As they went down the steps covered in piles of silver rot, crunches came, similar to the sound of footsteps in snow. A whooshing followed it. They were clearing the steps with their boots.
Orro went next, using his light to guide us. There was a railing, luckily untouched by rot, but the steps were covered in it. Even with the guards clearing most of the rot, a layer remained, making the way unsteady. I glanced back to see that Hud was still with us.
At my lifted eyebrows, he said, “I told you I'm responsible. I also need to see what's down here if we're going to rebuild.”
Orro grunted in approval.
I watched the horns in front of us, making their way down the stairs. Their passage created a steady rhythm of crunch, whoosh, pause. It felt as if we descended for twenty minutes, but that was only because of how slow we had to go. Finally, we reached the bottom.
“I see a light pull,” the Ricarri horn said. “Dear Gods.”
The sudden illumination made me blink. The light was brighter than I expected. Then the vast space before us came into focus, and Orro pushed the Ricarri out of the way so the rest of us could enter.
“Holy fuck,” Orro whispered.
The entire room was covered in silver, magnifying the light from the lanterns above. Worktables, counters, and other pieces of furniture had been turned into little silver hills. Under my boots, silver mounds collapsed with cracking sounds. It felt like walking over delicate webs of glass, not like snow at all. I paused, waiting to see if disturbing it would release silver spores into the air, but the rot only crumbled in on itself to become glittering sand. As long as we didn't try to burn it, we should be fine.
“There's another stairwell over there.” Orro pointed.
“And you will not be descending it without me!” a roar echoed through the room, causing silver to rain down from the ceiling.
We all ducked while simultaneously turning to see the Dragon King standing at the bottom of the stairwell with his Dragon knights. I think several of them were smirking at me, but I couldn't tell since they all had construction masks on.
Chapter Thirty
Sighing, I went to speak with the Dragon King, shaking silver flakes from my hair as I went. He met me halfway, his expression unreadable thanks to the mask he wore.
“Sevarin,” he said, low and soft.
“I took guards and had Torli notify you,” I hastily cut him off.
“Yes, I know. You've kept to our agreement. But once you found this,”—he motioned at the room, his stare darkening—“you should have returned.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to investigate this with you.”
“You're payingmeto do this work. You have your own job to do.”
“Sevarin, you were supposed to be resting. Not wading through rot!” He waved his hand at the silver-coated room. “You know I'm right.”
“Yes, but I recalled the bridge falling, and it occurred to me it shouldn't have.” I glanced at the men watching us and lowered my voice. “I think I was wrong.”
“How so?”
“It does spread through resonant enchantment loops, but I don't know if removing those will end this. Look at this room. It's the worst case of rot I've seen. I need to find what's causing this before I can be certain.” I motioned to the floor. “It's as thick as snowfall. It must be coming from below. And if this was the first case, then whatever is below is likely the origin of the Silver Rot. I didn't think there was an origin. That hidden armory led me to believe the rot spontaneously appeared within the magic. Now, I'm not so sure.”
“Yes, fine. You will investigate. But I will go with you.” He pulled a silver chain from his jacket and handed it to me. Hanging from it was a spherical pendant.
“What's this?” I inspected the pendant. Within a wire cage was a black cloth ball.
“It's a protective talisman.” Falken lifted his chin.
I smirked even though he couldn't see it behind my mask. “Then maybe you should wear it.”
The Dragon King leaned down, his hair glinting gold in the light, and his eyes glowing with amber fire. “If you die, I will burn this city to the ground.”
I gaped at him.
