“Ready?” Seniia grins at me.
I force a small smile back at her. “Ready.”
Her fingers, cool and firm, close around mine—a light tingle the only sensation as we step through the archway. Next thing I know, we’re standing on top of the floating island, outside a similar portal, solid ground beneath my feet. Before I’ve had time to blink, Vilder materializes beside us. A little unnerved by whatever force has moved us two thousand feet into the air, I steady myself on Seniia. With a thudding heart, I manage a shaky grin. I’ve made it this far.
The three of us turn to take in the enormous white arch in front of us just as an unsettling pull rips through my chest, stronger than anything I’ve encountered before. Even if I didn’t know of Llyr’s soulbinding, this pull would have been impossible to ignore.
“Where’s Gray?” I say, noticing the large wolf is no longer at Vilder’s side.
“Oh, she needed to stretch her legs,” he says, but his attention is solely on the Arc. Seniia shoots him a sidelong glance, but she, too, seems to be utterly enchanted by the enormous white structure in front of us.
She walks to stand next to Vilder. “Can you feel it?” she says in a hushed, almost reverent tone.
He nods, a look of awe on his face—such a contrast to his usual stoic features.
My stomach plummets as several guards approach, and not ordinary guards. These wield magic. One, likely their leader, carries a staff etched with strange glyphs; another possesses some sort of shimmering orb pulsing with faint light.
My encounter with the guards in Bronich springs forward in vivid imagery: sharing a cramped prison wagon with the dead man, the stench of decay almost unbearable to breathe; Emma’s betrayal and the soft, almost muffled thud as her lifeless body hit the ground, crimsonblood spilling from the gaping wound in her neck; the umbra; the confinement.
For the fraction of a heartbeat it takes me to realize I don’t have any choice but to proceed—the tug in my chest tells me I may as well be on a leash at this point—I debate fleeing back through the archway.
“Laïna?” It’s Seniia.
My gaze falls to my hand, its grip on her arm tense and white-knuckled. Although my heart is still pounding in my chest, I release my grip. “Sorry,” I say, then gesture toward the guards behind her. How she hasn’t noticed, I don’t know. Even I notice their magic, a tingling sensation that intensifies as they approach.
Stepping in front of me protectively, she shields me from the guards as Vilder moves to stand beside me.
“We are here as seekers,” Seniia says once they reach us.
“Show me your marks.”
Seniia and Vilder pull up their sleeves to reveal some of the glyphs, and the one with the pulsating orb slides it across their skin. Stepping back, he gives his leader a curt nod. Whatever that thing did, they must have passed the test. “One cannot be too cautious these days,” the guard with the orb explains. “The shadowborn—”
He’s cut off as his superior tilts his chin toward me. “And the human? What is she doing here?”
“All are welcome to visit the Arc,” Vilder says. There’s a slight retraction of his upper lip, revealing his fangs.
“Can,” the guard says. “Anyonecanvisit the Arc.” He snarls at me, baring his teeth. “That does not mean they are welcome.”
I should be used to this by now, but his words still sting. As a property, I never fit in with the humans, and as a human, I’ll never fit in with the Reans. Still, the last days with Seniia and Vilder have shown me itispossible to overcome one’s differences and be friends. Heck, even Ero, though strange and fond of making fun of my ignorance, had an underlying respect in the way he interacted with me.But not these guards. It’s as if I’m back in Bronich being a property all over again.
Seniia holds up her left hand, the one with her golden ring and the beautiful blue crystal at its center, and the guards straighten.
“Her name is Laïna, and she is my friend.” Seniia’s voice is laced with authority.
My gaze jumps between Seniia and the guard, who looks as if he wishes to be anywhere but here.
“He should have recognized her from the staff,” Vilder mutters next to me.
I turn toward him, raising my eyebrows in a silent question.
“The staff. It marks her as a priestess. But with that damn snake, she should be easy enough to recognize as a maiden-born and the daughter of the high priestess of Briah,” Vilder whispers under his breath. “The ealdormen and high priestesses hold the highest-ranking positions in a realm and answer to no one but the ashina. As the daughter of one...” He trails off, but I get the picture.
“Doesn’t seem to hinder you though,” I remark, and he chuckles.
“Nah, she prefers it that way. At least I do.”
“My mistake, Priestess.” The guard bows low. “Of course your human friend is welcome to visit. Follow the path to the end and then take a right to get to the main entrance.” He takes a step back, offering another deep bow.
