He had fractured the entire Guild.
Use the chaos to slip away.
Siergen’s voice seared into my mind like fire through fog—unyielding and ancient. His thoughts didn’t ask. They commanded.
We must free Hein’s rider.
I hesitated for half a second, glancing across the carnage unraveling on the Ascension Grounds. Iron Fang had turned feral, Stormforge refused to back down, and our squad was standing with Warborn, defending Cade like he was blood. No one noticed me slip through the edge of the fray, ducking behind the broken line of benches and circling toward the castle wall.
Zander wasn’t going to die in chains.
Not today.
Do you know where he is?I asked mentally, dodging a collapsing banner as I darted toward the castle arch.
The dungeon,Siergen replied, his thoughts echoing inside my mind.He is in a cell near the corridor that runs beside Alahathrial’s.
“Did you know he’s Zander’s father?” I whispered aloud, my voice barely audible in the echo of dragon cries overhead.
Of course,Siergen responded, with something almost like amusement.I smell his lineage. But Alahathrial’s children must survive.
I followed his mental pull into the castle, my boots soft against the cold stone. Most of the guards had already fled to the grounds, trying to restrain the explosion of blades and oaths. The corridors were eerily empty, like the castle itself was holding its breath.
“You know about Elara, too,” I said softly.
She is the light,Siergen answered.Her brother, the dark. But it is him we need now.
My chest tightened.Brother and sister.One who ruled with warmth. One forged by shadow. Neither ready for the war we were about to lose if I failed.
We moved deeper into the belly of the keep, past forgotten tapestries and sealed doorways, until the scent of mildew and iron filled the air. The dungeon corridor yawned ahead, narrow and lined with flickering torches.
He’s close,Siergen said, his voice like a sure hand in my mind.
I pressed forward, silent, heart pounding.
Because one way or another, I was getting Zander Rayne out.
The heavy dungeon door loomed ahead, thick iron reinforced with ancient bolts and the kind of enchantments that whispered of cruelty, not mercy.
It was locked, of course.
But Siergen simply inhaled, and the fire that bloomed in his throat illuminated the corridor like dawn breaking. He exhaled a narrow stream of concentrated flame, and the door didn’t burn… it vanished, disintegrated into molten slag and ash that coated the floor like black snow.
“That’s handy,” I muttered, blinking as we stepped over the charred remains.
The cell was dim, dank, and unforgiving. Chains rattled slightly as Zander looked up from where he was shackled to the wall, his wrists raw, his shirt soaked with sweat and blood. But the moment his eyes met mine, he smiled.
Even now. Even here.
I dropped to my knees beside him, heart thundering. “Where’s the key?”
“On the guard who was watching the door,” he said dryly.
I frowned. “They’re all on the Ascension Grounds. Your death sentence didn’t go over very well.”
Zander’s nostrils flared. “Theron sentenced me to death?”
“You didn’t know?” I whispered, stunned.
