“Great. Why they stuck me with you three, I’ll never know. You’d think one of us would have a good mage light down.” Cat removes her bow, then swings her pack from her back and rummages past the full quiver to pull out a small, unlit torch.
“Are you kidding me?” I gawk as she brings a piece of wood no larger than my palm from the bag, shakes her head, and reaches for another. “You carry one of those around with you?”
“Obviously.” Cat digs into her bag again. “The fact that you don’t says that you haven’t been appropriately scared of the dark yet. Shit, I can’t find the fire rune Maren made.”
“You all trade runes?” Visia stares in open shock.
“And you call yourselves a family. Of course we share. Whoever can make it, does. Then we all trade so everyone is equally equipped.” Cat shakes her head and stands, muttering a curse. “I can’t find it.”
“That’s…brilliant,” I admit. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“You’re used to hoarding power,” she says with a dismissive shrug. “Not sharing it. Now, unless someone has an idea for fire—”
“Got it.” I yank off my gloves, then stuff them into one pocket and pull my conduit from the other, beckoning a trickle of my power to rise. It tingles, then burns as it flows down my hand, through my fingers, and into the conduit. The tendrils of energy light our immediate surroundings.
“That’s so awesome.” Visia smiles. “Can all of you do that?”
“No. It just hums for most of us. Glad to see you’ll have all the light you need.” Sarcasm drips from Cat’s voice.
“Take it,” I order Sloane.
“I’d rather live.” She puts her hands up.
“If I thought it was going to kill you, I’d hand it to Cat.” I hold the conduit out to her.
Cat snorts, but I think there was a note of laughter there.
“Good point.” Sloane takes the conduit, and I concentrate on keeping the energy connected.
“Back up three steps. Good, another two,” I tell her, and my fingers tremble as she does, stretching my signet.
“Wow,” Visia whispers.
“Stick the torch into the energy, Cat.”
“You think that’s safe?” she asks.
“I have no clue, but I’m game to try if you are.” I keep focused on the conduit, on the flow of energy, on the heat I keep checked by controlling the door to Tairn’s power.
Kira clicks her tongue in a series of sounds I’ve become accustomed to but have no hope of ever understanding.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” Cat mutters, then lowers the torch until it catches fire.
I immediately drop my hand, cutting off the power, and I send a prayer of thanks to Dunne that it worked. Felix is probably going to have my head on a pike tomorrow at lessons. “I’ll take it. Thanks, Sloane.”
Sloane hands the conduit back like it might explode.
“Damn,” Cat says, glancing from the torch, to the conduit, to me. “I hate that you’re so…”
“Badass?” Sloane suggests, smiling in a way that reminds me of her brother.
“Powerful,” Cat admits, looking away before slipping her pack back on, changing hands with the torch instead of passing it off.
“It’s not the power making that possible,” I tell her, channeling into the conduit so it lights up again and marching into the darkness. “It’s the control.”
“Yeah, well, I kind of loathe that, too,” she mutters, catching up to walk at my side.
“A rare moment of honesty. I’ll take it.” We move into the cave, which seems to widen with every step we take. “They paired us because I’m supposedly the most powerful rider in the squad,” I tell her, ignoring her muttered response. “But you’re better at runes. We might not compliment each other, but we complement each other.” I smile despite the darkness we’re walking into. “Get it? With an E instead of the I.”
Cat looks at me like I’ve just grown a third arm, and the torch starts to flicker.
There’s a breeze.
“Are you telling scribe jokes?” Sloane asks, a couple of steps behind us, Visia at her side.
“Jesinia would think it’s funny,” Visia offers like she’s trying to save me.
“Jesinia is a scribe,” Sloane notes.
The cave opens up about twenty feet in, a vast tunnel forking to the left.
“Apparently there’s a much easier way to get into this cave,” Cat mutters.
“It’s part of a network that runs through this range,” I explain.
“Should we split up?” Visia asks.
“No!” All three of us respond at the same time.
“Which way do we go?” Sloane voices the question we’re all wondering.
No one answers.
“Any help?” I ask Tairn, feeling our bond stretch. He’s not far but definitely not close, either.
“There’s an energy signature in that cave. That’s all I can tell.”
“I vote right. If it doesn’t work, we’ll come back and go left.” I look to the others.
Cat nods, and we head farther in.
“So do you think you’ll get a second signet?” Visia asks, breaking the silence. “Two dragons, two signets, right?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, glancing back at Andarna. I actually figured because she bonded me so young and lost the ability to stop time, the signet of lightning wielding was all that I would be blessed with. But now I wonder… “Will I?”
“Why are you asking me? Signets manifest according to the person wielding.” Her eyes blink gold, her black scales blending in with the darkness.
“Second signets only happen when a dragon bonds a rider in the direct familial line as its previous,” Sloane says, misunderstanding Visia’s question. “But there’s an equal chance of it causing madness. From what Thoirt told me, that’s why Cruth wasn’t punished for bonding Quinn. She’s only the great-niece of her previous rider. Her signet’s more powerful but not entirely different.”
“Thoirt shouldn’t be telling you matters resolved within the Empyrean,” Visia lectures, then does a double take when she glances my way.
Gravity shifts. That can’t be right. That would mean—
“Violet, are you okay?” Visia asks.
I shake my head but say, “Yes.” How do you explain your heart is sinking past the rock floor of the cave? I take a deep breath, flex and unflex my hand as I grip the brightly glowing conduit. Andarna growls to my right, and I quickly assure her, “I’m fine.” But we both know I’m anything but fine—I’m also equally certain now isn’t the time to let my mind wander down that path.
“Holy shit, there it is,” Sloane says, forcing me to pay attention as she walks past us to pick up the plain metal chest that’s locked into an open position by the rune on the front.
“It’s…plain,” Visia notes.
“Are you going to counter the summoning rune?” I ask Cat. When she raises one brow, I add, “You’re better at runes, remember?”
“I am.” She nods, a genuine smile curving her mouth for the first time since I met her. “I just wanted to see if you’d say it again.”
Kiralair’s wing brushes my shoulder as she walks past us into the darkness, as if Cat needs to be guarded from the unseen.
Cat glances between the three of us with an uncertain—and unhappy— tense set to her mouth, then hands the torch to Visia in what looks like a painful sacrifice.
No, not a sacrifice: a gesture of trust.
She weaves the unlocking rune with a speed I envy, her hands moving quickly, confidently, as Andarna shifts her weight behind me.
“What’s wrong?”
“The scent of others grows stronger.”
“Wyvern?” Every muscle in my body clenches.
“No. They smell of stolen magic when you get close enough.” She lifts her head, taking up three-quarters of the tunnel. “This smells of…dragons.”
“Got it!” Cat says, and I turn at the sound of metal clicking shut. The chest is closed and latched.
“We’d better hurry,” I tell them. “Andarna smells other dragons, which means the other sections might be closing in on us.”
“I’m not losing this pass.” Visia trades Cat, taking the chest and returning the torch. “It will give me time to fly home and convince my cousins to leave the border if my aunt and uncle won’t.”
“You’re going to fly into Navarre?” Sloane damn near shouts.
“It’s right on the border. They won’t even know.” Visia adjusts her grip on the chest and hurries past Andarna. “So let’s get out of here.”