They hurried forward, entering into rooms that twinkled with captured starlight or were covered in the softest glowing moss. And when Niya sensed giants approaching, the pounding of their footfalls hard to miss, they ducked into the thick vines carpeting the walls. After another half sand fall of exploring, Niya noticing Alōs’s growing frustration, she began to fear that perhaps whatever he sensed might merely have been a phantom of hope. The place was enormous, with many spectacular items waiting for them in each room.
Especially when they stood before two glowing green orbs, no bigger than apples, that circled each other endlessly. They floated above a plush pillow, the only two items in one of the rooms.
“What are they?” she asked, watching the balls spin around and around, as though drawn to one another but unable to touch. Magic was assuredly trapped here. Is this what Alōs felt? she wondered with dismay.
“Connection stones,” said Alōs, the green before them lighting up his face. “I have only ever seen these in Esrom.”
She frowned, looking back at the orbs. She had never heard of them before.
“What do they do?”
“Their magic can bind two beings together. When split up, either party can summon the other. I hear to refuse the call can be painful. Like splinters in your blood until you meet again with whoever holds the other piece. Connection stones do not like to be separated for long.”
“Sounds dreadful. Who would ever bind themselves like that?”
Alōs did not answer, only stared at the spinning orbs, his gaze growing distant.
“Alōs?” She stepped closer, but he turned from her, walking from the room.
Niya glanced back to the connection stones, confusion swirling at what he had seen that she didn’t, before following him out.
They continued searching in a tense silence, sensing that their time here was almost up, until Alōs suddenly set off down the hall in a jog.
Niya’s nerves buzzed as she chased after him. “What is it?” she asked as he skidded to a stop by the last open door in the hall.
“In here,” he said. “I can feel something—”
But his words died on his tongue as they both peered into the room.
“By the Fade,” whispered Niya.
They stood before a room of horrors.
Shelves lined the walls, displaying people from all over Aadilor, taxidermized and frozen. A group of men from the northeast lands of Hultez was positioned on their knees, looks of terror on their faces as they held up shields. Two women from Shanjaree hugged one another, their features pinched in heartbreaking sorrow. Even children were displayed but were made to smile.
Niya’s blood ran cold.
“Do you think . . . ?”
“Yes,” said Alōs, stepping deeper inside. “These are all who have died here. It appears we’ve found the chief’s trophy room.”
As if she were tranced by the gore, Niya walked the rows, a buzz filling her ears. Creatures of all kinds filled the cases, not just humans, and on some she began to take note of a difference on a few of their plaques. “What do you think this symbol means?” She pointed to a cluster of stars stamped on the metal nameplates. These stuffed trophies, compared to all the others, were always situated at the front, as though they were the jewels of the collection.
“I think”—Alōs came to her side, studying the hollow eyes of a woman whose arms were raised up, as though she were pushing out something from within—“that means they were gifted.”
Niya blinked. “What? With magic?”
He nodded. “It appears they are their favorites to eat.”
Niya backed away, her throat growing tight. “We have to get out of here.”
But as she turned into the next row, a rumbling growl vibrated the stone at her feet.
Niya froze.
If it weren’t for the gently swooshing tail, Niya would have thought it was another stuffed trophy.
A large feline lay curled by a lit fireplace a stone’s throw away. Its head rested on thick paws while its slit hazel eyes stared straight at them.
Niya was seized with cold panic, just as her nose instantly began to itch. Cats. She hated cats. Especially abnormally large ones.
The feline lifted its head then and gave a sleepy yawn. Sharp teeth, the length of Niya’s forearm, gleamed like ivory daggers in the firelight.
Niya’s heart lurched, but not because of the toothy daggers, but because there, dangling from the cat’s collar, in the center of swirling metal, winked a red gem.
“Alōs—”
“If you’re going to make a joke about me referring to us as mice earlier,” he said from where he remained motionless behind her, “you can save it.”
“No, look.” She jutted her chin forward. “At its collar.”
“The Prism Stone,” whispered Alōs before his tone turned annoyed. “Decorating a cat?”
Despite the tension gripping her entire body, she found herself rolling her eyes. “I think you’re concentrating on the wrong part here, pirate. We found it.”
“On a beast that might be worse than a giant.”
Niya’s magic crashed against her sides, a rippling of anticipation as she studied the creature who studied them. “It’s not so big.”
“Yet one roar could alarm all the guests to come running.”
“Not if it’s too tired to make a sound,” she suggested, the beginning of a plan forming. “And it already seems awfully tired.”
Approaching slowly, Niya ignored Alōs’s hiss of warning as she began to sway her hips.
The feline’s ears pressed back as it watched her approach, its back arching in readiness before she pushed out her magic in a puff of red haze. Relax. She sent her intentions soaring through the air, covering the cat like a warm blanket.
Its eyes drooped.
Sleep, she instructed, moving her fingers as if she herself were petting the beast instead of waves of her magic.
Slowly the cat lowered its head back onto its paws. Vibrating purrs filled the room.
She glanced to Alōs with a grin, satisfaction radiating through her. “See? Sleepy. Now come be a proper thief and steal your jewel while I keep him drowsy.”
Alōs stepped to her side, eyeing the cat suspiciously. “How do you know it’s a he?”
Niya shrugged. “He feels lazy.”
Alōs gave her a dry glance. “Nice.”
Turning back to the cat, he let out a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. The jeweled medallion on the feline’s collar was now half-buried beneath where its head rested. Alōs would need to dig under its chin to pull it free.
Though Niya felt like a twisted-up tangle of nerves, she continued to twirl her wrists in a soothing rhythm. She could sense the strength of the beast under her fingertips, though this animal appeared already half-domesticated. But even the gentlest of cats could scratch at random. Another reason she loathed them. Distrustful creatures.
Niya watched Alōs step over one large paw, knocking into a whisker. Niya sucked in a breath as the cat shifted, belly up, bringing Alōs with it.
He now sat straddling the beast, the pendant directly in front of him. He kept still.
Niya forcing her rapidly beating heart steady.
Calm, she breathed into her gifts. Gentle.
Sleepy purrs emanated through the room once more.
A sigh of relief.
Alōs’s gaze became marble then, eyes trained on the winking red gem a reach away.
He pulled one of his daggers free, silver gleaming in the firelight.
With a barely audible pop, he lifted out the red stone. It winked as he turned it over and over before his glowing eyes landed on her, a triumphant grin beaming.
“It’s here,” he said. “It’s all here.”
A rush of relief and elation threatened to knock Niya to her knees.
We did it! By the stars and sea, we did it!
The last piece of the Prism Stone.
Esrom would be saved.
She would be free.
Alōs slid down, returning to her side, and with her buzz of adrenaline she hugged him.
His strong arms held her tight, their blue gazes colliding as they pulled away.
The moment felt oddly perfect.
His eyes dipped to her mouth, setting off new flutters in her stomach.
Niya held still as he leaned in, knowing and wanting what was about to happen.
And then she sneezed.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Niya could now attest that being chased by a giant cat was an overrated experience.
She and Alōs careened around the corner leading from the trophy room back into the hallway just as another roar of the beast shoved them from behind.