“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.”
“Bold choice to go back to Navarre.” Cat jogs to catch up to Visia, lighting the way. “I respect it.”
The effort, the consideration for Visia, thaws a small chunk of my heart toward Cat. Maybe she’s not horrible to everyone…just me.
“It’s the only thing to do,” Visia starts as we approach the fork in the tunnel.
A low growl vibrates the very ground beneath our feet, making all four of us halt, and the hair rises on the back of my neck.
“What the—” Cat starts.
Another growl makes the pebbles around my feet bounce, and a full-grown orange dragon comes around the corner, its back scraping the top of the cave as it snaps its head our direction, glaring at us through its only remaining eye.
