Page 128 of A Trial of the Heart

“Good place to start,” I said, hearing the distinct sound of a very large body moving behind us.

I readied my bow, placing an arrow along the string and angling the mirror over my shoulder, meticulously watching the opposing side of the opening through slits in the outer walls. My stomach leaped into my throat as the black rocks behind us moved. Thebasilisk was on the other side of the very thin, slitted rock wall.

“He’s here,” I whispered.

“I can hear him,” Daxton said, cautiously moving a few paces from me so I had enough room to turn and fire an arrow—just like we’d practiced.

A massive jaw with elongated sharp teeth gleamed through one of the openings in the mirror’s reflection. Saliva dripped from the rows of ivory fangs, and the putrid smell of death flooded the small space between us.

Clever trick,its tongue hissed.

After cutting the rope, I remained still, watching and waiting for an opening.

The basilisk’s body slithered as a large yellow eye filled the opening, directly aimed at me.

“Ahhhhh!” I screamed. Not out of fear but sheer blinding agony.

Every inch of my skin exploded with fire. I could have sworn a thousand blades were cutting through my flesh. My bones ached, and my blood felt like it was boiling. I tried to look away, but I was paralyzed. The golden-yellow eye with the black eight-pointed starred pupil stared at me in the reflection of the mirror. Its magical gaze didn’t kill me but made me wish for death if it meant this pain would stop.

“Skylar!” Daxton roared with panic and fury swirling in his voice.

“The mirror…” I could barely hear myself speak. The internal torment of my body swallowed my voice. My vision blurred, but I couldn’t move my arms nor look away from the basilisk’s stare.

Thank the Gods above, Daxton heard my whimper. He lunged forward, feeling his way through the dark, and smashed the mirror on the end of my bow.

My animal roared inside my head, splitting it in two with a rush of power exploding through me. If I didn’t have the champion’s mark, I guarantee I would have shifted right then and there.

“Skylar!” Daxton gripped my shoulders, cradling my limp body in his arms. “We need to move. Now.” My body was in shock. I was disoriented, my vision a blur of white stars. “I guess it’s my turn to lead the way, then.”

He looped one of my arms over his shoulder, grabbing my waist with the other and leading us forward, trying to encourage me to move my legs and regain feeling in my limbs.

Niccceee idea. But poor exxecccution. Luckily, your sssnack was able to dessssstroy that mirror. The reflection of my sssstare may not be powerful enough to kill you, but it will make you wisssh for death.

“No shit.” I gritted my teeth, trying to push through each agonizing step.

“Is the basilisk speaking to you again?” Daxton asked. I nodded. “I can’t hear anything besides a low hissing sound.”

“Trust me. I wish I could too. How are you managing to navigate this place, Dax?”

“My eyes are slowly adjusting, and there seems to be a light from up ahead. I followed the opening with the warmer rocks as a guide.”

I managed to crack open my eyes, and my vision slowly returned. “The magma chamber.”

“Seems we’ve found its den.”

As we reached the end of the tunnel, a large open area the basilisk undoubtedly called home came into view. The nest housed bubbling pools of molten magma along the edges, heating the space to an almost intolerable temperature. The light from the free-flowingmolten rock illuminated the underground fortress, with jagged spikes along the floor and ceiling, stalagmites and stalactites meeting at the corners.

Molted black and green skin lay on the far side, along with a worn, smooth patch of heated stones in a circle formation. This was the nest—the den of the serpent king.

“Well, at least you can see now. But I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”

“Are you hurt?” Daxton set me down on a nearby boulder, meticulously looking me over for any sign of injury.

“No, I’m just recovering.” I grimaced. “By the way, don’t use your mirror.”

“Clearly,” he replied, taking my face in his hands. His gray stare was unbreakable and full of concern. “You’re not allowed to die on me, Spitfire. Besides … Castor will be a terrible ruler just to spite our deaths.”

I huffed a half-laugh. “No pressure, then.”

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