Page 87 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

Gone were the dark spires and velvet skies I had once believed were real. The towering black walls of the castle, the glittering walkways, the eternal twilight—all of it had been an illusion. What stretched before me now was barren. The earth was cracked and ashen, a wasteland where once vibrant fields and glades had thrived. Dead brush clawed at the ruined ground, brittle and gray, its twisted branches reaching like skeletal fingers. The sea that lapped against the shore was thick with brine and black foam, the air acrid.

And the sky… for the first time since stepping foot on the isle, I saw the true sky. Pale and washed out, a weak light filtered through thin clouds, revealing the full devastation Veralin had wrought.

“This is what he hid,” I murmured, horror prickling through me. “He wanted us to believe this place still lived.”

Leyriam’s jaw clenched. “He wanted to believe it. His illusions were not only for others. They were for him. A coward’s mask to cover the ruin he created.”

We walked on, the crunch of gravel and broken stone beneath our boots the only sound aside from the dragons’ low, uneasy rumbles. Everywhere I looked, I saw remnants of what had once been homes, villages, sanctuaries—reduced now to nothing but rubble and shadow. Doors that led nowhere. Stone foundations swallowed by decay. I thought of the fae who had once lived here, who had once thrived here, and bile rose in my throat.

Kaelith’s voice brushed against my mind, heavy with grief. My kin once walked these paths. Hatched their young here. Sang to the Hollow in the days before it was corrupted. This was a cradle of life, Ashlyn. And he made it a tomb.

I swallowed hard, unable to answer.

Finally, after what felt like hours of trudging through the wasteland, Leyriam raised a hand and halted. Before us loomed a jagged rock formation, as though the bones of the earth had torn themselves from the ground in agony. At its base yawned a cave opening, vast and dark, the air pouring from it thick with the scent of iron and something deeper—something wrong.

Leyriam turned to face us, his expression grave. “This is it. The Hollow. The heart of this isle.”

The wind shifted, carrying with it a whisper that curled against my skin like a warning. The shadows clung too tightly to the cave mouth, thick and living, as though reluctant to let us pass.

Zander’s hand brushed against mine briefly, steadying. “Once we go in,” he said, his voice low, “there’s no turning back.”

Leyriam’s arm shot out across the mouth of the cave, barring Zander’s path. His pale eyes caught the last of the weak daylight.

“You cannot enter,” he said, voice solemn, carrying the weight of ancient law. “The Hollow will not yield to you, son of Alahathrial. Only the blood of Veralin may step into its depths and hope to retrieve the pendant. No other will be tolerated.”

Zander’s jaw locked, his hand tightening at the hilt of his sword. “Then I’ll bleed if that’s what it takes.”

Leyriam shook his head once. “It is not enough to spill it. It must be his bloodline. The Hollow knows the truth. It will devour you, as it would devour me. But her…” His gaze cut to me, heavy with something that felt like pity and reverence both. “His granddaughter may pass.”

A chill feathered through me, but before I could speak, he continued.

“And her dragon may not enter either. The Hollow rejects their kind. But your bond…” He gestured to Kaelith, where she loomed, gold eyes glowing in the twilight. “It will bridge the barrier. You may call on her power even within. It is the only thread that can anchor you.”

Zander’s voice burned in my mind before I could form words. Ashe. No. Not without me.

I turned to him, startled, but his lips hadn’t moved. His Dark Fire eyes met mine, and then another voice threaded through the bond, deeper, rougher.

We will be with you, Hein rumbled, his presence like stone and storm in the back of my thoughts. Even if our claws cannot cross that threshold, you will not be alone.

Kaelith’s mental hiss coiled around me, a steadying weight. I will not let you fall, Ashlyn. But you must trust me. Trust us. This is what must be done.

And if she doesn’t come back? Hein’s voice was fierce, his worry unmasked.

She will, Kaelith answered, with a certainty that shook me. She must.

I closed my eyes, breathing in the tether of all three—Zander, Hein, Kaelith—woven through me like a braid of fire, stone, and storm. It thrummed beneath my ribs, so powerful it almost hurt.

“I’m going,” I whispered, and when I opened my eyes, I looked straight at Zander. “Don’t fight me on this. Not now.”

His throat worked, but he didn’t argue. He only reached out, brushing the back of his fingers over my cheek, the smallest of touches. His voice filled my head again, raw. Reach for us if you need to.

I will, I promised, though the words tasted like ash.

Then I turned from him, from Leyriam’s grim stare, from the dragons’ restless shifting behind us. My boots scraped against the stone as I stepped toward the Hollow’s opening. The shadows clung tighter, cold and alive against my skin, but I didn’t stop.

I walked into the dark.

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