Chapter 40

Ursula sat on the platform in Bael’s chambers, her feet dangling over the abyss. She’d spent the last hour healing the remnants of Bael’s force, and fatigue burned through her limbs—even if there hadn’t been many people left to heal. Seventeen, in fact, if she included everyone. Less than ten if she included those still capable of fighting.

Her head throbbed.

She tried not to think of the oneiroi who’d died. A woman with short silver hair—one who’d eaten mushroom stew in Bael’s living room just the day before—had bled out in the first few minutes after they’d sealed themselves in. Two of the dead oneiroi now staining the floor with blood looked like they’d only just gone through puberty.

But worst of all, Cera and Zee weren’t here, and Ursula wouldn’t allow herself to imagine the worst. She refused to believe they were among the dead out there.

She sat at the edge of Bael’s stalagmite platform, staring into its impenetrable darkness, until she felt Bael’s powerful arm wrap around her. His soothing, briny, sandalwood scent enveloped her body, making her muscles relax.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

“I just wish we could look for Cera and Zee. I hate sitting here.”

“Zee’s glamouring powers are formidable,” he said. “I have faith in her ability to disguise herself and Cera well enough that they’d go unnoticed.”

“True.” She leaned against his shoulder, somewhat reassured.

“Sir,” said a quiet voice. A young oneiroi stood next to them. It was difficult to judge an oneiroi’s age, but on a human scale, she’d have pegged him as fifteen at best. The boy cleared his throat. “We have a problem in the tunnel.”

“They cannot move the stone. The ancient oneiroi glyphs prevent it.”

“It’s not the stone. It’s the cliff face itself. They’re digging into it.”

Ursula’s blood turned to ice. They had no army left. And what the hell had happened to Lucius and her grandfather’s reinforcements?

Bael stood, cursing under his breath, and Ursula pushed herself up beside him.

Following him, she walked over the stone bridge that spanned the void, then crossed into the tunnel. The sound of digging echoed through the tunnel even before they reached the stone—a heavy slamming sound, like a jackhammer banging in slow motion.

“Any idea what they’re using to make that noise?” asked Ursula.

Bael shook his head. “I don’t know, but it sounds big. I don’t think the oneiroi are wielding it.”

Ursula’s mind raced through possibilities. “Maybe Abrax conjured a giant golem.”

“Maybe.” Bael crouched in the tunnel, a sword in one hand and an orb floating just above the other. “Whatever it is, it can’t get in. The wards on this place are too strong.”

As if on cue, the hammering sound stopped. The tunnel fell silent, with only the sound of their breath and the beating of their hearts. The onyx stone glimmered in the darkness.

Dread rippled up Ursula’s spine. “Something’s happening.” Slowly, she approached the stone. The air around it flickered and shimmered like sand under a desert sun. She could feel heat on her face.

“Bael. We need to move the boulder.”

“What are you talking about.?”

Ursula pressed her hands against the stone. Though the stone was black as a starless sky, putting her hands against it felt like touching Emerazel’s inferno. She pushed, and slowly it rolled to the side. Fire licked around its edges, smoke billowing.

“It’s me, Ursula!” she shouted.

The flames died down, and when the smoke cleared, she stared at the reptilian head of the Drake.