Page 125 of A Trial of the Heart

My archery skills were put to the test during our final bouts of training. We practiced with a mirror attached to the tip of my bow, allowing me to scan the area in the reflection behind me to find my target before spinning around with my eyes closed. The first few attempts were a joke, but I wasn’t allowed to quit—nor would I.

Eventually, I figured out how to execute my blind shot. Daxton ended up crafting a small shard of mirrored glass molded into the horizontal hilt of a dagger strapped to his hip.

The archway of rocks was striking, contrasting beautifully with the surrounding Southern Sea Cliffs and framing a fifteen-foot-wide opening hidden from the viewpoint atop the cliffs. As we approached the entrance, the key on my chest seemed to hum with power, and a dark veil lifted, allowing me to gaze inside the cavern.

“Can you see inside?” Daxton asked.

“Of course,” I countered. “You can’t?”

He laughed despite himself. “High Fae cannot see in the dark, my love.”

I almost forgot he couldn’t. After having the ability to see in the dark since I was a child, it was practically second nature.

“Well, that means you can keep your eyes closed. That increases your odds of getting out of here alive.”

During our training, Daxton had been working on relying on his other senses while fighting, often sparring with Castor and Gunnar with a blindfold covering his face.

“Our odds,” he corrected. “Remember, where you go, I go.”

“I remember.” I smiled, reaching for the small rope at my hip and tying it around our waists. “Don’t wander.”

“Never,” he answered, but the look in his eyes was not as convincing.

As we stepped inside the entrance, Daxton paused. “What is it?” I whispered.

“The entrance is warded with ancient, powerful magic. I can’t teleport us out, only within.”

“Good to know,” I replied, understanding we had no immediate escape route. “Let’s keep moving. Castor said he only lingered in the entrance and down the first turn. Through my research on snakes, I know they have a den in the middle of their tunnel system, which should be larger than the passageways.”

“Ever the clever student, Spitfire,” he said with pride. “Keep your shield up and guard your scent. We might have the element of surprise if we can enter the den undetected.”

I nodded as we crept through the tunnel, the hairs on my neck standing straight as we lost the final rays of sunlight from the mouth of the arched entrance. My animal was on high alert, and instinct drove me to utilize all my senses to try and safely navigate us through. I couldn’t quite place the looming threat that felt like a shadow following us, but I knew it was there. Lurking and waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Silently, we walked through the underground maze. Daxton’s footsteps were soft, following in perfect sync with mine only a few paces behind. The echoes of dripping water from the various crevasses and overhangs combined with the ocean’s crashing waves were the only sounds in the cave. It created a disturbing melody, paired with the growing stench of decay and death the further we crept into the caves. Everything about this place screamed to turn around and run away, but still, we continued.

Rocks to our left buckled and broke away from the surrounding wall, causing us to halt and draw our weapons toward the invisible threat.Silence. Nothing.

“The saltwater must weaken the structure of the cave,” I whispered. “I don’t think anything is there. I don’t smell or see anything.”

Daxton remained utterly still. Not even his chest rose and fell with his silent breathing. His eyes were useless this far into the creature’s lair, relying solely on my touch and his keen hearing.

“Or something was there and is no longer.”

“That area isn’t large enough to house the basilisk,” I countered.

“You sure?”

No, I wasn’t, but that didn’t mean I had to say it aloud. “The air seems warmer than before. Doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Daxton said, feeling his hand along the basalt rock wall before leaning his back against it. “Does that help us navigate this tunnel of death?”

“In a sense,” I answered, reaching for my canteen before handing it to him. “The basilisk is aserpentking. So, I imagine he has similar physical needs or traits as any other normal reptile.”

“Meaning?” he asked, taking a sip.

“They are cold-blooded creatures.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that. We don’t know if he will take that as an insult or compliment.” I rolled my eyes at Daxton, giving him a stern look. “I can’t see you, but I know exactly what face you’re making right now.”

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