She woke up late. Falling asleep had been difficult for her, something unusual, but nerves had kept her awake for hours. In the end, exhaustion won the battle, and she finally managed to rest. When she opened her eyes, sunlight was already streaming through the house's windows. She was alone; it seems that everyone else had already risen. She went downstairs to the living room, where her mother had already set the table: a large pitcher full of milk, a tray of pastries, and a bowl of wild berries. There was also the small piece of cheese that had accompanied them throughout their journey. And some hard bread that could be eaten if toasted a little and with some spread. Butter, perhaps. Too bad they didn’t have any.

It must have taken her mother quite some time to prepare all this. “Perhaps she didn't even go to bed”, Zari thought. She wouldn’t have been surprised. The revelation her mother had made yesterday, coupled with Lysa’s reaction, had left the poor woman slumped in the rocking chair, unwilling to speak and staring blankly into nothingness.

As Zari devoured some dry pastries and sipped milk from a cup without much decorum, she heard voices outside. She walked over to the window to see what was happening, wondering where her mother had gotten the milk. She doubted it was through some sort of transmutation magic—it wasn’t the way of spellcasters. Soon enough, she found the answer.

Outside was her mother, surrounded by a small herd of goats, and beside her, sitting on a stool, was Rendel. It seemed the woman was teaching him how to milk. Zari smiled. It finally seemed as if her mother was beginning to accept the boy. The fresh morning air slipped in through the window, giving her goosebumps and fully waking her up. She closed the shutters to keep out the chill, though she was startled by the creak of wood behind her. The smile vanished from her lips when she saw Lysa collapse into a chair. She looked disheveled, her eyes red, and dark circles under them. She had been crying again, no doubt. She looked tired and solemn. She didn’t say anything, just sat there, staring at the empty bowl. Sadness and fatigue seemed to have consumed her.

The last one to come down was Alaric. He took long strides with his usual gangly and nonchalant air, yawning and stretching without a hint of shame. Upon seeing them, he tried to compose himself and show some semblance of courtesy.

“Good morning,” he greeted, clearing his throat. “I hope you slept well.”

“Good morning, Alaric,” she replied with a half-smile. “I’ve had better nights, but I can’t complain.”

After that, Zari nodded towards Lysandra. Alaric looked at her, made a gesture of understanding, and without a word, filled her bowl with milk before serving himself.

“Look, I brought more milk,” Rendel said, appearing at that moment in the doorway, carrying the pitcher as if it were a trophy.

“You can’t drink it like that, it needs to be boiled first. Otherwise, you’ll get sick,” Zari replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I know that. I’m not that dumb. Just because I was raised in the city doesn’t mean I don’t know these things.”

“But you’ve never milked a goat before, have you?”

“No, not a goat or anything else. Besides, in the city, what was I supposed to milk, rats?” he joked, provoking involuntary laughter from her and Alaric. Zari even thought she saw her sister smirk slightly, for just a brief moment.

“What a goofball… Come on, sit down and eat; I’ll take care of boiling the milk.”

Edel entered after him, casting a worried glance at her daughters. Without saying a word, she headed to the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, Zari,” the old woman said softly, taking the pitcher in her hands. “Leave it to me. I’ll make some curd, so it lasts a bit longer.”

Alaric, who had been silently observing until then, interrupted with a more serious tone:

“I don’t want to ruin anyone’s breakfast, but we need to think about heading to the temple. We only have four days. Three and a half, actually. How far are we from it?”

“If we were traveling on flat terrain, we’d get there in a day without any trouble. But on this terrain, it’ll take twice, if not three times as long,” Edel replied as she moved towards the kitchen.

“We’re cutting it too close, then. We should leave today.”

“Don’t worry. We have time. We’re not going to take the mountain paths.”

“What do you mean?”

Edel stopped and turned to him, holding the pitcher of milk against her chest with both arms.

“You should know that this house isn’t here by accident. It’s been the home of the Guardians for hundreds of years. In fact, it’s the entrance to a system of caves that runs beneath the Horn from one side to the other. There’s a path that leads directly to the Bare Valley, where the temple is. As I said, we’ll get there in a day.”

“A whole day underground?” Alaric asked, suspicious.

“Yes. Down there, it’s an entire labyrinth of caves and caverns that even open and close with the tides, as the deepest ones get flooded by seawater. But don’t worry, we don’t need to go that far down. I know the way well. I haven’t been through it in many years, but it’s not complicated.”

“Well, in that case, we can gather our strength and prepare as needed. Resting a bit wouldn’t hurt us. But I don’t want to delay too much. I’d like to get there before the Count does, to study the terrain.”

“They’ll take almost the remaining three days on foot and horseback over the surface. If we leave tomorrow, we’ll have more than a day to spare.”

“Very well, then. Let’s use the time to prepare,” Alaric said, turning to Rendel. “Wart, you know what to do. Make sure everything is ready for us to leave at dawn tomorrow.” The boy nodded solemnly.

The rest of the day was spent busy with preparations. Alaric was mending his worn leather jerkin, sharpening his sword, and going through his gear. All those tools that thieves used in their trade. Ropes, hooks, grapnels, lockpicks, and other items Zari couldn’t recognize. Rendel helped him, and also sharpened his daggers, practicing throwing them at a straw bale he used as a target. After noticing Zari’s interest, he began to play with them, tossing all in the air and catching them like a juggler.

“Would you like me to teach you how to throw a dagger?” he asked, balancing one on his finger.

“I don’t know; it looks dangerous.”

“Well, it is if you’re the target. Although if someone’s really clumsy, they could end up stabbing themselves.”

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“I’m not clumsy. Come on, let me try. What do I need to do?”

“No, not like that. You hold it by the tip. Then, stretch out your arm and flick your wrist to make it spin in the air.”

“Like this?” Zari threw the dagger forcefully at the straw pile, but with such poor aim that it landed at the feet of a goat that happened to be passing by. The poor animal bleated pitifully and jumped away with a couple of awkward hops, causing the rest of the herd to scatter with a chorus of bleats.

“Well, I think you need a bit of practice. Or a lot, actually,” the boy said, laughing openly.

“I see, smartass. I don’t need to practice if I can do this.”

Zari closed her eyes for a moment, and the dagger lying inert on the ground began to float slowly toward them, spinning in an absurd dance. Rendel smiled nervously. She returned him an amused and mischievous look, raising an eyebrow and standing with her hands on her hips.

“What now, Mr. Dagger Master?”

“Zarinia!” Edel’s shout startled Zari, causing the dagger to drop heavily to the ground. “I’ve told you a thousand times that the Power is not for playing around. It should never be used for showing off. Using the Power always…”

“Comes at a cost,” Lysandra finished coldly. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the scene with a serious expression. After a moment, she turned and went back inside.

Zari approached her mother, who was looking sadly toward the door, and took her hand.

“She’ll get over it. I know she loves you. She just needs time to sort things out.”

“I don’t know, darling. I feel like I lost a bit of both of you yesterday. But Lysa… I have no right to ask for her forgiveness, but I’d be content if she just spoke to me again, at least.”

“What she said about not being the true heir…”

“It doesn’t matter. She said it in a moment of anger and confusion; I understand that. But I want you to know something, Zari. No one is a Guardian until they inherit the amulet—it’s not a matter of blood. She knows that and is perfectly prepared to take on the title. I trust that when the time comes, she’ll step up.”

“She will. And if not, you have me.”

“I know, sweetheart,” her mother replied, embracing her tightly and kissing her forehead. “And I’m aware that, if necessary, you’d do just as well as your sister. But I also know that your spirit is wilder and more joyful than hers. You wouldn’t be happy being bound to the amulet.”

Zari kissed her mother on the cheek and returned to the house, pondering what she had just been told. She had always believed that Lysa would inherit the pendant and the responsibility that came with it. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t like the idea of that burden possibly falling on her shoulders.

During lunch, Lysa didn’t come down to eat with the others. However, in the afternoon, it gave her some comfort to see her sister walking with Alaric near the ancient pine tree. At least she was talking to someone. And she did decide to come down for dinner, though she didn’t utter a word.

That night, they needed to rest, as they would be entering the caves the following morning. But Zari still struggled to fall asleep. It would be a full day’s journey through the darkness. It wasn’t something she was particularly thrilled about. In fact, she was quite nervous. Very nervous, to be honest. She didn’t like enclosed spaces—tight, humid, dark, filled with long-legged spiders, bats, rats, and other creatures better left unknown.

“What am I so afraid of?” she asked herself, tossing and turning in bed. She had faced armed men, stared death in the face. These were just dark tunnels. Besides, she already knew a small part of them. When they were children, she and Lysa had ventured down there on their own as soon as her sister learned the password, ignoring their mother’s warnings and prohibitions. And when they got caught, they received a severe scolding and a good punishment. She trusted that Edel remembered the path well, because if they got lost… well, no one would ever find their remains down there. She closed her eyes tightly, forcing herself not to think about it, trying to sleep at last.

The next morning, her mother woke everyone up quite early. Too early. Even the dawn seemed to complain about the good woman’s haste. They had a light breakfast, and then secured all the windows and doors of the house. They left the horses loose outside, though they set up some boards at the entrance between the rocks to keep them within the perimeter. As long as they stayed there, they’d be safe. As for Mr. Clawsy, they weren’t too worried. The old cat could fend for himself and find his own food.

They divided up the gear, though the men carried the heavier items. They had insisted. And the women didn’t argue too much. They brought a good supply of torches, waterskins, and provisions. “Too much, it seems, for the time it will take us to reach the temple. And to come back, of course. If we’re lucky,” Zari thought. Suddenly, she became aware that they might not return, that this could be a one-way trip. She hadn’t really thought about it before. Just what she needed at that moment to calm her nerves.

Once they were ready, they descended the narrow stone staircase connecting the main floor of the house to the basement. The air down there was heavy, with a faint smell of dampness. In front of them stood a heavy wooden gate reinforced with iron bars. And to one side, a pile of metal lead bars. Zari noticed Rendel looking curiously at the metal, and leaned close to him to whisper in his ear:

“Someday I'll tell you what it's all for. But now, pay attention, this one is a real magic door.”

“Does it have a password?” the boy asked, intrigued.

“Something like that…”

Edel raised her hands and recited a few words that echoed deeply through the room. It didn’t even seem like they came from her, as if the very stones were speaking. The gate creaked and moved slightly. For a moment, it looked as if it wouldn’t move any further, but then it slowly began to turn on its own, creaking loudly. It was clear that opening it quietly or discreetly was impossible. A gust of stale, salty air hit them in the face. They lit the torches, and at a word from her mother, the house’s lamps extinguished simultaneously, leaving them in dim light.

“Enter without fear,” Edel said, crossing the threshold and motioning for them to follow. “The first section of the caverns has been carved over generations and is smooth and safe. Beyond that, things get a bit more complicated, but not too much.”

Zari swallowed hard. The flickering light of the torches didn’t provide much comfort. As soon as they passed through the door, they found themselves in a wide, semicircular room with walls decorated with columns carved directly from the rock. They served no purpose, but they were beautiful. Once everyone was inside, Edel recited a few more words, and the gate closed behind them with a loud thud.

“There’s no turning back now,” Zari whispered to Rendel, imitating a deep, tense voice to scare him. But it wasn’t true. Not entirely, at least. She and her sister also knew the words; any of the three of them could reopen the entrance. It seemed the ruse worked, as the boy looked at her with some concern. Zari turned away to hide her mischievous smile, one she wore to mask her own unease, to be honest.

Edel led the group. Alaric followed, carrying a torch, and right behind him was Lysa. Zari came after her, and bringing up the rear was Rendel, holding another torch. Though they walked in a single file, the carved passage was wide enough for them to walk two by two, had they wished.

Zari remembered this passageway as being much larger than it actually was. She focused on the walls and the dancing shadows they cast on them. As they moved forward, the dark stains of mold became more prominent, and the stone seemed to seep moisture, glistening under the light. Apart from their own footsteps, distant dripping and echoes could be heard, along with a low whistling sound, probably caused by air currents.

After a couple of turns, the ground changed from smooth, worked stone to simple rock, stones, and damp sand. The walls lost their perfectly vertical carvings, and the ceiling took on its natural arched and irregular shape. It was even adorned with some roots that had managed to reach that depth in search of water. The air became denser and hotter with each step. Soon, sweat began to trickle down Zari’s forehead, the sticky heat taking hold of her body, and her dress clung to her skin. “No. I definitely don’t like caves or caverns. Gods, I don’t even like basements,” she thought bitterly.

They reached the first fork in the path. One of the passages seemed to ascend back to the surface. The other, however, appeared to continue downward. Though Zari couldn’t be sure, the torches only illuminated a few feet around them. Beyond that, everything was darkness.

“We need to go down,” her mother said decisively. “The good news is that, for the first half of the journey, we’ll be going downhill. The bad news is that the rest of the way, we’ll have to climb back up to reach the surface again. And I warn you, the slope is steep. The ascent will be exhausting.”

“Exhausting or not, the important thing is to get out of here as soon as possible,” she thought. She felt Rendel take her hand. She glanced at him, and he smiled, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. He seemed to have sensed her nervousness. Zari took a deep breath and squeezed his hand back, grateful for that simple gesture. Yes, everything would be fine. Or at least, she wanted to believe it would be.