I turned back to Thalia, forcing my voice to remain steady. “We’ll be fine,” I assured her, even as doubt coiled tight around my heart. “What choice do we have?”
She shook her head and mumbled, “I wish I could go with you instead.”
I smiled sadly at her. Then I offered her that sign of affection we’d created, just for the two of us, months ago—my hand over my heart, tapping twice.
Her mouth remained fixed in a tight line, but she returned the gesture, adding the usual affectionate eye roll and slight smile that was typical from her.
“We’ll be back,” I promised.
“In one piece,” she commanded. “Mind and all.”
“In one piece,” I agreed as Zayn and Aleks rejoined us.
All trace of amusement was gone from Zayn’s face. Aleks was still impossible to read, but there was no hesitation in his movements anymore.
He apologized for his moment of doubt, and then his hand found mine, squeezing once. “Are you ready?”
No. I wasn’t ready. But when had I ever been ready for any of this?
“Let’s go,” I said.
We descended into the dark together, like we had so many times before.
The stairs seemed endless, spiraling down into the earth, lit only by occasional flickers of pale light, the source of which I could never seem to pinpoint. We passed several cave-like rooms that held the stone slabs I’d seen both in my vision and in Eamon’s book. Graveyard after graveyard full of them, all arranged in neat little rows. It was tempting to get closer, to try and get a better look at the things carved on them. But I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to start again if I stopped, so our relentless descent continued.
The whispers grew louder with each downward step, some transforming into distinct voices—some pleading, some angry, some broken by grief.
I lied to them.
I should have saved them.
It was my fault.
I couldn’t stop it.
I loved them more than the world?—
The confessions of every Vaelora who had ever carved their truth into this place. I should have tried to block them out. It would have been safer. But I couldn’t help listening. Couldn’t help wondering about the ones that had walked before me, and how I measured up to them and their sins.
Finally, the stairs ended.
We stepped into a vast circular chamber that took my breath away. The walls here were covered—completely covered—in carvings. Scenes and symbols and words in several different languages, cut by dozens of different hands over countlesscenturies. Some carvings were shallow and hasty, others deep and ornate. All of them pulsed with a faint, ghostly light.
“We’re here,” Aleks said in a hushed tone. “Now, where do we start looking for the piece of Lorien that’s supposedly here as well?”
I withdrew Grimnor and studied it for a moment, hoping the entity sleeping within its blade might make himself useful again, as he had in the Hollow Grove.
But the sword remained cold and lifeless in my grip—and it felt strangely heavy, too.
Aleks read the disappointment on my face. “Nothing?”
“Not this time. It seems like whatever energy saturates this place is completely crushing any magic Grimnor holds. Which includes Lorien’s power too, I guess.”
“Just our luck.”
“It feels like the air in here is suffocating our own magic too, doesn’t it?”
Aleks summoned a small flicker of light to his palm, with obvious effort.
