Page 11 of To Sway a Prince
My magic made them light up briefly, and these mechanisms pulsed in response. Not quite what I expected. An ordinary mechanism, like the ones in old barns used to roll down special walls. And that mechanism also ran up into the ceiling but withstronger braces, suggesting that the entire ceiling truly could be rolled back, likely to allow the dragons to fly out.
All I had to do was select the right lever to release the proper counterweight, and Zephyrus's cell would open. Then it'd be a simple matter of going up the stairway. Probably best not to risk opening the entire tower unless I had no other choice.
Zephyrus nudged me again with his nose and gave a low rumble of approval.
I smiled at him wryly and pressed my cheek to his jaw. "Yeah, was that what you wanted me to see?"
A gentle chuff was his only answer, his head tilted.
That wasn't quite the response I wanted. It sounded more like he expected something else, but it wasn't a warning. The only ward or sigil specifically connected to those levers was intended to make it hard to see by outsiders and those unfriendly to the Sentinels and dragons. Still I moved cautiously, examining the air, floor, ceilings, and walls for any hint of a hidden trap. Ramiel had fooled me more than enough for one lifetime, and?—
The air crackled. Runes surged around me in a blinding spiral of light as a deafening hum filled my ears. A great force slammed into my aura like a battering ram, and a translucent barrier encased me. I fell back, striking curved walls and suddenly suspended once more in the air in what looked to be a glass prison shaped like a tapered bud.
5
BLOOD BOUND
"Damn it!" I shouted as I struck the inside. The sound bounced back at me, vibrating along the deceptively strong, clear walls. Another trap! How did he mask these so well?! I had literally broken into the Library of the Celestial Spire. I'd eluded dozens, maybe hundreds, of bounty hunters and mercenaries over the years. I'd unshackled the Beast of the Low Fiend's Pass with just my magic even though he'd killed more than a dozen others. And I'd done that in the air with Zephyrus threatening to do barrel rolls. Yet somehow—once again—Ramiel had snared me…like a gnat in a web.
Thread rot, I hated this!
Zephyrus huffed at me again. That blast of steam followed by the arching of his horned eyebrows annoyed me. He didn't seem bothered by this. Another steamy breath made the glass fog up on the one side. I narrowed my eyes. "You think this is funny? Use your tail and break this thing open." His low rumble was his only answer, and I set my jaw. Utterly useless.
I wove a series of knots, rubbing them between my fingers until they hummed with power. Then I bound them together and released them in a burst. They struck hard but slid off, unraveling into thin threads before they fell away entirely.
Thread rot!
Options. I had options. Even if the knots weren't enough, I still had my runes.
Breathe, Astraia.
I tried again.
Nothing.
I traced runes with my fingertip and with my pale-gold blade. Despite all the power I poured into them, they simply flared and vanished. My aura remained contained in this as well. But no matter how much I coaxed the runes or knots into their full strength, they simply crackled or sparked. Twice the bulb wobbled, but the walls always held. Pulseporting was entirely pointless. I tried three times, sapping my strength more. But whatever this bulb was, it kept all my magic inside even when I just envisioned standing on the flagstones just a few feet away.
Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. I screamed and struck it with my fist. It hurt as if I had just punched a stone wall rather than magical glass. I tried again and again until my magic was exhausted. Then I slid down to the bottom of my prison, drawing my knees to my chest.
My pulse pounded in my ears as I focused. Exhaustion tugged at me, my head throbbing from overextending. "Zephyrus, break this bulb open." I gestured toward him and then to my prison.
He huffed another column of steam at me and shook his head. Then he cocked it like he wanted to play.
I glared at him. "This isn't a game?—"
"No, it is not. Games are actually fun," a familiar deep voice said.
Thread rot…I resisted the urge to drop my chin against my chest. Well, this shouldn't be surprising.
Ramiel strode closer. He had combed his hair out so that it was no longer mussed as it had been when he lay on the floor.He'd changed his clothing as well, now wearing a deep-blue surcoat over silver trousers. Those dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced though, and he favored his right side. The way he looked at me made my skin prickle.
I lifted my chin in defiance, despite not having a single clue what I could do next.
"Why do I feel as if this is simply a look into what is to come?" he demanded.
"Because I will never stop." I squared my shoulders.
"You need to be reasonable," he said, his voice tight. He strode up to the glass bulb, his gaze fixed on me intently. "You should not be here. Zephyrus should."
