The view of the Talon’s Reach mountain range is stunning from this height, but I have to force my hands to loosen from tight fists to tense fists as the peaks draw closer. I must say I’m not the biggest fan of the fact that we’re more or less riding on an overgrown hoverboard above the manicured keep tiers, one that tips and pitches with every squirm and wriggle. It’s not exactly reassuring that, aside from the platform we’re standing on, there’s only a thin translucent casing that protects us from the unpredictable winds of Talon’s Reach or the sharp cliffs and rocks we’re speeding towards.
My stomach churns with apprehension, and beads of cold sweat dot the back of my neck. I keep telling myself that if we go down, all of these gargantuan drakes will break my fall, but the truth is they would shift and survive just fine. My broken ass would be the only one riding this thing into the rocks.
One of the waterfalls that trails down the back of King’s Keep comes into view, and the roar of rushing water drowns out the grunts and grumbles of the squished drakes caging me in. The air gondola drops and the fall’s mist reaches up to greet us, kissing the clear barrier and leaving tiny droplets of water as we skirt closer to the torrent.
“I used to play here a lot when I was young. I’d come here with your brother Novak, and we’d spend hours exploring and running around,” Lorn tells me unexpectedly. “It was one of his favorite places.”
I follow the scion’s fixed stare to the dark, slippery-looking rocks that flank the base of the waterfall. Echoes of children’s laughter suddenly ring in my ears, and a phantom image plays across my vision of my brothers heckling one another as they leap from one slick stone to another, daring me and Enslee to keep up. All too quickly the memory fades into vapor and disappears among the swirling mist.
“I know,” I answer after a beat, swallowing past the ache now rippling through my chest. “It was the first place Novak wanted to show us when we got here.”
“Us?” Lorn asks, tearing his bright blue eyes from the falls and turning them on me.
“Me and my mother,” I supply promptly.
Lorn nods, but his gaze is thoughtful as it roams over my face before drifting back to the powerful rushing water and the treacherous stones below.
I refuse to let my heart beat any faster than it already is, and deny access to the flush that wants to crawl up my throat and redden my cheeks. Hastily, I banish the flicker of fear trying to roost in my relief, because, yes, I just fucked up—and it could have been very bad—but I recovered. It’s okay. No one knows…or they won’t if I can keep my tells in check.
My eyes want to stray to Selik, Lorn’s Thrasher, who thankfully is standing on the far end of the air gondola, but I force my gaze to the falling water. Worry tries to spur me into testing the air for any taint of dishonesty, but I don’t dare move or do anything else that might tip my hand or push my luck. As far as I can tell from my strained periphery, Selik isn’t giving Lorn any signals demarcating my lie. Neither is the scion looking over at his Wing member as though he’s trying to confirm any suspicions. They both look exactly like they did before my mouth got away from my brain.
The floating platform we’re on winds toward the side of the breathtaking waterfall. For a second, it almost looks as though it’s aiming for the water, but then I see that there’s a stony alcove just behind the deluge thundering down from high above. The gondola floats smoothly into the dark space, only it’s not an alcove at all, but an entrance to some secret location hidden behind the cascading rush of water.
Shadows swallow us whole, and for a moment, I can’t see my own hand in front of my face. All I can hear is the muted rumble of thousands of gallons of water pummeling the mountain all around us, and then the sound starts to fade as we drift deeper into the darkness.
A faint rosy glow blooms in the distance like some ancient lighthouse of old. The light grows brighter and bigger, dancing across the glittering black stone walls encasing our path and revealing a calm stream of water slipping through the crags far below.
All at once, our gondola abandons the dark, and bright florid light illuminates everything around us. A stunning cavern comes into view, and my eyes don’t seem to know where to flit first.
I’ve long lived in a world of magic, but I can count on one hand the amount of times it’s feltmagical. This just might make the list.
The walls of the large space sparkle as though made of black diamonds. There’s a crystal chandelier dripping from the expansive ceiling, crafted to mimic the appearance of eddying water. A single golden tree glimmers in the center of the sprawling grotto, with two half-moon-shaped sofas framing each side of the large braided trunk. This place feels ancient and reeks of power, and I have no idea what it could be.
“Where are we?” I ask, but my attention catches on a tall, lean male with a bald head and an ocher complexion. He stands behind what appears to be a reception desk, in an expertly tailored mauve suit that’s a touch darker than the rosy light filling this cavern.
“This is the royal treasury,” Lorn announces, pride coursing through his tone.
Utterly dumbfounded by that answer, I spin to look at him. “Treasury? Why would we visit a treasury?”
My mouth suddenly feels as arid as the deadlands, and my thoughts flit to the conversation we just had about gifts and my Naming Day. The fact that I’m standing here and not in the middle of an armory probably means I’m not going to be getting what I asked for. But if he expects me to get giddy over a necklace or something equally as useless, things are about to get really fucking awkward.
“When your father was killed and there was no surviving kindred or kith, his Crush was automatically left to the next king. My father has never touched it, other than to add pieces of King Tenebrae’s trove when it was cleared from his towers in the keep. The king has ordered that it all be given back to you. Consider it his gift to you for your Naming Day. I brought you here so you can claim it and take your first official steps into the arms of The Horde.” Lorn’s voice grows soft and regretful. “Where you were always meant to be.”
I stare blankly at the heir, unsure how to process everything he just said. Disbelief and astonishment start to circle one another in my chest. My heart is entirely too heavy, but my head feels alarmingly light.
I’ve spent an innumerable number of hours wondering what it would be like to reclaim everything that was taken from me, from my sister, from the other Syphons. Some days it was the only thing that dug me out of the trenches of agonizing loss. That possibility of one day righting the wrongs has fueled me for a very long time. But in all those hours and days spent pondering and plotting, I never once thought that King Noctis and his heirs would simply hand it over for no other reason than it’s the honorable thing to do.
Dragons don’t part well from their treasure, and yet here they are, doing just that.
But why?
“Don’t give me that look, Princess,” Lorn censures lightly.
“What look?”
Lorn shakes his head, but the smile he offers is rakish. “Like you’re waiting for a trap to spring.”
I stare at him blankly. “Well, that’s going to be hard because that’sexactlywhat I’m waiting for.”
