Page 138 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Alaire hated going in blind. But what choice did they have?
She glanced at Dawson, his expression stoic, eyes narrowed as they roved over the cave’s natural arch.
About to step forward, Dawson caught her elbow. From the waistband of his pants, he pulled out her daggers. He folded them into her palms, then pressed a finger to his lips.
Alaire flipped the daggers in hand, gripping the familiar leather hilts.
“I’ll take the left.”
Dawson nodded once, but the warning in his eyes was clear: Stay close. Don’t do anything reckless.
With slow, measured steps, they advanced toward the cave. The decomposed stench grew stronger, assaulting her senses with every step. She held both blades at the ready.
A screech, high and full of terror, sliced through the eerie quiet.
Solflara?
Alaire froze. Beside her, Dawson was taut as a bowstring.
Without thinking, only reacting, she bolted into the cave.
Dawson cursed and sprinted after her, but Alaire didn’t hear him. All she could think of was reaching their celestials as quickly as possible.
As they crossed the cave threshold, an invisible barrier snapped into place behind them, emitting a hazy glow.
“What is that?” she choked out.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be good.” Dawson extended a hand back toward the entrance, but it bounced off the barrier.
Alaire sheathed her daggers and pressed both hands against it. Nothing.
She could clearly see the misty path they’d taken but couldn’t reach it.
“We’re trapped,” Dawson concluded.
The air grew hot and suffocating. Stuck in this cavern with no way out—all because she acted without thinking. Again.But Solflara and Beck could be trapped in here, she reminded herself, clinging to the thought to temper the tornado of worry sweeping away her logic.
Digging her feet into the ground, she drew a breath from the breathbind reliquary. On the exhale, her muscles loosened, thoughts steadying enough to focus.
“Are you okay?” Dawson asked softly.
She nodded. “Better now. Thanks.”
He turned back to the barrier. “Let’s see if this works.” He effortlessly conjured cutting winds—blades of air she’d seen slice through solid stone.
Alaire stepped back as he hurled them forward, but they disintegrated on impact.
Her gaze traveled up the cavern’s monstrous height, where stalactites hung like chandeliers of rocks.
Dawson’s warm, calloused hand pressed against her lower back, pulling her close.
“What was that for?” Alaire whisper-yelled.
“Look.” He pointed to the walls.
Her eyes flicked over them, heart stuttering. The cavern was lined with skulls stacked row on top of row, hollow sockets watching every move.
How did I miss that?She unsheathed her daggers, the weight of them anchoring her.
