On the right side of the smooth, onyx surface, I found another line.
“Beneath the dark, dreamless expanse, something hidden sleeps—far from helpless hands and distant leaps.”
While more phrases had been carved—gouged—into the surface, I couldn’t make out anything else.
I’d stayed here too long yet not long enough. Why did that thought rise in my mind?
Another bellow rang out behind me. The beast was hungry. Well, it wouldn’t feast today.
After peering around and finding nothing else of interest, I stalked back out to the pillars and stood beneath the outstretched, torn fingers of the canopy. The sand churned everywhere I looked. The creature’s call had brought othersnear, and they slashed through the sand, eager to dine on my magic.
Sending out my threads, I sought the creatures, driving my silver spears deep into the soil. Stabbing. They cried out. Thrashed.
And retreated.
Closing my eyes, I gathered the few wisps of my remaining power, and I flitted, but instead of returning to my fury, I landed on my knees beside the wall, the barrier to everything beyond. It loomed above me, a vast, impenetrable thing I would overcome like I had my pain and horror I’d lived through when Ivenrail tortured my mother.
The wretched abuse of my uncle.
The scorn from the high lords and ladies as the king guzzled down the core to my court’s power.
Every fiend who was eager to rip my fury from my arms and hurt her.
I bellowed out a challenge, and I swore the wall shook with dismay. My grim smile rose, and I nodded. Then I started walking, ignoring the murky wasteland on my left, the building perched in the distance, and the fear creeping through my heart.
It wasn’t over yet.Iwasn’t over yet. I had so much more to do before I died.
As I made my way beside the high wall, I kept a steady pace. It was only when I sensed something horrible, something terrifying, drawing near that I halted.
I sent out my threads, seeking.
The sound hadn’t come from here but . ..
The wards I’d placed around Weldsbane jerked. Someone was stalking my fury.
Closing my eyes, I scrambled to pull in magic, guzzling it down like Ivenrail had the power I fed through each and every Nullen brought to him by the Lieges.
And I used it to travel.
My mind floated up over—nothrough—the wall, and the world parted like a slice gaping wide in the sky. I floundered toward it as if I swam against the current of a raging river, struggling not to drown as I made my way perilously forward.
“You will not passss,” someone hissed.
Iasar hovered in the air not far from me, his wings flapping in a lazy way that maintained his position while I struggled to reach the gap, my magic leaching from me in heavy waves with each flail of my arms.
“If I don’t get through, I can’t help her,” I cried out in stark desperation. “I have to get to my fury. My fated mate.”
“Go back,” he snarled. “Allow yoursssself to drop back to where you came from, and I won’t killssss you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Too late.” He drew in a breath of air that seemed to suck in the world along with it. Flames coiled in his eyes, in his lungs, and I braced myself to blaze and be extinguished. I deserved it for what I’d done.
Amronth flew between us, flapping his wings. “Don’t.”
The breath whooshed from Iasar, and the flames banked in his eyes. “If anyone sssshould hate him, it’ssss you.”
“We’re free. We’re together once more.”
