Page 41 of House of Gilded Nightmares

He grins and then steps forward and pulls her into an embrace. They thump each other heartily on the back, and when they step apart, his face is stoic again. “After you,” he says to me, pointing to the mouth of the tunnel.

I give Riya a final wave and step into the tunnel. A shiver moves over me, a sense of my fate spiraling ever closer, inevitable and unerring. The final leg of our journey begins. In three days’ time, I will be the Queen of Nightmares.

We descend for what seems like hours. Around and around and around, an eternal staircase twisting down into the bones of the earth. At last, I step off the last stair, nearly falling forward in my surprise to reach flat earth. A massive cavern yawns before me, the ceiling soaring overhead, spikes of rock rising from the floor and hanging from the ceiling such that it looks like the jaws of an enormous beast straining to close. The air is cold, and it smells of bone, and of memory.

Zyren steps out behind me, lifting the ball of magic he’s held cupped in his palm to guide us. It flares, accentuating the shadows beyond the circle of light. In the distance, several tunnels lead out of the cave, and an underground stream glitters. Mist rises up from the water like specters.

“How do you know which tunnel to take?” I ask, turning to look up at him. It’s the first thing we’ve said to each other since we began. As far as I’m concerned, we’re going to pretend that last night didn’t happen, and Zyren seems content with that plan as well.

“I have traveled this path before,” he says, and without further explanation, he strides ahead.

Several more hours pass, Zyren leading the way through caverns and tunnels and along underground rivers. It feels as if years have passed already, my mind slowly slipping away into the darkness and the mist and the heartbeat of the mountain. We stop briefly to eat, during which time we don’t exchange more than a dozen words, and then we continue on again.

When we’re exiting the mouth of a tunnel we’ve been traversing for nearly an hour, Zyren stops so quickly abruptly that I run into the back of him.

“What is it?” I whisper. My voice sounds unnaturally loud within the tunnel.

“I have never seen this place,” he responds.

I step up next to him so I can see beyond the tunnel. We are standing on one end of a wide stone bridge that arcs across a deep chasm, so deep I see stars glittering within. Or at least, something that looks like stars, though that makes no sense at all. The bridge leads to an island of stone, a plateau rising from the darkness below. And on that island stands a forest of dense green trees. Beyond it, dotted through the vast valley we’ve happened upon, other islands rise from the darkness, though most of the others are bare and treeless. I can’t even see the ceiling overhead. Far, far in the distance, I see the silvery ribbons of waterfalls plunging down from somewhere above. I let out a breath of disbelief.

“Did you take a wrong turn?” I ask, heart sinking at the idea of having to backtrack.

Zyren shakes his head. “No. This simply…wasn’t here before.”

If it were anyone else, I would insist they reevaluate the possibility that they made a mistake. But Zyren is not one to make mistakes. “So, magic then?”

After a long moment, Zyren nods. “Stay close to me.”

I dart my eyes around as we begin to walk across the long stone bridge. It feels as if someone—something—is watching us. I feel a presence, though I can’t explain how I feel it. It’s a quality in the air, a faint shiver in the stone beneath our feet. An awareness parallel to ours, sharing the same space.

When we reach the other side of the bridge, Zyren pulls his sword from its sheath, walking slowly and purposefully into the forest. The path cuts right through the middle of them, bright green moss lining it. The trees are huge, old oaks with massive, gnarled trunks that would take ten people to encircle, arms outstretched. They tower overhead, green-gold leaves glowing faintly in the darkness. It is, of course, impossible for trees to grow this far beneath the earth, with no sun to nourish them. But they are just as real as they are impossible.

I reach out to touch the trunk of one of the trees, a sense of wonder fluttering in my chest. Zyren hisses and grabs my hand, pulling it back. “Do not touch them!”

His fingers linger on mine even after he’s pulled me away from the tree, a warmth that sets my skin ablaze. I yank my fingers out of his, too quickly, and step away from him, back onto the path. His eyes follow me as I stride ahead.

“Sarielle,” he calls, his tone a warning.

The path delves deeper into the trees, and something glows in the distance, a flickering light. A clearing in the trees opens before me, and in the clearing are hundreds of pale green lights. My eyes follow them, and I realize with a flush of awe that they’re moths. Glowing moths the size of my hand gliding slowly in the glen within the forest, floating in lazy circles in the darkness beneath the mountain.

I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life. If this is the kind of ancient magic that dwells at the heart of the earth, I am no longer afraid. I stand in the center of them, hands raised at shoulder level, palms turned up, feeling the brush of their wings as they encircle me. Amazement and delight shiver along my skin.

“We need to keep moving,” Zyren says gruffly, coming up behind me. He tries to take my arm, but I pull it from his grasp.

“Can you not let me have this one thing?” I snap.

He turns to face me, jaw rolling. “What?”

I throw my hands in the air. “Is it not enough that I’ve agreed to sacrifice my entire life to save our realms? Agreed to marry someone I don’t know and don’t love?”

Zyren’s mouth twists into an angry line, arms crossing over his chest. “Your fate is not something I have any control over.”

“Clearly, neither of us do,” I growl. “It’s not the life I ever would have chosen for myself. But I’m doing my duty, so the least you can do is let me enjoy a moment here and there.”

“Do not speak to me of duty.” Zyren’s voice rumbles. It is the very bones of the earth we tread on. “You grew up in comfort and luxury. You know nothing of sacrifice.”

I step closer to him, stabbing a finger into his chest. “And I suppose you know me so well because you haunted my dreams all those years? You do not know what my life has truly been like. Trapped in a cage, never seeing the world beyond the palace walls. It may have seemed easy to you, but being a prisoner is not luxury.”

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