21. Morgan

The morning lightfilters through the hostel’s dining room window, casting a soft glow on the table between me and Blaze, making his eyes shine brighter as he sips his coffee.

I grab the last muffin from the plate, taking a piece for myself and sliding the rest across to him.

He places the cup down, smirking as he accepts the offering. “You sure you don’t want more of that?” he asks.

I roll my eyes, playing along. “Just making sure you’re well-fed before we leave. Wouldn’t want you fainting on me midway through our quest.”

He chuckles, taking a bite and savoring it. “The Valley of the Vanished,” he says, gazing out the window before returning his attention to me. “I don’t know if it could get more ominous than that.”

“Sure it could.” I sip my tea, contemplating the possibilities. “The Valley of Nightmares. The Valley of Death. The Valley of Echoing Despair…”

His laughter lingers in the air, lightening the mood. “When you put it like that, our little adventure sounds like a relaxing vacation.”

Our conversation shifts to the practical as we finish our breakfast, leave the hostel, and stop by some stores to buy a few things we’ll need on our journey. The sun is high by the time we’re ready to leave, and once outside the town, we adjust our packs and set a steady pace toward the mountains.

The path is well-trodden at first. But eventually, civilization’s marks fade, and the wild starts to reclaim its territory.

As we navigate through the increasingly rugged terrain, Blaze breaks the silence that’s settled between us.

“You know, it would be a whole lot easier if you could just fire travel us directly to that quill,” he says. “Imagine the time we’d save.”

“You know I can’t bring someone with me,” I remind him, hopping over a fallen tree trunk. “I only know one person who can.”

Hazel.

But I, of course, haven’t told him anything about her.

“And who’s that?” he asks.

“Doesn’t matter.” I shrug, hoping he’ll drop it. “Anyway, I also can’t travel through realms. I’m not sure anyone can.”

He studies me, as if he wants to press further. Luckily, he doesn’t.

I’m glad of it. Because I don’t want to lie to him.

Not when I’m already keeping so much from him.

I can’t bring myself to look at him as we continue walking. But eventually, the path narrows, and the air shifts, cooler and denser.

We turn a corner and stop in our tracks.

Because there it is.

A bridge as rickety and ancient as promised in the book, its wooden planks weathered by time. Its lack of railings make it look scarily easy to fall into the river rushing below, but it’s not the bridge that stops us.

It’s the monster blocking the bridge’s entrance.

Terror—and doubt—falls on me as I take in the sight of the hideous creature.

He stands twice our size, his earthy skin scarred and mottled, and his eyes glow with fierce intelligence, despite his tattered clothing.

He grins at us with long, sharp teeth that look capable of tearing through armor and flesh alike, and I take a step back.

Last night, Blaze told me about a creature that guards bridges. We anticipated the possibility of facing one here.

A kobold.

“They’re neither good nor evil,” he explained. “But they’re fond of riddles and tricks, and they’re fiercely protective of their domain.”

The monster before us bears no resemblance to the playful sprites of fairy tales.

He’s evil. Pure, bone-chillingly evil. Like a giant troll from Hell.

I glance at Blaze, searching his face for any sign of the confidence he always wears like armor. But his eyes, usually so full of fire and determination, hold a hint of uncertainty.

At the thought of fire, I reach inside myself for my magic. As usual, it warms my soul, its flames ready to surface in a moment’s notice.

But I rein it in. So far, this monster isn’t attacking. Provoking him might not be the best move.

Still, I’m ready, just in case.

From the way Blaze widens his stance, grounding himself, he’s on the same page as me.

The monster stares at us, appearing to be waiting for us to speak first.

“You’re a kobold?” Blaze sounds unfazed, even though this monster could likely shred us to ribbons with a slash of his claws.

The monster releases a low, gravelly chuckle that seems to resonate from the depths of the earth itself.

“Yes, I am the Kobold. The guardian of this path,” he says. “Many have tried to cross, and few have succeeded. Those who do never return the same.”

His words suck all the air from my lungs, and I swallow hard, as if I can push down the fear.

It doesn’t work.

Blaze shifts beside me, and I can feel the heat of his fire as he gathers it inside himself.

“What do you want from us?” he asks.

The Kobold tilts his head, considering.

“A simple trade,” he finally says. “Answer my riddle correctly, and I’ll grant you safe passage. Fail, and well...” He lets the threat hang in the air, his grin widening to reveal those sharp, menacing teeth again.

The forest animals quiet, the tension in the air thickening. I can feel Blaze’s energy, coiled and ready to strike—but physical strength isn’t the right way to approach this battle.

Luckily, he seems to know that as well, since he makes no move to attack.

“Tell us your riddle.” I lift my head and stare straight up into the monster’s beady glowing eyes, stepping forward slightly.

I have no idea where I’m drawing this confidence from, but it feels like a better approach than trembling in terror.

The Kobold nods, seemingly pleased. “Very well,” he begins, his voice taking on a rhythmic quality that feels almost enchanting. “I watch over the land, both day and night, never moving, standing tall with might. In daylight, I touch the sky; under the moon, shadows lie. What am I?”

Blaze and I stand in silence, the riddle echoing in the space between us and the Kobold, who’s watching us with an expectant gleam in his eyes.

I’m terrible at riddles. Back in the subway—the Minotaur’s Labyrinth—we had to solve that riddle in the train, and let’s just say that I didn’t carry the team with that one.

I could try using blood magic to scry for the answer. But I’m pretty sure the Kobold would accuse me of cheating.

I do not want to make this monster angry by cheating.

There’s also the fact that I’ve never been able to scry for anything that specific.

On top of all that, it would involve revealing my secret to Blaze.

Looks like we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way—with some good, solid brainstorming.

“What are you thinking?” Blaze asks me.

I still, frozen in place. There’s no way I’m telling him anything that just went through my head.

“The riddle?” he prods. “It looks like you’re thinking hard about it.”

Right. Of course he thought I was thinking about the riddle, and not about the consequences of using blood magic to scry for the answer.

“I’m terrible at riddles,” I admit. “What do you think it is?”

The Kobold looks back and forth between us, his lips curled up in amusement.

“Five minutes,” the monster says.

“You didn’t say there was a time limit,” I snap.

A low growl rumbles from his throat. “I’m telling you now,” he says. “I don’t have all day here.”

Given that his only job seems to be guarding this bridge, he likely does have all day. But I hold myself back from saying it. No point in poking the beast.

At least, not right now.

I return my attention to Blaze, whose brow is furrowed in so much concentration that I can practically see the gears moving in his head.

“It’s something that touches the sky, right? Standing tall with might...” He trails off, and then, his eyes light up. “A lighthouse? They stand tall, they don’t move, they guide ships at night...”

I bite my lip, skeptical, but not wanting to dismiss his idea. “A lighthouse doesn’t really ‘watch over the land,’ does it?” I ask, although it’s better than any idea I’ve thought of—since I haven’t thought of any ideas at all. “It’s more for the sea.”

He scratches the back of his neck, a sheepish grin replacing his momentary confidence. “Good point,” he says. “I was thinking about the light part, but yeah, you’re probably right.”

There’s a pause, and the Kobold’s chuckle cuts through the silence, reminding us of the ticking clock.

My mind races, trying to think outside the box—or outside the lighthouse, in this case.

“Maybe it’s something bigger, like... clouds?” I guess.

“Clouds?” Blaze raises an eyebrow, his skepticism obvious. “Clouds move all over the place. They’re not exactly known for staying still.”

“Right.” I shrug, silently chastising myself for the wild—and admittedly terrible—guess. “I told you I’m bad at this.”

“We’ve got this,” he says, and while he’s trying to sound encouraging, I can totally hear his doubt coming through. “We just have to think.”

The Kobold’s laughter grows louder. “Two minutes,” he says, and my heart races at the realization of how quickly time is slipping away.

Blaze closes his eyes, as if he can block out the Kobold’s presence by centering himself.

When he opens them again, there’s a new clarity. A focus that wasn’t there before.

“What?” I lean forward, bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet, praying he’s figured this out.

“A tree,” he says. “It has to be a tree. They stand tall, they touch the sky, they’re always there, and their shadows move with the moon.”

“It makes sense,” I say slowly.

“Thirty seconds,” the Kobold says, his voice booming through the forest.

I face him and steady myself, praying Blaze’s answer is correct.

“A tree,” I say quickly. “Our answer is a tree.”

The second the words are out of my mouth, I hold my breath, waiting for the verdict.

The monster regards us for a long, tense moment.

Then, slowly, he shakes its head. “No,” he says, and the word falls between us like a stone. “The answer is not a tree. It’s a mountain. Always watching, never moving, touching the sky by day, and casting long shadows by night.”

Wrong.

We were wrong.

My heart pounds against my ribcage. Not just from fear, but also from a surge of adrenaline.

What’s going to happen now?

The Kobold chuckles, a sound that echoes through the forest and bounces off the trees—which do not touch the sky—and eventually settles heavily in my stomach. “So brave, yet so unprepared,” he taunts, and he steps forward, the ground shaking with his movement.

Summoning my magic, I welcome the warmth dancing at my fingertips. It’s a comforting sensation. One that reminds me I’m not defenseless.

Beside me, Blaze does the same.

And then, with a single glance, we brace ourselves for attack.