Page 316
Something ancient.
“Rex vorath.” Wake up.
The words fall from my lips in a language I didn’t know existed a day ago, but roll off my tongue as though they've lived inside me since before I was born. A part of me I don’t understand, but belongs to me as surely as the powers that burn beneath my skin.
The command starts as a whisper, but as the cavern keeps trying to tear itself apart and the shaking intensifies, my voice grows louder and louder until I’m fighting to be heard above the destruction.
Just when I think my voice may give out, the universe answers.
Fire erupts from my palms. An invisible shield I didn’t know was there blinks into reality, then shatters like glass, breaking apart so forcefully that I stumble back, nearly losing my balance.
The fragments merge, twisting into a spiral of shimmering red, silver, and blue. They snake and climb around the pillar like a corkscrew, squeezing.
When the first crack appears, a rush of excitement hits me.
Another crack follows. Then another, and another, until the entire pillar is rupturing. Water steams and hisses, thickening the air and making it hard to breathe.
The air roars. The walls crack and splinter above us. Branwen screams my name, but I don’t dare turn around. Soon her voice is lost to the thunderous sound of the world exploding.
The pillar shatters.
Light and flame and sound burst apart, then collide and reform into something blinding and raw. The ground shakes and rocks, thrashing and heaving as I fight to stay upright on unsteady legs.
I refuse to run. Refuse to look away or cower.
A sound like rolling thunder breaks through the air. High above, the Earth heaves, then tears apart in a storm of molten stone and shards of ice. Through the chaos, the night sky appears, dark and endless and glittering with a million stars.
I throw my arms over my head and fall to my knees, trying to shield myself. Ash swirls through the air as the ground keeps bucking. I barely have a moment to worry for Branwen and pray she made it to the other Chamber, where she won’t be struck.
I curl myself into the tightest ball I can, trying to protect my head and face as the world rips apart around me.
Slowly, the shaking begins to calm. The fire dims, and the sound of stone and soil ripping apart lulls, leaving an ominous silence in its wake.
Clumps of dirt keep falling from high above, skittering down the walls and rolling to a stop.
Bracing myself, I cautiously raise my head, blinking furiously to see through the dust and vapor—the air shimmers from heat and the metallic scent of scorched stone.
The once-dim, quiet cavern is now brilliantly illuminated by a bluish-white fire. It burns along the walls, flickering in jagged streaks like lightning.
As the dust shifts and the air clears, my gaze falls on the now-empty space where the pillar once stood.
No. Not empty.
Vharax.
It’s impossible to breathe. Impossible to think. She shifts, and the world narrows until only the two of us remain—the girl who wanted nothing more than to free her, and the creature waiting to be freed.
Her head only reaches my shoulder, but her size is irrelevant. Not when every cell of my body is screaming at me at once, alerting me to the rather obvious fact that this creature is a predator.
White and silver scales gleam in the firelight, each one perfectly smooth and intricately formed. Her wings are only slightly unfurled, letting me glimpse the bright blue veining threaded delicately along the nearly translucent membrane.
At first, she’s too busy studying her surroundings to bother with me. But when her head—attached to a long, delicate neck—pivots in my direction, tears spring to my eyes, and I finally remember to breathe.
Her gaze meets mine—ancient, powerful, and impossibly familiar.
Real. She’s impossibly, inconceivably real.
We stare unblinking at one another for what feels like forever. Tears spill from my eyes, leaving tracks down my cheeks at the sheer impossibility of what’s in front of me.
