I followed Raek’s eyes as they darted to the pirate lord.
“It means ‘shadow,’ in Old Votruvian. Appropriate for you, I think?” Astraeus explained, eyes sliding to my hands and then to my chest, as if he could see the shadow that smothered my soul. His brows pinched for a moment. “We could try another dose.”
I turned back, my gut reeling at the suggestion. The buzzing inched toward unbearable.
“No. We’re close,” I muttered.
Carina’s wind followed my movement and pushed forward, the water falling away and revealing a steep hill.
“There.”
The sandy trench merged into a set of stone steps, leading to a small, round gate at the bottom. An eight-pointed star sat at its center, marked with the various symbols of the Bellators.
Vienah approached as I knelt in the sand, running my fingers over the markings. My dual powers stirred at our proximity to the bone below.
“This is Elvish,” Vienah said, noting two sets of script. “Do you know what it says?” she asked, turning toward Kresida.
The War Slayer knelt beside me, and her brown hands stretched across the snow-white stone. Her dark eyes slid to mine, and she pinched her brows before reciting:
“Life is nothing without it.
As small as a thought; as strong as the tides.
As quiet as whispers; as loud as thunder.
It exists in the light and the dark.”
“What in Tynan’s Hell is that supposed to mean?” Ronan blurted out.
“And what about this?” I asked, motioning to the smaller script at the base.
Kresida squinted and leaned forward. “Cast your weapons down. Honor opens more than doors.”
I frowned, running my fingers along the edge of the wide gate, feeling for any type of handle or lock. Tiny, round divots lined the outer edge of the circular door. No, not exactly round, butpointed, as if something sharp were to fit inside. My hands drifted inward, eyes scanning the various Bellator symbols circling the center of the door. Larger divots, like wide slices,were dispersed in a random pattern around the symbols. And in the center of the eight-pointed star, a shallow, round indent.
Astraeus’s men began to slide their blades along the edges of the door, attempting to pry the stone free.
“I don’t think that’s going to work,” I murmured.
“We don’t have time to solve a riddle,” Lord Astraeus replied, motioning for his men to continue.
They began to hack away at the stone. I cringed as small bits of white stone chips flew into the air, destroying the delicate filigree etched into the edges of the circle.
Wrong. This seemed wrong. I eyed their swords as they continued to hack away. The tips of their blades were too thick for the edges of the door. But…
“Stop,” I said, stepping forward, holding my hands up. “Stop! You’re not getting in that way. I know how to open it.”
Astraeus snapped his head toward me, dark eyes narrowing. “Explain.”
“Give me your arrows,” I said, nodding to his man in the back wielding a bow. He eyed the pirate lord warily, who gave him a cautious nod.
“It’s a puzzle,” I murmured, mind drifting back to Enya’s tomb. My heart squeezed for Drystan.
I eyed the small divots, looking strangely like stars. Could it be a constellation? I recited in my head as I counted out eight arrows, doing my best to recall the exact constellation alignment of the eight brightest stars on the day of the twin eclipse, eachSending.
“If the center is the sun,” I said, kneeling at the center of the door. I aligned myself facing the text, fingers sliding up to the top of the eight-pointed star. My finger slid into the uppermost divot above the star and over, before sliding one of the arrowheads into the divot. And then another, counting andaligning them in the exact position.Gods, I wished Drystan was here.
“What are you doing?” Astraeus demanded, yet his voice held a soft sort of awe.
