“Because,” I said carefully, “something is stirring beneath the Hollow Throne. Something that’s been dormant since the War of Unmaking. Your awakening roused it, and if it breaks free…”
I didn’t finish the sentence. I didn’t need to. She was intelligent enough to follow the implication.
“What kind of something?”
“I don’t know. And I would rather not find out. All I know is that it has plagued every member of my bloodline for centuries. If it’s released, it won’t stop with us. It will become a plague upon the entire world.” I held her gaze. “I may be dying, but I intend to break this cycle before my final breath. That’s why I need you.”
The watchtower rose ahead of us like a finger stabbing at the sky, its stones darkened by age and weather. It had once guarded the road between rival kingdoms, back when there were kingdoms worth guarding. Now it stood hollow, windows black, its purpose long forgotten.
But not abandoned.
Eyes gleamed in the shadows at its base.
Too many eyes. Burning with cold fire that had nothing to do with life.
The spectral wolves had found us again, or perhaps these were different ones. In the Cursed Lands, the distinction was meaningless.
They circled the tower in perfect silence, their forms flickering between solid and translucent. Waiting. Watching. Hungry.
“Well,” Seris said conversationally, “it seems like we’re expected.”
I counted quickly. Twelve. Maybe fifteen. It was difficult to be certain when they phased in and out of visibility.
Too many to fight outright, even with my shadows.
“They’re not attacking,” I observed.
“Yet.”
“They’re afraid of something.” I studied their formation, the deliberate distance they kept from the tower itself. “Something inside has them wary.”
“Should I be reassured or terrified?”
“In the Cursed Lands? Probably both.”
The largest of the spectral wolves stepped forward, its gaze locked on Seris with unmistakable hunger. It stopped abruptly at what appeared to be an invisible barrier, pressing against something that held it at bay.
“The tower is warded,” I realized. “Likely a last-ditch effort to survive the Veil-storm.”
“Can we reach it?”
“Only one way to find out.”
I reached for her hand, and this time she didn’t flinch when I touched her. I guided her toward the edge of the ward encircling the tower. The wolves tracked every movement with predatory focus.
“Stay close,” I murmured. “And stay calm. I’d rather not be disintegrated along with the wolves.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Under different circumstances, I might have laughed.
Together, we advanced. The wolves pressed nearer with every step, their forms growing denser, more solid. I could feel their hunger like a physical force battering against my shields.
Just before they could lunge, we crossed the threshold.
The wards flared to life around us like a cage snapping shut, and the wolves recoiled with frustrated shrieks that echoed off the ancient stone.
We were safe.
