And on the other side, there was nothing but death.
Death and tombs.
Marius shivered, stepping closer to his bodyguard.
There were twelve stone coffins in total. Each stood at least ten feet tall, and they were equally spaced within the clearing, forming a rough circle. They were spread apart, roughly two dozen feet between each one. The stones were so white that they were almost blinding. Thick layers of translucent ice coated each tomb, except…
“Isvana help us all,” Vivienne breathed.
Marius echoed her sentiment. This was far worse than what he’d expected.
Holding her sword in front of her, Vivienne stepped into the circle of death. Marius followed close behind.
At this moment, he was grateful for his sister’s overprotectiveness. He couldn’t imagine being here alone.
They reached the middle of the circle and faced the twelfth tomb.
A jagged fissure ran through the surface, leaving a gap large enough for a body, and inside…
“It’s empty,” he breathed, hardly able to believe what was right in front of him.
He blinked, but the sight remained the same.
Knowing that a First had escaped their tomb was one thing, but seeing it in person was another entirely.
His stomach twisted in knots.
Oh, gods.
He wasn’t sure how long they stood staring at the empty tomb. It could have been minutes or hours. Time warped in this strange, unnatural place.
Vivienne turned around. Her jaw feathered, and her wings twitched. “We should leave.”
Marius’s brows furrowed. “Leave? We just got here.”
This place was dark and unnatural, and strange magic was present, but they still needed to find the First.
She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“Danger resides in this place,” she hissed.
Obviously. That was like pointing out that the moon was silver or that the waters of the Black Sea were inky.
“I know.” He gestured to the tombs. “But this is exactly what we came for.”
Skirting around his bodyguard, he approached the shattered tomb. The sensation of wading through sand returned, and his skin crawled with old magic.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
His Fortune Elf side urged him to leave, but he refused to heed its call. He wouldn’t run away after everything he’d gone through to get here.
“Prince,” Vivienne whisper-yelled, grabbing his arm.
He twisted out of her grasp, and she cursed.
“I just need to see it,” he explained.
The scent of death grew stronger with every step, as if it originated from the twelve tombs.