Page 53 of Bride of the Black Dragon
The shadows close around us like thick velvet curtains. The walls are damp and craggy, lined with thick veins of silver ore that glitter faintly in the torchlight. Every step echoes faintly behind us, as though the mountain itself is listening.
This tunnel wasn’t dug by human hands, I realize. It’s too perfect, too deliberate…
“How was this made?” I ask, my voice hushed.
Xaren doesn't answer right away. For a long moment, only the soft sound of our footsteps fills the air. Then he glances back over his shoulder.
"You'll see," is all he says.
We walk for what feels like forever—until the torch burns low and the air grows colder. Then, at last, we round a final bend… and I stop in my tracks.
The tunnel ends in a towering iron door. It's massive—easily twice the height of Xaren and just as wide. The surface is matte black, etched with curving sigils and old runes that shimmer faintly in the torchlight. A great ringed handle juts from the center, but it looks ornamental rather than practical. The door doesn’t seem like something one simply opens—it seems like something that must be forced to move. But how?
Xaren doesn’t reach for the handle at all. Instead, he lifts his hand and places it flat against the iron.
“Listen carefully,” he murmurs. Then, under his breath, he speaks a cantrip—a spell in the old tongue, lyrical and strange.
“Blood of fire, bound to flame,
Born of sky, yet never tame.
Drake-blood heir, I claim my right,
Let ancient doors admit the light.”
Beneath his palm, the iron glows blue—brilliant, almost white-hot at the center. The glowing outline of his hand pulses once… and then the entire door shudders.
With a long, low groan, the massive slab of iron swings open, revealing a gust of cold air and pale light.
I step forward slowly, raising the torch… and find myself standing on the edge of the world.
26
ELAINA
The cliff is enormous—wide and flat and made of dark gray stone streaked with quartz. Beyond it lies the entire kingdom, stretched out below like a patchwork quilt of green and gold. I can see the rooftops of the Citadel…the glimmer of the royal gardens…and the deep shadows of the forest beyond.
And farther still—rising like jagged black and white teeth—the Y’pryz Mountains stab into the sky. Their snow-capped peaks catch the early morning light like silver blades.
The view takes my breath away—it’s so beautiful it doesn’t seem real.
I walk over to the edge, unafraid. I’ve never had a fear of heights. In fact, something inside me feels almost drawn to them, though I can’t explain why, even to myself. It’s as if I was always meant to be here, in the wind and the open sky.
And then I remember my dream.
The flying… the lake… the white and silver dragon staring back at me from the water.
I swallow hard and turn to Xaren.
“I read in one of the books about Drake lore, that there’s supposed to be a land beyond those mountains,” I say. “A place where everyone—both men and women—has a Drake inside them. Do you think it’s true?”
Xaren shrugs.
“There might be. I’ve never flown so far. I was made to swear an oath never to leave the boundaries of the Kingdom.”
“But why do you keep your oath? What holds you to this place?” I search his face. “You don’t seem like you want to stay.”
I certainly wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to leave. The Citadel is an awful place for him. It’s not nice for me, either, but he’s been suffering under the Queen’s iron rule for all his life—it’s only been a few months for me.
