Page 79 of Hearts Lost

The room tilts around me. Ithronel is trembling on the chair, her eyes wide, tears cutting glittering paths down her cheeks. The dragon’s arms are on either side of her, his ebony claws glinting in the lamplight, as the portal's strange, oppressive, oily heat pulses all around us.

Master Rensivar, my mother said. As in, Rensivar the Wicked. The dragon who built the barrier, who condemned the entire Kingdom of the Fall to live the rest of our lives in the Lands Below.

Of course. My parents aren’t sending trekkers through a portal for just any dragon. They’ve made a bargain with our captor, with the most powerful ally King Grathgore’s Kingdom of the Summer ever had. With Rensivar the Wicked.

“We found your magic,” my father says.

His voice is calm and level, the same as it always is when he’s discussing business. Rensivar’s massive, hoary head swings around. His blazing eyes fix on my father.

“An elf who can wield the powers of the void,” my father continues, in a tone that suggests he’s discussing how lovely the glowsoft orbs are this time of day. “Aloserin found him.”

What? Rensivar’s burning gaze pins me to the wall. Fear climbs up my spine on sharp, icy legs. Is my father bluffing? Is he bluffing a voids-damned dragon?

“Rowan,” my mother says.

“What?” I respond, the word exploding from my lips.

Mother ignores me and turns to face the nightmare dragon Rensivar the Wicked.

“Aloserin found him,” she announces, and voids, I hate the way my name sounds as it falls from her lips. “His name is Rowan, and he can control the void.”

The dragon’s mouth opens in a toothy grin.

“For a price?” Rensivar asks.

“There’s always a price,” my father replies, and he’s using that same damned tone of voice, like everyone is calm and we’re not speaking to the dragon who imprisoned our entire kingdom with his nightmare magic.

“Or a trade,” Rensivar replies.

The meaning behind his sly words explodes inside my skull like the blinding white flash of light that obliterated the teleportation hub. I leap forward, my dagger in my fist, but it’s like the air around me has turned to glass. Voids help me, I can’t move fast enough.

Ithronel’s mouth opens as the dragon’s claws close around her. She twists, turning toward me, reaching for me—

And then her scream cuts off as Rensivar the Wicked pulls Ithronel from the world.