“Those records won’t help us,” Julian said briskly. “We should look elsewhere.”
“No, I think thisisuseful.” Francine’s brow furrowed. “Ecstatic delight … surges of…”
“Please.”
“If your great-grandmother or whoever wrote this didn’t want it to be read, she shouldn’t have underlined so many words. Or used as many exclamation points,” Francine retorted calmly. “Oh, look, she’s underlined this twice…”
“I beg you not to tell me what she underlined twice.”
“Okay, thatmustbe metaphorical.” Francine flicked through the next few pages, then started reading aloud. Julian braced himself. “‘…and with our last effort having come to bounteous fruition, the sacred bond was complete and all the magic of our combined love flowed through me, much as my beloved’s seed’—I’ll skip that bit—‘it was as those who have come before me have written, and I knew myself to be a part of this great and noble duty, here in the frozen South.’ What does that mean?”
Julian sighed. “The mate bond gives the fated mates of shadow dragons some aspect of our power. That must be what she’s referring to.”
Francine read on. “‘…fell into a sleep of utter exhaustion, as though more than all our other efforts, this last—’”
“Thank you.” Julian snatched the record from her fingers. The words ‘How glad I was to discover that further congress did not result in such abject convalescence!’seared across his brain before he could shut the book on them. “Perhaps this is not the best use of our time.”
“She mentioned older writings. Maybe they’ll have more information.” Determination glinted in Francine’s eye as she got up and marched deeper into the cavern-like library.
The shelves were built to human scale; no dragon had yet learned how to wield a pen in its claws, let alone flip through the delicate pages of a book. Or even the less delicate sealskin parchment. Lights glimmered on as Francine stormed through the darkened shelves. Another mystery of the enchantment that held this place together.
Shadow dragon magic. His people’s magic.Hismagic. Familiar guilt churned in his gut. He shouldn’t need to hunt through old records and diaries to discover the secrets of this place. His own power fed the fortress’s enchantment; if therewere hidden weapons or passageways or loopholes, shouldn’t he be able to sense them?
But every time he thought of his magic flowing through the fortress, all he saw was his dragon losing control back on the island, tearing a stone tower to pieces and almost killing everyone inside.
Scales twitched beneath his skin. He dropped his head, eyes closing for a moment to better connect to his dragon.We both lost our minds, he corrected himself in apology.And it was my rage, as much as yours. I wanted it all to be over. I had nothing left, and I wanted there to be nothing left of me…
He lifted his head, eyes going directly to where Francine was stalking through the shadowed shelves.
I did not know how much I had left to lose.
Francine stopped. She flapped one hand, then glared back at him over her shoulder. “What’s wrong with the lights down here?” she asked. She took another step forward. Shadows clung all around her. But the world down here was alreadyinthe shadows, which meant—
“Francine! Stop!”
He lunged forward, pulling her roughly back before she could get any further. She stumbled against him, and he dragged her with him until they were back in the light.
“What are you—” She broke off, coughing. “What’s—”
“Are you all right?” He looked her over. The lights shone brighter as he desperately checked her for injuries, or—or—what would it even look like?
She coughed again. “What the hell was that? It felt like I was inhaling smoke. Orsand.”
“The enchantment is falling apart. That part of the room—” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
She looked back the way she’d been walking before Julian grabbed her. “Oh, no. That’s not good.”
As they both watched, the shadows bent and rippled, like a branch in heavy winds. At the very edge, where light met shadow, the shelves and everything on them were … frayed. As though pieces of them had disappeared into the shadows and not come back.
Not the shadows. The solid, frozen rock into which the fortress was carved.
There was only one explanation for this.
“Adria was right. Our magic is running out. And now there isn’t enough magic to hold it in place.” He took a slow breath, which did nothing to steady him. “We’re in the outer part of the fortress, here. Storage rooms.”
“They’re disappearing back into the rock.”
“Yes.”
