Page 90 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

Let breath and blood combine.

I give and I take,

I bind and I break,

Till end meets end,

And flesh returns to ash and sky.

I recited the spell, each syllable foreign and harsh, like the crackle of a raging fire. The sound vibrated in my bones, in my very blood. And as the last word left my lips, I felt it—threads tightening inside my chest, delicate but unbreakable, latching onto something deep within me.

Kaelith’s essence surged forward. Power bled through me in a rush, her strength wrapping around my soul like a second skin. I gasped as her magic coiled through my veins, mingling with mine until I wasn’t sure where she ended and I began.

Visions flooded me. Not memories of my own—but hers.

I saw sun-drenched skies over Warriath, brighter than I’d ever known them. Lush green fields stretched endlessly, and dragons of every color soared above villages that looked untouched by fear. A golden age—one I’d never imagined.

Then the Dragon Isle—Kaelith and Siergen as fledglings, clumsy wings tangling as they tumbled and chased each other across cliff edges, their growls ringing in the air like music. My heart cracked with the purity of it.

The vision shifted—darkness, fire, screams. The first war. Kaelith’s scales gleamed with smoke as she stood over their mother’s body, Siergen’s bowed head beside her. Their cries ripped through me as if they were my own. I doubled over, clutching my chest, unable to tell if the sobs were mine or hers.

The images bled away, dissolving into a violet-gold shimmer that sank into my skin.

And then—quiet.

I staggered, breath ragged, and placed a trembling hand against my chest. I felt it—the difference. My soul no longer solitary but braided with Kaelith’s, luminous and eternal. Her power was my power, her memories part of me now, her grief and her joy inseparable from my own.

It is done, Kaelith whispered in my mind, her voice warm, fierce, proud.

An altar rose from the stone floor as if the cavern itself had been waiting for this moment. Black rock split apart with a groan of ancient weight, revealing a pedestal that shimmered with veins of silver light threading through its surface. It wasn’t carved by hands, not by fae nor dragon. This was earth-forged, born of magic and time, rough in places but pulsing with a steady heartbeat that made my skin prickle.

Atop it lay the pendant.

It glowed, a teardrop of obsidian caged in a lattice of veins that glimmered like molten silver. The chain shimmered like woven starlight, too delicate to be metal, too enduring to be anything mortal.

I swallowed, every instinct in me both screaming to take it and warning me away. The Hollow was silent, watching, testing. Kaelith’s breath whispered against my thoughts. Step forward, Ashlyn. It is meant for you.

I forced my legs to move. Each step closer made the air heavier, as if I carried the weight of a mountain on my shoulders. My hand shook when I reached out, and the pendant’s glow pulsed in answer, as if it were aware of me, waiting.

Fingers brushed it. The stone was warm, almost alive. The moment I lifted it, the altar shuddered before sinking back into the earth as if it had vanished.

I stared at the pendant in my hand, then slowly slipped the chain over my head. The instant the obsidian teardrop touched my skin, magic seared through me, hot and cold all at once. My breath caught, my pulse racing with Kaelith’s, with something older, something bound to dragons long before I’d ever drawn breath.

My voice was a whisper in the silence. Now, what do I do?

Kaelith’s answer slid into my mind like a hiss of flame curling through smoke. Now… we see if your mother’s defiance is strong enough to undo what Veralin has wrought.

Chapter

Thirty-Seven

The cavern pulsed once, as if the walls themselves had taken a breath. Shadows gathered, pulling together into a shape so massive my heart stilled in my chest. Gold scales caught the light of unseen fire, wings half-furled as though he carried the weight of centuries. Siergen stood before me, regal and terrifying, but his eyes—those ancient, haunted eyes—burned straight through me.

“Granddaughter of Veralin.” His voice thundered in my mind, though his lips did not move. “Bearer of Kaelith’s soul.”

I clutched the pendant at my chest, its weight heavy against me as if it understood the moment. “Tell me what I need to do. How do I free them?” My voice cracked, too small in the vast cavern.

Siergen lowered his head until his massive snout was only a few feet from me, the heat of his breath stirring my hair. “You cannot free them as you are. The pendant is the key, but only through your bond with Kaelith can its power be wielded.” His eyes glowed brighter. “Your soul is no longer yours alone. She has given you her essence, and in turn you must use that tether to pour life where Veralin poured death.”