Page 175 of Split or Swallow

“Where are we going?”

“Patience, Tem.”

“I can’t take any more surprises, Caspen.”

He didn’t reply.

They wound deeper and deeper beneath the mountain, passing doorway after doorway. It was impossible to know how time functioned here—nothing to tell her whether the sun or the moon was above them.

Caspen?

He squeezed her hand.

Tem?

Is this where you spend your time?

Sometimes. I also venture outside to hunt. But yes, beneath the mountain is where I dwell.

Tem’s eyes began to adjust to the stark darkness.

How much further?

It is not far. I promise.

True to his word, they stopped a few minutes later.

They were standing at the entrance of an enormous room. Great stone arches curved above their heads into endless blackness above. Tem tried to look up at the ceiling, but even when she squinted, she couldn’t see it.

“Where are we?”

Instead of answering, Caspen guided her forward.

Tem shivered as they walked along the cold stone floor. Unlike Caspen’s chambers, which were warmed by his fireplace and his own body heat, this place was cold: she felt the undeniable pull of death here. Tem curled herself against Caspen.

“Almost there, Tem.”

She followed his lead, foraying even deeper into the darkness. Finally, they reached what appeared to be the center of the room. Caspen stopped, and Tem stopped too.

Before them stood a great stone monolith.

It disappeared up into the ether, far beyond what was visible to her human eyes. Even when Tem craned her neck, she couldn’t see the top.

“What is this?” she whispered.

Caspen’s hand tightened in hers.

“It is a memorial.”

Tem could just make out etchings on the stone—etchings that looked like names. She squinted, attempting to read the carved words.

“Who are they?”

Caspen didn’t respond, and Tem didn’t ask him to. She stepped closer, peering at the names on the great stone slab, all recorded with complete precision.

With a jolt, Tem recognized a single word: Drakon.

“Your quiver…” she said, stepping even closer.