There are illumination crystals in that alcove. Take only one each. They will guide your steps, but drain quickly.
I moved to the alcove and grabbed a smooth crystal from the shallow dish. It flared softly in my palm, casting a pale-blue glow across the cold stone.
“What about the other riders?” I asked, voice tight. “Their dragons—what if Theron orders them to follow us?”
Siergen’s eyes gleamed like Bloodfire.No dragon will answer their rider’s call until this travesty is rectified.
I blinked. “You can do that?”
His growl rolled through the chamber like distant thunder.Go.
Zander didn’t hesitate.
He swung his legs over the edge and dropped, his body vanishing into the dark. I followed, clutching the crystal tight as I slid into the mouth of the catacombs. The chill struck instantly, wrapping around my shoulders like the breath of the dead.
My feet hit the ground seconds later, the stone floor damp beneath my boots.
Above us, the last rays of light flickered?—
And then the opening began to seal.
Stone slid into place like a tomb being closed, the final sliver of Siergen’s glowing scales the last thing I saw before darkness swallowed the world.
We were below the castle now.
And there was no going back.
The catacombs breathed around us like something ancient and living. Cold air slipped through unseen cracks, whispering secrets that had long since turned to dust.
Our illumination crystals glowed soft-blue in our hands, casting just enough light to see the carved path beneath our feet. Moss clung to the walls, and faint etchings, symbols I didn’t recognize, lined the narrow corridor as we wound deeper into the forgotten bones of the castle.
Stone gave way to silence.
Then silence gave way to questions.
I glanced over at Zander, his face was pale in the glow, with shadows under his eyes. “That thing Siergen did,” I said quietly. “With the dragons. With the guild. Is that… normal?”
He shook his head, his footsteps steady beside mine. “No. Dragons are powerful, but they rarely interfere on that scale. I didn’t realize any dragon had that kind of authority.”
“Like… pre-guild?”
He nodded once. “Like something out of the Old Wars.”
I swallowed and let the thought settle like a weight in my gut. “Did you know he could do that?”
Zander’s expression darkened. “No. I knew Siergen was old. Trusted. Respected by nearly every dragon in Warriath. But this? This level of authority?” He paused, the soft-blue glow catching on the ragged edge of a scab at his collarbone. “No. I didn’t know.”
We kept moving, our footsteps echoing now. The air was drier here, cleaner. Like it hadn’t been disturbed in centuries.
At last, the path widened, and we came to a narrow, arched stairway carved from deep-gray stone. The steps ascended in a graceful curve, worn smooth with age.
I paused at the bottom, staring up into the darkness. “Where does this lead?”
Zander tilted his crystal upward, its glow pushing just far enough to reveal the first few steps.
“Let’s find out,” he said, and started up.
And I followed him to whatever waited above.
