Silence stretched, broken only by the flap of leather and the wind howling through the surrounding air.
“We’ll need to be swift,”Cinderax said, sweeping a tight circle around them.
“I can start portal jumping us back to Asharyn the moment we claim the Heart,” Fenn added.
Jassyn only nodded as he led the others toward the storm’s peak, unease stitching through his ribs. He climbed higher, keeping his gaze fixed on the sails until they vanished into the sea below.
His muscles burned as the world closed in, a dense layer of cloud swallowing them whole. The steady rise leeched any remaining warmth, mist slicking his lashes, weight dragging at his wings. Jassyn flared fire through the membranes to keep the leather from freezing as each breath thinned to a rasp, every stroke another fight against the altitude’s crushing grip.
Then, with a wrenching lurch, they burst through the cloud bank.
Wind vanished, leaving them suspended above a vast and terrible stillness. Silence rang in Jassyn’s skull as they hovered above the eye, an abyssal gullet funneling into the ocean. Bruised with lightning, the rim of the Maelstrom churned beneath them, its spiraling rings folding and collapsing in endless waves of storm.
“Why didn’t the druids just return the Heart to a chained dragon?” Serenna asked suddenly, her voice startlingly clear in the unnatural quiet. “Why go through the trouble of hiding it down there instead?”
“The only remaining scalebound were shadow walkers.”A plume of steam unfurled from Cinderax’s snout.“Without starlight, they had no way to break the magical prisons forged by the relics. So they buried what they could not wield, having no other choice.”
Jassyn dragged air through his nose as beastblood prowled beneath his skin. Altitude only sharpened the itch, some stubborn part of him that kept reaching for Lykor—wanting certainty he didn’t have.
The thought hardened into resolve. The sooner they retrieved the Heart, the sooner they could turn back.
“Maybe we can save the history lesson untilafterwe return to Asharyn,” Jassyn said, irritation escaping before he could corral it.
Serenna blinked.
“I only mean…” He forced a steadier exhale. “We should keep moving. With those ships nearby, I’d rather not be circling here if they decide to close the distance.”
Serenna held his gaze, quiet and assessing, before inclining her head in agreement.
“Ready for the dive?” Fenn called, flexing his knuckles as if dropping into the Maelstrom offered no more challenge than sparring.
Cinderax released a sharp trill—a miniature roar—before folding his wings and plunging into the eye.
Jassyn tucked his wings and followed. For a breathless instant, the descent felt weightless, a stolen heartbeat of falling.
Then the Maelstrom seized him in its jaws.
Crosscurrents slammed from every direction at once, wrenching his left wing back open. Pain flared through the joint as the wind threatened to spin him into the spiral, forcing him to snap both wings wide to keep balance.
Below, the storm bared its malice—air twisting with ravenous intent, clawing for any weakness. Wind and mist knifed across his face in rapid pulses, blurring his vision as lightning sheared sideways with heat and static.
Angling deeper into the eye, each wingbeat met crushing resistance, pressure bucking beneath him, every stroke a battle to keep from being flung into the funnel.Jassyn reached for the wind, seizing the currents to carve a narrow pocket of steadier air as they flew downward.
Serenna dove beside him, slicing through the chaos, draconic eyes reflecting lightning. Fingers splayed, she snatched sparks before they struck, hurling them back into the spinning storm wall.
Fenn stretched out his claws, fire bursting in controlled waves to steer the static aside. They worked in tandem to keep the path open, descending in a fragile formation. A single falter meant tearing loose, shredded by the storm and erased in a heartbeat.
And Cinderax…
Wings beating furiously, the dragon darted below them, straining against currents built to devour titans. A sudden shear slammed into him and he tumbled twice, yanked toward the roiling wall.
At the last instant he caught himself, claws scrabbling at empty air, a ragged plume of fire ripping from his maw in a defiant snarl.
“Cinderax won’t last like that!” Jassyn shouted, angling toward Fenn as they flew deeper. His focus clamped hard on the churning corridor, every nerve screaming with the effort ofrestraining the funnel. “Serenna and I have our hands full—grab him before the wind does!”
“But he bites!” Fenn protested, wings snapping to correct his drift.
“Then bite him back!”
