“What is it?” she whispered.
The cat meowed again, more insistent this time, then darted down the adjoining corridor. Alora followed, rushing after him. She found Deimos hovering in a mist of shadows, napping. He was sent to guard the door she had sealed for Caelum’s safety.Nexus stopped before it with a soft meow and slipped through it like a ghost. Alora softly gasped.
So that was how he moved around.
Deimos blinked at her sleepily as she pressed on the sequence of glyphs carved into the stone door. They lit and drew open for her.
The sight of Caelum stole her breath. He was pale, thinner than before, but awake andalive. Sitting upright in the grand bed where she had last seen him unmoving.
“By the Seven,” she gasped, rushing to him, tears burning her eyes. “Caelum, why did you come here? You could have been killed!”
He gave a faint, crooked smile. “It was worth it, if it meant finding you.”
Her throat tightened. “You foolish knight.” Alora brushed a hand through his brown hair, half laughing, half crying. “I am so happy to see you, but you should have stayed in hiding. How did you even enter Karag Dûr?” She shook her head. “Never mind that. What news of Argyle? Of Theia? I thought you might bring her with you.”
Caelum’s smile faded. His gaze dropped to the sheets, fingers tightening in the fabric.
“Caelum?” she whispered. “What is it? What happened?”
He hesitated, then lifted his eyes to hers.
“Theia… sold her soul to the dark.”
CHAPTER 33
Rune
The candlelight bent around the spider lily as it turned between Rune’s fingers, petals glimmering faintly. He studied it carefully. The other flowers had burned easily enough, but this one he kept.
A bloom born where a drop of her blood had spilled in the combat arena.
Her pain had called to him. And now the proof of it pulsated in his hand like a heartbeat.
Rune sat at his table, surrounded by the plumes of darkness gathering at the edges of the room. The golden filaments and scarlet petals shimmered faintly. Even his darkness would not touch it.
A reminder that something between them was shifting. That he was losing control and time was slipping by. The Blood Moon would arrive in three months, yet he was nowhere close to breaking the curse.
Rune set down the flower on the table beside the crimson spindle. Both were connected to her somehow. He was certain when the dining hall sprouted with blooms like a sea of glittering blood.
Alora had summoned dark magic…while wielding the light.
What are you becoming, songbird?
The mountain quaked.
It vibrated through the floor beneath him, rattling his wine goblet. Through the bond came a surge of Alora’s anguish tangled with fury, crashing into him like waves breaking against bone. His shadows recoiled in agitation, rising to the ceiling in rippling waves.
Rune barely had time to stash the lily and spindle within a small chest on the table before the doors of his antechamber exploded, shards of stone scattering across the floor. Alora stormed in like a vengeful dawn, eyes bright with unshed tears. The faint glow of light clung to her like armor.
“You made a bargain with Theia?” Alora screamed, voice breaking through the smoke of his chamber.
For a heartbeat, the world stilled. Even the shadows held their breath.
Rune pushed down the flicker of unease stirring low in his gut and rested his chin on his fist. “Have you forgotten who I am, songbird? I am the Hollow in the Mountain, and I answer all who call to me.”
The words came easily. They always had. A mantle he wore without effort.
But his voice drew taut.
