Sterling sat at the small desk she’d had brought into her room, flipping through the pages of a very boring book, when someone knocked on her door.
“Come in,” she called over her shoulder.
She could have gotten up to answer it herself since they no longer kept it locked, but she already knew who it was.
“Reading again?” Ren asked when he entered, leaving the door open behind him.
Sterling shrugged and flipped another page. “Mostly looking at the pictures.”
“Well, I have something more exciting for you.”
Sterling shut the book with a thump and shoved it aside before turning to look at him. He wore his customary black robe, twin to her own, and the leather gloves she’d never seen him take off.
“And what will it be today? Taking me to another haunted cave?” She still hadn’t forgotten the room of faces that Ren had told her were real skulls of people who had been trapped in molten rock. She still swore she’d heard someone trying to speak to her when they were there.
“Today, you’re leaving,” he said.
“What?” Sterling jerked upright. “Where am I going? Are you coming with me?”
Ren took a step back, like he was afraid she might launch herself at him and try to claw the answers out.
She had half a mind to if he didn’t start speaking.
“I don’t know where you will be headed next. Your final destination, perhaps.”
Sterling stared at him. He had to know how ominous those words sounded. Was he trying to warn her or prepare her?
“I, however, will not be going with you,” he said.
Whatever this was sounded worse by the second.
“And if I don’t want to go?” she asked.
“It’s not a choice.”
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Seraiah’s heart beat hard in her chest as the four of them crouched around an opening, looking down into the cave. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as the mid-morning sun beat down on them.
All they were here to do right now was get an idea for the mages’ movement patterns. Once they figured out how many might be in the caves and what their schedule looked like, they could find a way to infiltrate.
Kestrel had done some earlier exploring on her own and found the main entrance to the underground cave system, but it was heavily guarded. The mages, however, had left this opening over one of the largest caves unguarded. Either they’d forgotten about it or, more likely, they didn’t think anyone would be dropping in from above.
Their mistake.
For much of the morning, the cave below them had been empty, but now if she squinted hard, Seraiah could make out two shadowy figures below. Their dark robes helped them blend in with the gloom. She recognized those robes as the ones she’d seen the young man and Sterling wearing in her vision.
One of the figures was speaking softly to another, but it was too quiet for the words to reach their ears. The other figure listened for a moment before throwing its hands up in anger or frustration and turned away, moving toward the patch of light that the opening was casting on the cave floor.
Kestrel put her hand on Seraiah’s back and pushed her lower, so her chin scraped the rock. She held a finger to her lips. Any sound they made would be amplified and echo in the cave below them. It would give away their position in an instant.
Seraiah’s attention returned to the scene below them as more figures stepped out of the shadows to join the other two. By her count, there were now six people in the cave below them, and who knows how many more waited out of their sight.
The angry figure still paced below, finally coming to a stop almost directly beneath where they lay watching. The light was enough to give a glimpse of the figure’s profile.
Seraiah felt Kestrel stiffen next to her and knew she had spotted him, too.
Gavaran.
He turned his face away from their view and beckoned to the figures grouped together in the shadows. One of them stepped forward, small and slight, its steps hesitant. When the figure came within reach, Gavaran yanked their hood back.
Seraiah gasped. It was Sterling. Her sister’s silver hair was a beacon in the dark.
Kestrel grabbed the back of Seraiah’s tunic and pulled her back out of sight, but it was too late.
The damage was done.
“Someone is here. Find them,” Gavaran ordered, “or you all will pay for it.”
In seconds, one of the robed figures had a bow pointed at the opening and loosed an arrow.
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Seraiah would swear time slowed down as she watched it find a home in Lonan’s chest. A scream ripped from her throat as a bright bloom of crimson spread across his tunic.
He hadn’t ducked down with the rest of them and paid the price—the price for her mistake.
She could do nothing but watch as the light went out of his eyes, and he toppled over backward. Something broke in her then.
Seraiah freed her dagger and, before anyone could stop her, she was moving.
“Seraiah, no!” she vaguely heard Kai roar at her, but it was too late. She was already scrambling down into the cave. The only thing she could think about was getting her sister back and taking out Lonan’s murderer.
The bowman was now taking aim at her, but no arrows came.
She landed lithely on her feet in front of Gavaran, who had drawn a sword and was backing away from her.
She lifted her dagger to throw, but hesitated a moment as she stared at him.
The whole time the person responsible for taking her sister had been staring her in the face. Everything he’d ever said to her suddenly made sense. No wonder he hadn’t been surprised when he’d heard Sterling was alive—he already knew where she was.
And he’d wanted to keep her all to himself. What Seraiah couldn’t figure out was why.
“Take care of this,” Gavaran barked the order at the other mages, and they came streaming forward.
The bowman, meanwhile, had shifted his aim from her to something behind her—most likely Kai or Kestrel had followed her down into the cave.
Hearing Gavaran speak was enough to jar Seraiah out of her thoughts. She flicked her wrist, sending her dagger sailing at the only non-moving target. A second later, it stuck out of the archer’s shoulder, and his arrow bounced harmlessly off the rock wall.
Seemed all her practicing had paid off. Too bad her aim hadn’t been lethal.
But he would pay, she vowed. He would pay for killing her friend, but for now, finding her sister was more important.
Seraiah searched frantically for Sterling as the other robed figures moved forward to circle around her. With her dagger gone, she had nothing left to defend herself but her fists. She lifted them in front of her face like Kestrel had taught her and prayed they wouldn’t come after her. If any of them had magic, she was in trouble.
One of the figures circling in front of her wielded a staff while the remaining two held swords of their own. Seraiah knew there were more of them at her back, but before she could reposition herself, her eyes landed on her sister behind the staff wielder. Sterling was struggling with another figure, who had taken hold of her elbow and was pulling her out of the fray.
Seraiah lost sight of her for a moment as Kestrel ran up and locked swords with the mage on her right. “Get Sterling and get out,” Kestrel ordered, over her shoulder to Seraiah. “We will hold them off.”
Kai came up on the other side, distracting the mage with the staff, to create a break in the mages’ circle around her. Seraiah darted through the opening, narrowly avoiding the third mage.
Her focus returned to Sterling and saw it was the young man from her vision who had pulled her sister away from the fighting. He’d let go of Sterling and raised his hands.
At first, Seraiah thought he was wearing black gloves, but no, those were his hands. They were black, as if he had dipped them in ink—and it moved beneath his skin.
He closed his eyes as his hands rose, completely oblivious to the fighting around him. Sterling cowered behind him as the ground shook and pieces of rock from the walls rained down on them.
Seraiah could only watch in disbelief as the skulls she’d been so frightened of in her vision peeled themselves out of the walls until an army of skeletons stood around them.
For a moment, the fighting ground to a halt as both sides stopped to take in the new enemy before them.
“A necromancer,” Kai said from somewhere behind her.
Seraiah wasn’t familiar with the term, but she knew Kai had been referring to the young man, for he was now grinning at the army of bones. The sound of more rocks falling drew her attention up toward the place where she had entered the cave.
Lonan was making his way down to join them.
“Impossible,” Seraiah breathed as she stared up at him. He’d been dead. She had watched him die—watched the life leave his eyes.
The arrow still stuck straight out of his chest and as Seraiah watched him, she noticed the odd way he was walking—a sort of shuffling gait she’d never seen him use before.
Then she saw his eyes.
They were blank and unseeing. There was no spark behind them.
This wasn’t Lonan—at least not the Lonan she’d known. When the necromancer had raised the dead, he must have raised all of the dead and that included her friend.
The fighting had resumed, but Seraiah was still rooted to the spot, watching the skeletons, their empty jaws opening and closing. Lonan shuffled up to join the advancing bone army.
The archer she’d thrown her dagger at, Lonan’s murderer, was barreling towards her with the dagger still embedded in his shoulder. He’d lost his bow and now carried the sword of one of his fallen comrades.
Before he could reach her, Kai stepped into his path.
The Elven prince used his sword to take off the man’s head with one quick swipe and retrieved Seraiah’s dagger from his shoulder, wiping it clean on the dead man’s tunic.
Seraiah’s vision swam for a moment at the sight of all the blood. She’d seen more before—been bathed in it when Kai had beheaded that beast in the woods, but somehow this was different—this was human blood.
Swallowing hard, she forced herself to move and dodged around the figure with the staff that Kai had stopped fighting to take on the archer. The mage tried to grab her, but Kai still had her back. He came up behind the staff wielder and brought the hilt of his sword down on the back of the man’s head, sending him sprawling into unconsciousness. His staff rolled away harmlessly.
Kai wordlessly pressed her dagger into her hand, and then turned to take on another enemy holding a sword, but not looking too sure of himself. More robed figures poured into the cave to join the fight.
Then the skeletons joined the melee.
At first, Seraiah thought they were going after Kestrel, but as she watched, they brutally ripped into the robed man Kestrel had been battling. Kestrel backed away, but they seemed to ignore her, moving on to focus on the remaining mages, some of which had taken one look at the bone army and turned tail back the way they had come.
Seraiah’s eyes were drawn again to Lonan, who was descending on one of the other archers. She turned away before she could see the outcome of that fight.
She needed to get to Sterling.
Upon seeing her face, Sterling broke away from the young man who had summoned the dead and ran toward her. Seraiah caught her with open arms, holding her sister tight as Sterling sobbed.
“I thought I would never see you again.”
“I know,” Seraiah said into Sterling’s hair. “I know, but I am here now, and we’re going to get you out of here.”
Over Sterling’s shoulder, Seraiah saw the necromancer make a move toward them. She quickly pushed her sister behind her and palmed her dagger.
“Seraiah,” Kai called out to her in warning.
She turned her head to look his way, distracted, and that was all it took.
Fast as a snake striking, the young man clasped her neck. His fingers were like ice against her skin. When her eyes met his, she found she couldn’t look away, couldn’t move to bring her dagger up, even as Sterling pulled frantically on her other hand.
“Ren!” Sterling screamed, and some part of Seraiah’s brain realized that was the necromancer’s name.
The noise faded around her as he leaned forward, his forehead almost touching hers. He stroked his thumb down the column of her throat.
“Run,” he whispered the single word, and then he let go.