagined that he was the maker of this place, the master of a shining cavern full of terrors torn out of myths.
“I could try the explosives,” said Zofia thoughtfully.
Enrique crossed his arms. “I realize fire is your element, but—”
At Enrique’s words, something nudged at Séverin’s thoughts.
“What did you just say?”
Enrique lifted an eyebrow. “I was telling Zofia that explosives are hardly the answer.”
“What did you tell herexactly?”
