I tested the strength of a fractured column, pushing against the obstacle. Stuck. Blast it.
Would one of the swords help me hack my way in? I glanced at the closest corpse and the sword that was wrapped up in the skeletal remains of the soldier’s hand. My stomach twisted. I really didn’t want to do this.
“Merawr!”The feline cry had me jerking my hand back, a scream rising within me.
“Dang it, Sebastian!” I spun to glare at him, only to find his sleek black head poking out from a large crack in the wall. Scorch marks singed the edges. The damage must have occurred during the attack. Once more, the cat disappeared into the forbidden room.
It was a good-sized opening. Big enough for a person to slip through as well. Before the thought had barely taken shape in my mind, I hit my knees, crawling through the gap.
Once on the other side, I stood and dusted my hands, then quickly scanned the space.
“Whoa,” I said on an exhale, voice small in the vastness. “Pyrrhus’s throne room.”
It was both the most splendid and depressing thing I’d everseen.
The massive chamber yawned open before me—grand, awe-inspiring, and ruined. Thick columns supported the walls, several of them cracked and veined with ivy. Cobwebs shrouded the heights where banners must once have flown. The ceiling soared well above me, so high that peering up at it made my head spin.
My boots scraped across what was probably once a splendid red carpet—its crimson threads faded with dirt and debris. The path ran the length of the floor to a raised dais, large enough to accommodate a shifted Draconis king. Overhead, the domed ceiling glittered with shards of solar crystal, once a radiant kaleidoscope, now fractured and dim. Their weakened glow struggled to mimic daylight, as if even the sun had abandoned this place.
All of this…and yet something was missing.
My gaze hunted the shadows. “Where is the throne?” Everything here screamed royalty, yet the seat of power was gone.
“Come, daughter,” that mystical voice whispered, the dim light floating into the alcove.
I climbed the steps slowly, dread pulling heavier with each rise. Every part of my being shouted at me to turn around and run, yet something wouldn’t let me. As my eyes rose above the platform, the rest of the landing came into view.
“No.” The word emerged as a choked whisper. “It can’t be.”
Rotted roots slithered across the marble, leading to the decaying remains of a once-mighty tree. Similar to the corpses in the hall, fractured branches littered the floor like broken bones. The air was thick with the musk of decay, the silence so absolute it pressed against my skull.
At the center, the only surviving remnant stood, a hollowed-out shell of what was once a glorious trunk.
Brittle twigs shattered under my feet, and I strode deeper into the alcove. Moved into the eviscerated cavity of the empty stump. Pressed my palm against the charred walls.
“Pyrrhus’s sacred arbor.” Tears welled in my eyes. Unlike thebodies I’d grown immune to, this death I felt as though it were fresh, raw, and bleeding. The loss tore through me, cutting me open, ripping out my heart.
Instead of what should have been an awe-inspiring fountain of magic, what rested before me was the collapse of life. All that was missing was a headstone and grave.
A magical presence tugged at my center, the symbol on my neck heating. I glanced up to find that mysterious glowing orb hovering close. “This is it, isn’t it? The reason you sent me here.”
“Yes,” the voice answered.Hathor—answered. Something deep inside insisted that it was her. At long last, she’d heard me and responded. Only to bring me here.
“But why? What is it you want me to do?”
The orb drew further away, flying up into the domed ceiling. “No, stop. Come back. Don’t leave me again. I don’t know what to do!”
Ignoring my desperate pleas, the light faded, growing dimmer. Panic clawed up my throat. “Wait!” I cried out.
“Sera,” a voice called, this one deep and masculine.
I whirled, breath catching. Thorne strode down the aisle like a phantom rising from the ruins. The sight of him cracked something inside of me.
“What are you doing?” His question landed with authority, but his eyes flickered with hidden emotions. Pained. Tormented. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He jogged up the steps, and I spun to confront him, fists clenched, voice tight with tears. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The reprisal on his face faltered, shadows pooling. He looked older at that moment, haunted by ghosts only he could see. “There’s much you don’t know.”
