“Yes, but where shall I search?”
“You're staying here.” He steps closer so only she can hear. “I want you safe, and if a fireball returns, we need to know where it came from.”
She nods, slightly dejected but understanding the importance of her role nonetheless.
Aura whispers in her hand, and four more sentient flames with curly cues appear. Each bounces toward one of her companions while the fourth stays at her side.
“They are tasked with following you. If something happens, they will return straight to me.”
If I fall, the Treland Sacred Stone falls too. At least in death, my father won’t be able to admonish me… at least, until he finds the Stone and forces his way into the Depths.
Fuck. I cannot escape him in death.
30
CALDER
October 7, Year 21, 10th Era
Makt’s Temple, Skalor
Calder’s tiny flame dances happily beside his massive leather boots, making a faint squeak each time it bounces off the stone floor. He hates leaving Aura alone, but they must move swiftly and cautiously to obtain the god weapon and leave before Lavinia realizes their plan.
And if it’s between saving my beautiful girl and myself, I will choose her every time.
An honorable man would have admitted his severe lapse in judgment at the secluded hot springs outside Geit. Touching her was against her father’s orders, an act that would condemn him to the only family that ever embraced him.
A respectable man would have given the young woman a room of her own in Viktoft, rather than toying with her in such a despicable, debauched manner.
Among all the winters spent battling the notion that he is the very demon whom all fear him to be, Aura embodies the harrowing truth.
That if anything were to happen to the Princess, every single fucking afterlife would crumble just for him to see her smile oncemore. Man, woman, and God should fear his ice because he refuses to hold back anymore.
Aura Sigvidsson-Redwood belongs to him.
Even if it means fate condemns him to cross axes with the infamous Beast of the Salt Province.
Slowly, Calder descends the ancient stone steps. His gaze locks on Aura until the next level of darkness obscures his vision. His cheerful little fireball bounces before him, granting him enough light not to crash into something.
At the bottom of the stairs, he enters a similar immense square chamber with two other entrances. One door is jammed shut, while the other opens to a space with barely enough reading materials to be considered a library.
Aura would love to see this.
He directs his fiery friend toward a couple of torches hanging on the walls while he continues to explore. Odd Gothi objects, including ceremonial daggers, unidentified bones, and spherical orbs filled with glowing mist, clutter the tables and shelves that stretch from the floor to the low ceiling.
He cautiously inspects the dusty racks. Two glass cases contain a few tomes penned in ancient runes. In a smaller case lies a human skeletal hand wearing a large onyx ring.
Why would they have this?
He drops the bones back onto the velvet cushion and returns to the central passage.
“Calder!”A booming voice like that of a general bellowing through the clamorous dirge of a battlefield blares in his mind.
“Who is there? Show yourself!” He draws Freyja, unsure what twistedseidrhe has unleashed in the depths.
Chilling laughter answers.“Your beloved steel cannot touch me. You know who I am and what I want, my son.”
A black mist materializes from behind a corner shelf with vials swirling in every color he can perceive.
