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“I think so,” she whispered. “That was . . . it was like being in an inferno.”
Endreth frowned, his arms still supporting her.
“The barrier is stronger than any you have tried before. It is designed to drain all life from anyone who crosses it, but given your unique nature, it affects you differently,” Aegonar explained.
“It is designed to kill anyone who crosses it?”
Endreth’s grip tightened around her. “I would not have asked you to cross it, if I had any doubt that you could cross it unharmed.”
She nodded, glancing at Aegonar, a shiver running down her spine. “Maybe, maybe give me a bit of a warning next time?”
Endreth chuckled softly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Deal.”
Aegonar’s sharp eyes moved from her to his younger brother, lingering on Endreth’s arms around her, on the small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “It seems, Anthea,” the heir began, his voice dripping with feigned sweetness as he leaned against the stone wall, crossing his arms, “you have grown quite . . . close with my brother. I suppose the party did wonders for your relationship?” Anthea’s eyes snapped up, meeting his green ones. Warmth spread to her cheeks. Endreth let go of her and stepped back. “Did you find it hard to resist his charms, human? Do not fret; there will be many more events for you to enjoy such . . . attentions,” he added, sneering.
“Aegonar.” The warning in Endreth’s tone was unmistakable, and it took Anthea by surprise.
Aegonar raised an eyebrow, his smirk momentarily faltering. “It was merely an observation,” he drawled, but his tone had lost some of its earlier confidence. Endreth locked eyes with his brother, silently challenging him to continue. Aegonar’s smirk disappeared altogether, replaced by a thoughtful frown.
Anthea felt a strange sense of reassurance. For all his previous aloofness, Endreth was standing up for her. Maybe, she wasn’t entirely alone in this world.
Maybe.
Aegonar tilted his head slightly. “Come to my study after you’re done here,” he said to his brother, turned, and exited the room.
Endreth had dismissed her from his study after Aegonar had left, his face serious, contemplative.
Aegonar hadn’t been at their testing sessions ever since.
Only Endreth.
She preferred it like that.
One of the books Endreth had given her dated back more than three thousand years—a time when the ruling race of Isluma were the dragons. Sitting in his study, she traced the beautifully illustrated depiction of a magnificent beast, its wings outstretched, fire billowing from its maw.
Endreth appeared beside her. “They were horrific, weren’t they?” he remarked, gazing at the picture.
Anthea looked up at him, eyes wide with fascination. “Why isn’t there more written about them? What happened?”
He took a seat next to her. “There is much debate and few concrete answers. The dragons’ dominance spanned eons, and then, seemingly overnight, most of them vanished. Some say a magical shift altered their essence, causing them to disappear from our realm. And others say they departed willingly. It is believed they traveled to another realm?—”
“Wait . . .” Anthea’s fingers grazed the dragon’s black wings on the picture. “Are you saying that . . . that these dragons, they could travel between worlds?”
“Dragons, in ancient times, were not just creatures of fire and destruction; they were sentient, powerful beings, believed to have knowledge of the secrets of the universe. The exact details of what happened to them remain shrouded in mystery.” His gaze flickered to the window, to the foamy waves outside. “But something big took place, and the dragons, they were almost all gone.”
Almost all. She didn’t dare to hope. If the dragons had known how to travel between realms, then maybe, maybe there were some texts or manuscripts about it, maybe somewhere in Isluma there was a key for her to get back. A sudden flash of memory gripped her, a hazy recollection of the night she had arrived in Isluma. Her thoughts, previously fogged by panic and the alcohol in her system, began to clear, and she remembered a man—a strange man muttering about fire. “I . . . I remember something. When I first arrived here, there was a man. He was speaking about a fire, a fire that consumes all . . .”
“A fire that consumes all?” Endreth echoed, enclosing her fingers with his hand. “What exactly did he say, Anthea?”
She closed her eyes, trying to bring up the memory. “He was rambling . . . I was so scared, but he kept muttering about a fire that devours, that consumes . . .”
“Dragons were creatures of fire. It is possible he was referring to them—to their possible power to consume one reality and devour another, to shift between worlds.”
“You said almost all were gone. Are there any dragons left in Isluma?”
“It was a long time ago. The ones that remained, they bred with other races. For some time their descendants could still shape shift into these beasts. But after the War of the Races—a curse was placed upon them and their children?—”
“But there are still some of their descendants alive in Isluma, and they might know how their ancestors could travel between realms. Endreth, are you saying they might know how I could get back to my own world?”
