1.

  Faelwen

  Night had sunk its claws into the city, and the once-bustling streets lay hollow and silent beneath the weight of darkness. The chill in the air was sharp and unforgiving, curling through the cracks in my cloak as I pulled it tighter around my shoulders. The path toward the mountain pass wound ahead of us, narrow ribbon of jagged stone slicing through the dark. It took us less than an hour to reach it. An hour of breathless quiet and the rhythmic crunch of boots on wet gravel, each step drawing us closer to the prison’s gaping maw. I could feel everyone’s tension building up in their bodies.

  “Well, here it is,” Elora murmured when we reached the base of the pass. Her voice was light, but I could hear the thin edge of tension beneath it. “Watch your step… it’s slippery.”

  Rain had begun to fall, thin needles of cold cutting into my skin. The slick stones glistened beneath the faint light of the overcast sky, treacherous beneath our feet. The narrow path snaked recklessly around the mountain’s edge, and beside us yawned a chasm so deep that the darkness inside seemed to breathe.

  The entrance of the pass rose before us, a massive stone arch weathered by time and shadow with strange symbols clawed across its surface, etched deep into the rock. I traced my fingers over them, feeling the faint thrum of dormant magic. “This isn’t Elvish,” I said, my voice soft. Ash stepped closer, his eyes dark as he studied the carvings. He shook his head slowly. “No. And it’s not Infernal either. It’s… older.”

  “What about this?” Spook’s voice broke the stillness as he pointed to a warped wooden sign planted crookedly in the ground. The paint had mostly peeled away, but the jagged script was still readable beneath the grime. Elora’s brow furrowed as she leaned in to read the Elvish signs. Her lips parted slightly before she spoke. “Abandon all hope, you are forsaken.” Her voice was steady, but the faint tremor beneath it coiled cold fingers around my spine.

  A heavy silence settled between us, pressing down like the weight of the mountain itself. Spook cleared his throat, a weak grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well… what are we waiting for?”

  He strode forward, and I followed, my boots slipping more than once on the treacherous path. Twice I would have gone sprawling into the abyss if Ash hadn’t been walking behind me, his strong hands catching me at the last moment. Each time, I felt the faint, warm pull of our mental bond. A quiet reassurance, a tether in the dark.

  Halfway up the pass, another arch loomed ahead, cracked and partially sunken into the stone. No sign warned us this time, but the bleached bones of a skeleton lay crumpled at its base, a dark stain pooled beneath the brittle remains. No words were needed for this warning.

  Ash met my gaze, his expression calm and his mind brushed against mine in quiet reassurance. I tugged at the bond and felt his warmth pulse in return. I’m with you.

  Beyond the arch, the prison emerged from the mountainside like the ribcage of some ancient beast. The entrance was a vast stone gate, its surface decorated with curling spires and chipped runes. A stone landing jutted out beneath it, the kind of place where dragons might have once settled their great wings. In the dim light, I could make out figures moving near the gate. Small, hooded shaped, barely illuminated by the flicker of a dying fire. Spook stiffened. “Guards,” he whispered. “We’ll need to stay in the shadows.”

  We melted into the darkness, the rain cloaking our footsteps. My eyes scanned the rough stone walls for a side entrance, but the prison seemed impenetrable. A fortress of ancient malice.

  We stopped beneath the final arch, huddled in the cold shadows as the guards loomed closer. Two of them. Their hoods were drawn low, and the fire between them cast flickering light across their pale, scarred faces. They were distracted, eyes dulled by comfort and flame.

  Spook turned to us, placing a finger to his lips. His hand dipped down to the ground, curling around a loose stone. He signalled his plan with a flick of his wrist: a distraction. Get them to investigate and we slip inside. Spook straightened, aimed… and slipped. His foot shot out from beneath him, and he hit the wet stond with a sharp curse. The rock flew wildly through the air. Not toward the far platform as intended, but directly at the back of one guard’s head.

  Crack.

  The guard grunted, clutching his skull as a thin ribbon of blood trickled between his fingers. The other was instantly on his feet, blade flashing beneath the firelight. His voice tore through the rain in harsh Elvish: “Fight! You cowards!”

  Spook winced and turned toward us with a sheepish smile. “Uh… we may have a problem.”

  Ash sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, you have a problem. We have an idiot who keeps getting us into them.”

  Spook flashed a weak grin. I bit back a laugh. We didn’t have time to dwell on it. Both guards were already charging toward us. I rose from the shadows and nocked an arrow. Beside me, Elora drew her sword, her pale hair a golden blur as she reluctantly shot forward. The first guard barely had time to raise his weapon before her blade cut him down. My arrow buried itself in the throat of the second guard a moment alter. He crumpled to the ground with a wet gurgle. I felt a momentary pang of regret. This wasn’t the way we wanted to enter the prison. They were innocent elves. Ash unaware of my struggle, knelt to search the bodies, coming away with a ring of keys. Without hesitation, he tossed the bodies into the chasm below. I glared at him. “It had to be done, darling. If others were to see these bodies, they would go on a hunt for us,” he responded to my glare.

  “You think the others heard that?” Elora whispered while she walked over to us.

  Ash’s eyes narrowed toward the gate. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  We stepped toward the mouth of the prison, where the dark and the cold waited like a living thing, hungry and endless.

  The prison loomed before us, carved into the very bones of the mountain. Jagged spires of dark stone jutted toward the stormy sky, the weathered edges dusted with frost. A narrow stone platform curled outward from the cliff’s face, suspended precariously over a dizzying drop into the mist-shrouded depths below. The entrance itself was a gaping arch of ancient black rock, worn smooth by centuries of wind and cold. Thin trails of snow clung to the cracks in the stone, and the ice that clung to the jagged edges glittered faintly beneath the pale light of the moon.

  I glanced from the entrance to the vast platform behind me, trying to fathom the sheer size of the dragons that once dwelled here. The thought of them, colossal and ancient, made the air feel heavier somehow. Tucked into the corner of one of the towering doors was a smaller, weathered entrance. Ash produced the guards’ key with a soft jingle and slid into the lock. The door creaked open and we slipped through, swallowed by the dark beyond.

  We entered a massive hallway, flanked by shadowy pillars that rose into an abyssal ceiling. Stone dragons coiled around the pillars, their carved scales glinting faintly in the dimness. Their expressions were twisted into frozen snarls, hollow eyes glaring down as though they could sense our trespass. The silence was oppressive, a deathly, unnatural stillness broken only by the sound of our breaths curling into white clouds in the frigid air. Spook and Ash motioned for us to stay back as they slipped ahead into the shadows. Minutes stretched like hours before they returned. “This hallway extends far,” Spook whispered, his voice a fragile echo against the cold stone. “There are many side doors leading to smaller hallways.” His eyes flicked toward the darkness. “No guards,” he added. Ash snapped his fingers, and a flicker of green flame bloomed in his palm. The soft light danced across the stone, awakening hidden details. He lifted his hand, and the fire floated upward, bathing the hall in an eerie emerald glow. My breath hitched. The stone dragons gleamed as the light touched them. Gold, silver, ruby, and sapphire scales glinting beneath centuries of dust. Their metallic eyes seemed almost alive, glimmering with ancient malice beneath the flickering green light.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  “I never imagined a prison could be beautiful,” I whispered, my voice barely carrying through the cold.

  “It is,” Elora, her tone measured. “It must have been magnificent in times past when the dragons still roamed the world. But were not here to admire it’s beauty. How do we find the dragon’s lair?”

  I glanced down at Artemis. His golden eyes caught the green light, wolfish and sharp. This way, his voice whispered through the bond between us. “Follow Artemis,” I said, and the group fell in line behind me.

  The corridors twisted and narrowed, some barely wide enough to pass through, others stretching into yawning dark. Only a few were lit by flickering torches. We avoided those, sticking to the shadows where the cold seemed deeper. Twice we encountered guards. We melted into the dark, pressing against the rough stone until the sound of their footsteps faded.

  As we descended deeper into the prison’s heart, distant voices floated through the stone of thin, broken things. We passed cell blocks. The cells were built recently, mismatched stonework betraying their later construction. It was as if the prison had been grafted onto something far older. Figures huddled in the corners of their cages, gaunt humans and elves with hollow eyes. None of them stirred at our passing, too lost, trapped in their own despair. Twice we came across a few guards. We stuck close to the shadows and let them pass. It was clear they hadn’t heard the ruckus outside and were unaware of our presence.

  Artemis stopped at the top of a spiralling stairwell, ears pricked. I closed my eyes and tuned into his senses. Footsteps, light and hurried, receded into the depths below, followed by murmurs too faint to decipher. When I opened my eyes, Artemis growled low. Clear. We descended the stairs into a T-shaped junction flanked by more cells. The cold deepened, sinking through skin and into bone. I pulled my cloak tighter, but the chill cut through it like knives. “Necromancy,” Ash muttered. We turned toward him. “The cold,” he explained, his green-lit face hard with memory. “It’s the breath of death, pulled from beyond.” His eyes darkened. “I’ve used it before.”

  A shiver curled down my spine. I remembered the day Ash had wielded that magic to save me from the demon. His face twisted in shadows, his eyes emptied of humanity. “Stay close,” he said, his voice tight. He murmured an incantation under his breath. Magic bled into the air causing a tingling vibration beneath my skin. The sound of our footsteps vanished. No clink of gear, no shuffle of cloth. We moved like ghosts through the cold. Artemis led us down a narrow hall and stopped before an ancient wooden door. It’s lair is beneath this room, his voice brushed through my mind. I relayed this to the others. Spook stepped forward, sifting through the keyring Ash had given him. It took him a long, tense minute before a soft click broke the silence. The door creaked open. The room beyond was cavernous. A massive pool stretched at the far end, black and still, reflecting distorted shapes from the green firelight Ash had lit again. Stone doors lined the walls on the right and the left, carved with the same coiling dragons as the hallway outside. “This was its resting place,” Elora murmured. I stepped toward a smaller door on the right side of the chamber, studying it closely. Is it behind this door, Buddy? I asked through our bond. Artemis’s bright eyes glinted. Yes, he confirmed. I motioned for Spook to come and open the door. He tried every key on the keychain but none of them worked. I looked helplessly at Artemis. You think it’s that easy? I heard Artemis voice in my mind. I stilled. What do you mean?

  You need the dragon’s key, he said with quiet amusement. And its name. Magic binds it.

  I wasn’t even surprised anymore about his knowledge of dragons, but felt a slight irritation come up. “You couldn’t have mentioned this earlier?” I sighed aloud. Artemis’s mental chuckle was soft and lupine. Sorry Wen, I forgot. I’m getting old, remember?

  I scratched him behind his ear. “I know.” I spoke softly and turned to the others. “We need the key and use the dragon’s name.”

  Elora’s brow furrowed. “And where do we find that key?”

  Find the Keeper, Artemis’s voice curled through my mind. Again I was surprised at his knowledge, but I ignored it for now. “We have to find the Keeper,” I relayed this to the group. A chill passed through the room. And somewhere deep in the dark, I swore I heard something stirring.

  Right on cue, a low, ghastly moan echoed down the corridor behind us. The sound slithered through the cold air like a breath of death, sending a shiver down my spine. My heart hammered painfully against my ribs as Ash’s gaze sharpened, his posture tense. Spook and Elora turned as one, hands flying to their weapons, but Ash lifted a hand sharply, fingers splayed. Wait. His expression darkened as he motioned for silence. His green firelight went out and we were plunged into darkness.

  We froze, the tension crackling between us like ice ready to splinter. The moaning came again, closer this time, accompanied by a wet, dragging sound. The scrape of something heavy sliding over stone. A sharp, broken sob followed. Someone was being dragged. My breath hitched. We melted into the shadows, pressing against the frigid stone walls. And then it emerged.

  A tall, nightmarish figure glided down the corridor, shrouded in long, tattered black robes that trailed like smoke behind it. Its limbs were unnaturally long, skeletal arms ending in slender, claw-tipped fingers that curled and twitched as it moved. The creature’s skin was ashen grey, like decayed flesh stretched too thin over bone. Its face was concealed beneath the deep hood of its robes, but one terrible feature was visible; a mouth.

  A huge, gaping maw lined with pointed, uneven teeth, glistening with saliva. It made a soft clicking noise as it ground its teeth together, a sound that scraped against the inside of my skull. It didn’t walk. It floated, gliding soundlessly above the stone floor, a dark wraith given form. As it passed the open doorway, it hesitated. My heart stopped.

  It turned slightly toward us, the clicking growing louder. My muscles locked, breath shallow in my chest. It lingered there for an agonizing moment, tasting the air. I swore I could feel its attention slithering through the dark, brushing over my skin like cold tendrils. Then it moved on and I let go of my breath I’d been holding. Behind it, a prisoner stumbled and moaned. The man’s wrists were bound by a rope trailing from the creatures clawed hand. He wore ragged, stained clothing, his head bowed as he shuffled forward, shaking with silent sobs. His feet scraped feebly against the stone, barely able to stand.

  Suddenly, the creature’s head snapped back again looking inside straight at us. It moved so fast that the prisoner stumbled and nearly fell. I stiffened again, every muscle seizing with the instinct to run, but I didn’t dare breathe. The creature clicked its teeth once more. Slowly, unnervingly, it turned away and drifted further down the hall, the prisoner’s soft sobs trailing after it.

  My lungs screamed for air, but I held my breath until the sound of the dragging footsteps faded. That’s the Keeper, Artemis’s voice curled darkly through my mind. I could sense his fear was just as strong as mine. My heart plummeted into my stomach. I locked eyes with Ash in the darkness. Through our bond, I felt the weight of my fear brushing against him. His jaw tightened, the muscles flexing as he tugged gently at our connection. Don’t move yet.

  We stood there, frozen, until Spook quietly approached the door and pushed it shut with a careful, soft click. He turned back toward us, his face half-hidden beneath the shadows of his hood. His voice was tight when he asked, “What was that?”

  “The Keeper,” I whispered, the name tasting sour on my tongue. “He carries the key.”

  Spook’s gloved hand curled into a fist. “Then we’ll have to take it from him.” His tone was sharp with resolve. He turned toward Ash. “I’ll need your magic to hide me. Ash and I will get the key. You two stay here with Artemis.”

  I shook my head violently. “No.” My voice was sharp and low. “We’re not splitting up. Never split the party! You have no idea what that thing can do.”

  “I agree with Faelwen,” Elora said, her eyes flashing in the dark. “You might need us if it comes to a fight.”

  Spook and Ash exchanged a long look, a silent understanding passing between them. Ash’s expression softened, though the tension lingered beneath it. “Alright,” Ash murmured. “New plan. We all follow the creature. When we find the right moment, Spook and I will get the key. You three stay on watch.”

  I took a steadying breath and nodded. “Better.”

  But the memory of that mouth, those clicking teeth, lingered in the back of my mind like a cold shadow.