I let out a dry laugh. “Trust me, the thought crossed my mind. But I’ve… needed him alive.”
“We'll unpack your concerning relationship dynamics later,” she mutters. “But they seem genuinely clueless about whatever conspiracy you stumbled into.”
Chad leans closer, voice barely audible. “What did you catch them plotting?”
“A return to the surface world,” I say grimly. No way to sugarcoat this. “Based on what I overheard at the palace, I don't think the king knows about this plot. One of his sons is behind it, maybe more. Dayn was supposed to be investigating, trying to stop it. If he'd just trusted me earlier?—”
“That fits with something I discovered,” Brynn interrupts, voice hushed.
We freeze as dragon guards march past our hiding spot. Their shadows dance across the wall, each footfall sending a tremor through my body. The city's heat presses in, building like pressure in my chest. Every instinct screams to run, to escape this underground prison.
Yet something holds me back from leaving Dayn. The realization unsettles me more than the dragons.
“Tell me,” I whisper when the patrol passes.
Brynn leans closer. “I’ve had this… thought, this muffled thought in my head for a while now. Ever since I came upon Helena’s notebooks in the archives. I don’t think it’s my thought, but rather… I guess an implant from her somehow. It sounds weird.”
“Not necessarily. Esther can do that sometimes, too. You can recognize a foreign thought if you pay attention.”
She sighs. “I think Helena’s been trying to tell me that there’s something about you and Dayn that’s important… The thought goes something along the lines of Salems and dragons… Salem and the dragon. The witch and the prince of dragons. On and on. I thought it was just my mind snapping under the pressure of the upcoming trials.”
“What trials?”
Chad tenses beside us. “Later. We need to move. More dragons approaching. I can smell them.”
“You can smell?—”
Brynn's nostrils flare. “Demonic senses. He can smell them coming.”
“We need to move,” Chad hisses.
I hesitate, then shake my head, the weight of my decision settling in my chest. “No.”
Brynn freezes mid-step. “No?”
“I can't. I can’t leave without Dayn.”
The braziers above cast dancing shadows across their faces—confusion, disbelief, concern.
Chad's jaw tightens. “He's their crown prince, Esme. He probably dumped you here while he plots the invasion with whoever's behind this.”
I shake my head. “No. He’s guilty of a lot, trust me, but not that. He thinks there's room for all of us: dragons, darkbloods, clearbloods. He’s not behind this war.”
Brynn studies my face, something shifting in her expression. “You trust him.”
“I do… to an extent.” The admission costs me, but it's true. “At least about this. And if Helena's message is right, we might need him. We want allies before we reach topside, because when this conspiracy breaks open?—”
“The dragons will follow,” Chad finishes.
I grit my teeth. Not the conclusion I’d hoped for, but the unavoidable truth.
Brynn steps closer. “Well, you know this place better than Chad and me. Lead the way and we’ll follow.”
I hesitate still, not wanting to drag her further into this. But I also know she’s too stubborn to go back without me.
And in that moment it hits me: the gap between my sister and me feels like it’s… vanished. I don’t have all the details of how we got to this point, and neither does she. But the universe bent and twisted so that our paths would cross again. I throw my arms around her and hold her tight, as tight as I can.
“Oh,” she quips and softens in my embrace, then tightens her own hold.
