Turning to him, crimson magic sparked around my hand. “Excuse me?” I snapped.
The guard’s face paled until he was as white as the snow falling from the sky, and his wings snapped behind him. “My deepest apologies, Your Majesty, but the map… we can’t find it.”
My nostrils flared, and red edged my vision. I breathed heavily, tasting smoke. “If it’s not here, then where is it?”
How was I supposed to get the Gilded Amulet if I couldn’t even find the map?
“I-I-I don’t know,” Ranor said. “Perhaps there is someone else who has it?”
I shook my head. “Who else could there be? The only other person who was here after the village burned was…”
A sudden realization slammed into me, stealing my breath along with my words. I clenched my fists at my side, and within me, the beast roared in anger. Forcing myself to take three deep breaths, my nails bit into the skin of my palm as I tilted my head and met Ranor’s gaze. “I know who has the map.”
The Winged Soldier gulped. “Who?”
“My brother.”
Ranor gaped at me, but I did not have time for his masculine foolishness. Dropping my robe to the ground, I shifted. Taking to the air, I turned to the north. I let Elyxander go once—I would not make that mistake again. He stole what was mine, and for that, death was his only recompense.
The First Trial
RYLLAE
Light was nothing but a distant dream. Profound darkness surrounded me on all sides, and it was as though every candle in the world had been snuffed out. One moment, Daegal and I were standing on the white bridge, and the next, I was hurtling through a void, where blackness was my new reality. Scream after scream escaped my throat. A gust of wind as cold as a blizzard tore at my clothes, and my stomach lurched as I fell faster and faster.
“Daegal!” I called my bonded mate’s name repeatedly, my voice getting lost in the air. My mating mark burned on my arm, and my chest ached. “Where are you?”
The whooshing wind in my ears took on a mocking tone as I yelled for him. I just found my mate—I refused to lose him now. My fingers flailed at my sides as I reached for something to grab onto.
There was nothing there.
My heart was like a galloping horse, and my lungs felt too tight as I breathed in the sulfuric air. This couldn’t be the way it ended. I didn’t suffer two and a half centuries in prison forthis. One night with my bonded mate was not enough. I refused to let that be all we got.
Flexing my fingers, I reached into the well of magic within me. Red ribbons slipped from my palms, providing much needed glimpses of rocks on all sides.
At least now there was something to aim for. Flinging out my arms, I scrambled for purchase. Sharp, bumpy stones cut into my skin. My hands burned as I grappled for a handhold. The musty smell of damp earth mixed with the sulfuric scent in the air, leaving bitter traces on my tongue.
In a desperate attempt to see my surroundings, I threw red magic around me. The tunnel lit up briefly, and a ragged sob escaped me at the sight of a rock jutting from the wall lower down. I reached for it, barely holding in a scream as it sliced into my palm. My skin split, and blood poured from the wound.
Still, it slowed my fall. Hanging onto the wall, tears pricked at my eyes.
“Stay strong, Ryllae,” I told myself, tightening my painful grip.
Let go, weakling, my father’s voice taunted in my mind.
“Go away,” I snarled. “You’re dead.”
An angry laugh was the only reply as it echoed through my head.
I screamed. “Get out! Leave me alone!”
I could not let him win. Those tears threatened to fall, to push me over the ledge to the pit of insanity, but I refused their call.
I was stronger than this.
“You can do this,” I said through gritted teeth, forcing the tears away.
The Ryllae who had been in Nightstone Prison would have let the tears come. She would have fallen to her death, grateful for the reprieve from her horrible life. She would have let her father win.