Titaia flashes me a reluctant smile and takes a few steps backward.
“Go,” I encourage. “I’ll let you know if I can figure out a way to help her.”
She gives me a grateful smile and starts down the tunnel. I watch the glow of her aura disappear with the sound of her fading footsteps before I finally turn. Pushing my shoulders back and steeling my spine, I head into the darkness.
I’ve barely taken a hundred paces before the light from my aura illuminates a heavy wooden door. I test the handle, but of course, it’s locked. Kneeling, I place the aura on the rough stone floor and push aside the skirt of my dress, flicking open the lockpick satchel strapped to my thigh holster. I pull out two of the picks and slide them into the keyhole. It doesn’t take long before I’m rewarded with the sound of a sharp click, the lock snapping open.
Returning my picks, I swipe up the aura, stand, and push the door open. The same unease I felt during my first trial creeps up my spine as I step into the room, my senses warning me of a predator lying in wait.
“Sphinx?” The whispered word echoes in the space, followed by the scrape of a claw on stone.
“Daughter of the Tempest.” Her voice comes before she appears from the shadows. “I did say we would meet again. Although this is sooner than even I foresaw.”
I step farther into the room as my eyes lock on to the collar at her neck. “You are not here of your own will.”
“I am rarely anywhere of my own will.”
My gaze flicks back up to hers, the golden catlike eyes luminous in the dark. “I was hoping we could help one another.”
“And what is it you seek?”
“What is it you guard?” I fire back.
A slow, predatory smile curls her lips.
“To some I bring death; to others I bring safety.
If it weren’t for me, many would die,
But because of me, many will.
Tell me, Daughter, what am I?”
An answering smile blooms across my face. “A weapon.”
Sphinx purrs, her eyes glimmering with approval.
“If I can remove the collar, will you be free?”
“As free as any of us can be,” she replies, her layered voice echoing through the chamber.
“And if you are freed, will you stand in the way of any looking to pass through the door behind you?”
“I do not willingly stand in the way of fate.”
I frown at the words but approach her and reach toward her throat. She hisses as I spin the collar, committing thegoiteíamarks to memory. Fortunately, they’re ones I recognize—marks for obedience and the like. Sphinx’s golden gaze sharpens as my fingers brush against her skin. Her sharp exhale ripples through the chamber, low and layered. “You see it now, don’t you?” she murmurs, her lips curling into a razor-edged smile.
I pull back, eyes narrowing as her meaning skirts just out of reach. “See what?”
“You’re like him,” she replies, her words dripping with amusement. “Not the prince, no. Farther back. Even the gods themselves. Their essence is buried in you—a tempest chained as they were, a songbird with clipped wings and sharp claws. They bound me to this place, Daughter. And they bound you, too, when they gave you breath.”
Her gaze flickers down, and a clawed hand flies toward me. I barely process her words before a sting of pain makes me stumble away. When I look down, I freeze. The mark she leaves on my sternum doesn’t bleed. It glows and instantly heals over, leaving a silvered symbol shimmering before my eyes. Tendrils twist and curl, creating an impression that feels both hauntingly familiar and strangely foreign.
I watch with a mixture of shock and awe as the mark fades into my skin until it vanishes. As though my body itself absorbed the magic.
“What have you done?” I whisper.
Sphinx leans back, her wings folding as she prowls forward, golden eyes flashing with something far too knowing. “It is not a curse—it is an anchor. And you, unyielding and untamed as you are, can shatter its chains for both of us. Perhaps all of us.”
