“Then search the Bellatorium,” Byzu commands. “Every catacomb, every passage.”
I press deeper into shadow. Dayn is here somewhere—I feel it. My fingers twitch with useless knowledge; I know five blood rituals that could locate him instantly, but Draethys's wards render my native magic impotent. My shadow abilities might help, if I could figure tracking out. Combat training never prepared me for that.
Byzu's growl reverberates through stone. “Lord Daynthazar couldn't vanish without leaving something behind.” His words land like hammer blows. “Fresh squad. Fresh eyes. Fresh noses.”
“At once, my lord.”
The guards' boots thunder toward the entrance hall, down the front steps, voices fading into a chorus of urgent commands. The palace hums with growing panic over the missing Crown Prince.
Only Byzu remains, massive and motionless in the corridor. His head turns, gaze sweeping back toward my hiding place.
My lungs freeze mid-breath.
His eyes pass over me, then stop. Return.
I don't breathe. Don't twitch a muscle.
But he approaches. He halts before the statue. My pulse stops dead. His head rotates with excruciating slowness while seconds stretch like taffy. The air congeals around me. Heat climbs my throat. His golden eyes flash white-hot.
“Found you,” he murmurs.
Gods, no?—
His hand rises before I can process it. Fire erupts with blinding intensity. I lunge sideways. The blast slams into stone as acrid smoke invades my lungs. I tumble, roll, spring upright, and flee.
“I thought I caught your scent before. Last night too!” Byzu hisses behind me.
I sense the next fireball coming.
Pure instinct takes over—I fling my shadow cloak backward. Dark energy engulfs the flames, extinguishing them with a smoky hiss before retracting into my fingertips.
I stare, stunned.
Byzu's expression mirrors my surprise, but I don’t pause longer. I bolt.
The service stairwell beckons just ahead. If I reach it, cut through to the stone garden, I might disappear into the city. I sprint without hesitation.
Byzu pursues. “Stop running, little shadow,” he calls. “We could…talk.”
“Hard pass!”
I careen down the stairs, nearly breaking my neck. Orange light floods the passage as Byzu hurls another flame, but the cramped space works in my favor. I burst through the exit, wincing as heat licks my skin from his near-miss.
But he won't quit.
“Don't be a fool, Esme!” he growls, conjuring a massive fireball between his palms. “You can’t outrun me.”
I'm only halfway across the stone garden, the service gate still too far away.
I zigzag between towering statues—ancient dragon-kings carved from black limestone, their wings spread wide, veins of gold and crimson minerals threading through the stone like frozen fire. These are the ancestors Byzu wants to honor by reclaiming the surface world.
My foot catches on uneven flagstone. I sprawl forward just as flames roar overhead, singeing my hair. The stench of burnt keratin fills my nostrils as I pat out smoldering strands.
Byzu's footsteps echo closer. “You can't escape me, Esme.”
“Want to test that theory?” A male voice cuts through the garden.
My head snaps up, heart leaping with impossible hope—Dayn?
