“You know,” Casteel drawled, “you’re adorable with your mouth hanging open.”

  I snapped it shut.

  The heavy doors opened then, letting in the fading rays of sunlight from outside as Reaver strode in…

  Completely nude.

  “For fuck’s sake, man,” growled Casteel as I quickly spun in the opposite direction.

  “You do realize that draken are nude before and after shifting,” was Reaver’s bland response.

  “And you realize you’re carrying pants in your hand, right?” Casteel retorted. The image of Reaver flying with pants dangling from his talons almost made me giggle. “Instead of wearing them?”

  “I didn’t want to keep you all waiting.”

  “For the whole five seconds it would’ve taken you to put them on?” I asked.

  “Yes.” There was a pause. “I’m wearing them now.”

  Casteel was shaking his head as I peeked behind me. Reaver had donned the same loose, black pants I’d seen him wearing earlier.

  “This way.” Reaver’s gravelly voice echoed through the circular hall as he passed us.

  “Keep close,” Casteel said. “Just in case.”

  I nodded as we entered a sunlit hall. Through the many windows, I could see tall cedars and the dark-gray buildings of the nearby dorms. We entered another area, and I was immediately distracted by the dozen or so statues lining the northern hall.

  They were tall, towering at least eight feet high, and held shields shaped like teardrops against their chests, their swords pointed toward the ground. The statues had been carved from a nearly translucent stone that appeared to subtly shift through shades of blue and green as we passed. It reminded me of moonstone, but the moment that thought entered my mind, I remembered what kind of stone it was.

  Liminite.

  Surprise scuttled through me. Similar to limestone but with the appearance of moonstone, liminite was a rare stone once mined from the southernmost point of the Elysium Peaks. My brows knitted. And if I remembered what was said about it, it had once been used in the burial rites of royalty from long-gone kingdoms.

  The fact that it was so rare to see liminite wasn’t what drew my attention and held it, however.

  While the statues were incredibly detailed, even down to the fingernails on the hands grasping their swords, their faces were smooth and devoid of any features.

  And that was, well…creepy.

  Not only that, the featureless faces reminded me of the dakkais.

  I’d only seen the stone once as a child—in the Queen’s Garden. There was a statue of a mother holding her babe made of such stone. As we passed closer to one, I lifted my arm—

  Casteel captured my wrist. “Why,” he said, his voice low but light with amusement, “must you touch everything?”

  My lips pursed. “As I’ve said before, I’m a tactile person.”

  “If you need to feel something up, I have something you can get all kinds of tactile with later,” he remarked, causing my cheeks to flame. “And I believe you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  I so did.

  Letting go of my hand, he steered us toward the middle of the hall. I scowled at the fact that the statues were now out of my reach.

  “I didn’t want to feel it up,” I muttered, shooting him a scathing look. His answer was a chuckle.

  “This way,” Reaver said, guiding us toward a hall to our right.

  Through the windows lining the hall, I caught glimpses of the white walls of one of the dormitories as Casteel trailed his hand down the middle of my back. It would be nice to come to a point where those buildings could be used to house people not training to make war.

  “Have you told her about those who have come to Wayfair every day to see her?” Reaver asked as we passed several closed doors.

  My head snapped toward him. “What?”

  Casteel cursed. “No, I haven’t.”

  Reaver chuckled.

  “What is he talking about?”

  “Nothing,” Casteel maintained with a smile.

  “It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

  “Rumors of you being a god have spread,” Reaver explained despite Casteel looking at him like he wanted to kick him through the wall.

  That wouldn’t happen because I was about to kick him through a wall. “Neither you nor Kieran mentioned that.”

  “Because it’s not a big deal.”

  “Then why have they come?” I demanded.

  “To pay you homage,” Reaver answered.

  My mouth dropped open.

  “They have left gifts. Tokens.”

  “What?” I whispered, glancing at Casteel, watching the muscle tick in his jaw.

  “Coins. Flowers. Their babes’ blankets. Candles and figurines,” Reaver rattled off. “Someone left a pig.”

  “A…a pig?”

  “A live pig.” He sent a frown over his shoulder. “Not sure why.”

  “Perhaps they learned of your love for bacon,” Casteel remarked.

  “But why would they leave a live pig?” I asked. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

  His gaze slid to mine, and the color of his eyes warmed like pools of golden amber. “How do you think you end up with bacon?”

  “I know how bacon gets made,” I told him. “I just don’t like to think about it.”

  Reaver stopped in front of a door. “Pigs are very intelligent, emotional creatures.”

  “Oh, my gods,” I muttered as he opened the heavy iron door, letting out a rush of cool, musty air. “I don’t want to think about that or the fact that anyone is leaving me gifts. They don’t need to do that, and they especially don’t need to leave me coin. Can we find out who has left that and return it to them?”

  “Unlikely,” Reaver said, descending the gas lamplit stairwell.

  Casteel sighed and let go of my hand. “Are you sure you like him?”

  “Yes.” Reaver’s voice echoed from around the bend in the stairs. “She is sure.”

  I grinned and trailed my fingers along smooth walls the color of cracked pepper.

  “Careful,” Reaver warned. “The last step is steep.”

  I felt Casteel’s hand on my lower back. The slight weight was comforting. Reaching the last step, I saw that Reaver hadn’t been joking. There was about a foot difference between the step and the floor. I hopped down.

  Casteel simply stepped down behind me.

  He winked, and my silly heart fluttered as I scanned the underground hall. The ceiling wasn’t as high as the area beneath Wayfair, and the pillars were made of iron instead of sandstone, but it reminded me of the silent, cold halls I’d wandered as a child.

  Casteel fell into step beside me as the shorter hall widened out. We continued through the bowels of the citadel as I poked at a fang with my tongue. I thought about what needed to be—or should be—done. “When we return, we need to meet with the generals.”

  He let out a noncommittal sound. “I’m sure Tawny would like to see you.”

  My heart dropped, nearly causing me to trip. I pressed my hand to my stomach, realizing that my reaction wasn’t a one-off thing. Though what I felt didn’t make sense. It almost reminded me of when I was summoned to Teerman’s office. The dread I felt wasn’t that level of bad, but it still coated every thought of Tawny.

  Casteel had fallen silent, but I felt his gaze on me.

  I cleared my throat. “Do you know what this part of Ironspire was used for, Reaver?”

  “The halls lead to personal quarters,” he answered. “It is likely where the Knights and generals stayed.”

  It made sense. Down here, there was no fear of being exposed to the sun. But had they known what was entombed down here?

  We fell silent as Reaver led us forward, my thoughts consumed with all that needed to be decided and dealt with. I could feel the stress building inside me. Less than a year ago, I would’ve laughed hysterically if someone had said I’d be in a position where I needed to decide such things. Honestly, I sort of wanted to laugh hysterically now.

  The hall narrowed ahead and was barely lit. The moment we crossed it, the feeling of a dozen unseen eyes watching settled over me. Tiny bumps rose all over my skin as I scanned the walls, spying carved marks similar to those I had seen outside the chamber my father had been kept in.

  For some reason, an image of Leopold formed in my mind—hair a rich, reddish brown and eyes as green as emeralds.

  “Wards,” Casteel murmured, noticing what I looked at. “It would be really good for us to learn who gave Isbeth this information. I doubt Malec could’ve educated her on them so well that she could implement something like this hundreds of years later.”

  I blinked away the ghostly image of Leo as Reaver said, “We’re here.”

  Casteel took my hand as the hall opened into a chamber dug from the earth instead of made from iron. The smell of rich, damp soil was strong.

  Together, we stepped into the space lit by two torches jutting from the walls on either side of the opening. The flames cast a flickering, orange glow over the packed dirt. My lips parted. Bones of various shapes and sizes lay scattered across the earthen floor, the white of them dulled with age, and their once-sharp edges worn smooth. Fragments of tattered clothing, stained and threadbare, clung to some.

  Casteel inhaled sharply. “Fuck.”

  I turned to find Reaver. He stood, his arms loose at his sides and shoulders curved inward. A visible tremor swept through him. My gaze followed his, and I…

  I took a step back as shock and disbelief flooded me.

  When I saw Nektas slumbering in his stone form, he had been massive and still managed to look proud and formidable.

  That was not what I saw now.

  I wasn’t even sure what I was looking at.

  There were no sharp details of scales in the stone or the smooth spikes of frills and horns. It was just a jagged heap of stone that couldn’t have been larger than Setti.

  My throat dried as I looked up at Casteel. His features were stark as he stared. “We’re sure that’s her?” he asked.

  “It’s…her,” Reaver answered. His shoulders rose with a deep breath, and then he grabbed one of the torches. He neared her, lifting the torch. “If you come closer, you can see that it is.”

  Casteel started forward, and I forced my legs to move.

  “She wasn’t…well,” Reaver said, his tone flat, but his voice quivered. He cleared his throat. “She must’ve been weakened to…look like this.”

  The light of the torch rolled over glossy, black chains—shadowstone. I followed the one lying against the flat gray stone. That was how I could tell where her head was. The chain encircled a thin section which I took to be her neck. Drawing closer, I could make out indents there that had to be her eyes and mouth. There were two growths along the top of the oval-shaped mound that I guessed were horns. The stone arched near the area of the torso. Wings, I realized. Wings pressed close to a thin body and even thinner limbs.

  She was so small.

  My gaze dropped to her forelimbs. Her talons were distinctive, the ridges of scales clearly visible there. I sucked in a sharp breath. Beneath her claws, I saw deep grooves in the earth. The horror that had been building inside me since I’d entered her resting place gave way to fury.

  I pulled my hand free of Casteel’s and fisted both as the essence rose in me, thrumming unsteadily. I thought about the fact that the Knights’ and other Ascended’s quarters were so close to where she’d been kept for who knew how long. What she could’ve experienced down here…

  Nausea churned, coating my mouth with a bitter taste as the corners of my vision turned silver. How could Isbeth do this? How could she do any of what she had done? Gods, it was such a pointless thing to wonder, but I couldn’t help myself. My flesh and blood was responsible for this, and I…

  “I want to kill her,” I said, my skin humming as shame settled over me like the veil I’d been forced to wear. My mother was responsible for this. “I want to kill her all over again.”

  Casteel turned, curling his hand around the base of my neck. His touch felt warm against the coolness of my skin. “You need to calm.”

  “I am calm,” I stated as a fine dusting of dirt fell from the ceiling.

  He bent and pressed his forehead to my temple before I felt him brush against my swirling thoughts. You’re not calm, Poppy. His fingers moved along the side of my neck, working the tension gathered there. If this chamber caves in on us, we won’t be able to help Jadis.

  The shadows started to rise, obscuring the aged bones and the pieces of worn cloth. I didn’t want the chamber to cave in on us. I wanted to bring the entirety of Ironspire down and turn it to nothing but dust.

  “Poppy,” Casteel murmured. “Sweetheart?”

  I inhaled with a shudder and turned my head to him. I could feel my heart pounding as I locked gazes with him.

  “I know,” he said, and then I heard the whisper of his voice. I know you’re angry and horrified. So am I. But that shame belongs only to Isbeth. She did this, and that’s no reflection upon you.

  His features blurred, and I slammed my eyes shut. Casteel was right. This was on Isbeth. And this wasn’t about me and my feelings toward her.

  He brushed his lips over my brow. “Understand?”

  I nodded, and the next breath I took eased the burn in my lungs.

  Casteel lifted his head and slid his hand down my back, his fingers tangling in my hair. His steady gaze held mine when my eyes reopened.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He shook his head, telling me those two words weren’t needed, but he’d earned them.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I turned to where Reaver waited. “So, I just need to touch her?”

  “That’s what Nektas believes,” he answered, kneeling by the entombed Jadis.

  Aware of Casteel following me, I walked forward and lowered myself to my knees. I looked at Reaver, only able to see the curve of his jaw through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

  His chest rose with a deep breath, and he nodded. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t break the chains,” he said, his voice so quiet, but the pain in each word reached inside me and seized my heart in a fist. “I was afraid I’d accidentally hurt her.”

  “I’ll do it,” I told him.

  He turned his head to me, and I saw the pain I heard in his voice clearly etched into every line of his face. It was hard to look at.

  Moving my attention to the chains, I picked up the one around her neck first and summoned the eather. It responded at once to my will. There was no display of power, but it obliterated the shadowstone. Then I picked up the other, destroying it as quickly as I had the first.

  Brushing the fine dust from my palms, I let out a shaky breath. I had no idea how my touch had awakened Nektas, and my so-called foresight was quiet. I lifted my hand, hesitating for a moment.

  “If it doesn’t work, it’ll be okay,” Reaver assured me.

  But would it?

  I couldn’t see how. I pressed my lips together.

  You can do this, came Casteel’s voice. Just be prepared to move quickly.

  I understood why he worried. There was no telling how Jadis would react upon awakening.

  Drawing in a shallow breath, I placed my hand on her talon. I felt the ridges of her scales, and the stone was warm like Nektas’s had been. I kept my hand there, my eyes glued to her sharp claws.

  Nothing happened.

  My stomach dropped, but it hadn’t been immediate with Nektas either. His awakening had taken a couple of moments. How many, though? Less than a minute? Two or three? I felt Reaver leaning closer.

  I scanned the stone, searching for any hints of change and finding none. Disappointment threatened to rise as I concentrated on the thrumming essence. I hadn’t done that last time. I hadn’t even tried last time. But I could feel the power humming through my veins, and a glow of silver tinged in gold radiated from my hand.

  But still…nothing happened.

  “It may take her longer,” Reaver reasoned. “She’s still considered a youngling, and she’s deep in her sleep.”

  I nodded, keeping my hand on her. Come on. I repeated those two words over and over as the seconds ticked by, the only sound the pounding of my heart. I couldn’t take back what Isbeth had done to Jadis, but I could at least bring her back to her family and loved ones. I needed to be able to do this. My skin vibrated, and my chest hummed as the aura around my hand pulsed and flickered over the stone.

  “Jadis, please come back to us,” Reaver said, his voice soft and gentle in a way I’d never heard it before. “Please return to us.” The breath he exhaled was ragged, and when he spoke again, it came out as a broken whisper, “I’m sorry, Jade. So fucking sorry.”

  A slice of pain cut through my chest. I closed my eyes. Desperation swelled. The heat of eather flared from deep within me as I felt Casteel kneel behind me and set his hand on my shoulder.

  “Just a couple more minutes,” I said—or pleaded.

  Squeezing my shoulder, he stayed silent. We waited more than a couple of minutes, but I was willing to wait hours.

  I pressed a little harder against the stone and bit down on my lip until I tasted blood. What if she couldn’t—? No, I wouldn’t let myself think that.

  “Poppy,” Reaver uttered hoarsely.

  Frustration prickled at my skin. “Just a few—”

  “It’s okay,” he swore.

  My hand trembled. “No, it’s not.”

  Reaver twisted toward me. “Look at me.”

  “I need to focus,” I stated firmly.

  “Poppy,” he uttered, his voice cracking like a frayed rope about to snap.

  I turned to face him, the light from the torch casting shadows across his angular features. Pressure clamped down on my chest.

  Reaver swallowed as he took hold of my wrist and pulled my hand away from the stone. “It has to be okay.”

  I shook my head, staring at his long, slender fingers encircling my wrist. “I…I don’t know why it’s not working.” I searched my whirling thoughts, but no intuition held any answers for me. And I didn’t know what that meant. Lifting my head, I looked at Casteel. “I don’t understand. And the absolutely useless vadentia isn’t working.”