“Yes, by all means, let’s waste our time catering to the whims of a cadet,” Suri calls up from where she walks with Kylynn.
“A cadet who can raise the wards,” Xaden counters.
No pressure.
Shivering, I shove my hands into the pockets of my flight jacket to ward off the chill as the sun sets behind the mountain. Finally, the trail levels out and we approach a set of somber guards who step aside so we can pass, following the gravel path that leads into the mountainside, becoming a man-made canyon open to the sky above.
Mage lights flicker on as we pass through the chasm, and my stomach flutters with nervous energy. No, that’s apprehension. Nope… nervous energy. Whatever it is, I’m glad I skipped dinner.
“We should be using this time to discuss the negotiations with Tecarus, since we’re all here.” Ulices looks pointedly at my brother.
“Missive arrived today. He wants us to come to his aid when called,” Brennan says. “The seaside drifts are to be armed first, and he says he’ll let us bring the luminary back to Aretia—”
“He won’t,” Xaden interrupts.
“—if he can see Vi wield,” Brennan finishes.
“Looks like we need to seek another luminary, because he’ll meet Malek before Violet,” Xaden says in that calm, icy tone he uses when his mind’s made up. “Unless you’re eager to never see your sister again. He’ll keep her as a weapon. You and I both know it.”
“I can talk him out of any thoughts that direction.” Brennan’s jaw ticks.
“If there was another luminary, don’t you think we’d be negotiating for that one?” Kylynn retorts.
“Then offer him a full armory, because Violet isn’t up for negotiation.” Xaden looks back and levels a glare at her.
“I don’t mind going.” Our shoulders brush as the path narrows and the walls of the canyon rise even higher around us. “You need it.”
“I mind it. The answer is no. There is always another way.”
It’s a good thing we’re about to have wards, then. It doesn’t solve our issue with protecting Poromiel, not until we can build extensions like Navarre, but at least everyone here will be safe.
About twenty feet in, the canyon opens into a circular chamber that could easily fit all ten of our dragons, and my eyes are immediately drawn upward, to where a series of runes lead to the sky. “How have I never seen this while flying overhead?”
“Very old, very complicated masking runes.”
The riders in front of us part, and the wardstone comes into view.
My lips part, because… wow.
The shimmering black pillar rises to over twice the height of Xaden and would take all nine of us holding our arms outstretched to surround it. Etched in the very center, at least six feet across, is a series of circles, each fitting within the next and boasting a rune carved in along its path. It’s almost the same pattern as on the pages of Warrick’s journal.
I move toward it, soaking in every detail. “Is it onyx?” I ask Xaden. It’s massive. Too heavy for even a dragon to carry. They had to have carved it in this very chamber.
“We can’t say for certain, but my father thought it was polished iron,” he answers.
Iron rain. My heart jolts. This is really it. We’re about to have wards.
“Let’s get this done.” Ulices’s voice booms through the chamber, echoing off the high stone walls.
“And what are we doing, exactly, to raise the wards?” Bodhi asks, taking my other side as everyone forms a half circle around the stone.
“One second.” I pull Warrick’s journal from the protective leather pouch inside my flight jacket and flip to the translated parchment I left at the passage before glancing up at the stone to compare the drawings. The symbol Warrick drew isn’t identical, but it has the runes in the same positions, so that’s a good sign. “Here we go. ‘And we gathered the six most powerful riders in residence,’” I read from the parchment, “‘and the blood of the six and the one combined and set the stone ablaze in an iron rain.’” I glance around the line. “Six”—I point to the stone—“and the one.”
“You want us to bleed on the wardstone?” Felix asks, his silver brows rising.
“I’m just telling you how Warrick and the First Six did it.” I hold the journal up. “Unless there’s someone here more capable of translating Old Lucerish?”
No one speaks.
“Right.” I dip my chin and study the rest of the translation.
“By our best calculations,” Brennan says, rubbing his hands together to keep warm, “the six most powerful riders currently in Aretia are Xaden, Felix, Suri, Bodhi, Violet, and me.”
“Looks like there’s something to be said for family lines,” Suri notes.
“According to Warrick, the First Six bled their life—” I start.
Every head swivels my direction.
“I don’t think it means to death,” I quickly clarify. “Clearly the six lived on after they constructed Basgiath’s wards.” There’s a definite sigh of relief around me. “With any luck, it’ll be a quick cut across the palm, place our hands on the wardstone, and we should have wards.”
“In an iron rain,” Bodhi says slowly.
Suri draws a knife from her side. “Let’s get this done.”
The six of us move to the wardstone, and I tuck the journal into my flight jacket.
“Anywhere?” Bodhi asks, lowering his own knife to just above his palm.
