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Zephyr lets out a heavy exhalation that sounds like a sigh, makes a show of stretching his forelegs, and then reluctantly hops off the bed.
I grab my satchel from the counter, check the room for any other belongings, and when I find nothing else, hurry to the door.
I turn the handle slowly and am even more cautious while pushing open the door. I wait with bated breath and tilt my head to either side as I listen for any footsteps, no matter how distant. Even after waiting several minutes, I hear nothing except the gentle rhythm of Zephyr’s wings as they keep him midair and my own racing heart. I take the plunge and dart from the safety of my room. Zephyr follows me as closely as if he were my shadow.
While I have the sudden urge to sprint all the way to the dungeons, doing so will only raise more suspicion if I’m found wandering the temple in the dead of night, and I force myself to walk. I keep my pace brisk, but not too brisk that my footsteps are loud. And I’m grateful for that decision because halfway to the dungeons, we pass a priestess tending to the torches along the walls. I hear her strides long before she comes into view and have plenty of time to grab Zephyr and pull him around the nearest corner. I mutteralucinatus, blanketing us with aether and creating an illusion to blend us in with the wall. The priestess takes her time lighting all the torches, and I grimace as she lights the torch beside us. She comes within touching distance when passing between the torches on either side of us, and I try to calm the frantic rush of my pulse, half expecting her to turn and glare at us and demand to know what we’re doing sneaking around the temple. Thankfully she doesn’t, and it seems my illusion is flawless. Eventually she finishes lighting the torches here and disappears down the corridor and into the darkness. I hope no other priestesses are lighting the torches leading to the dungeons, since there’s nowhere to hide down there. My illusions can only be cast while standing still, so they will be of no use. Perhaps Natharius will know a more advanced version of the spell which doesn’t require being stationary. I’ll have to remember to ask him another time when I’m not busy trying to break him out of a temple.
I wait a few minutes to be certain the priestess is long gone, and then end my illusion spell and hurry toward the dungeon. My pace is slower than before, fearing we’ll run into more priestesses.
Luckily, we make it to the dungeons without being caught.
I race down the spiraling staircase, taking two at once. Now I’m not traveling in a ball of magic, I take thrice the time to reach the bottom, and when I do, I realize how dark it is down here without the pale glow of magic. I hold out my fingers and cast the spelliluminos, conjuring an orb which emits brilliant light.
The iron door is as I left it, with no sign of priestesses. Before I could penetrate it while in an orb form, whereas now I will have to unlock the door. And I don’t have the key.
A critical oversight.
I groan. As if all my plans are now in jeopardy because of a mere key.
I tap my finger against my chin as I consider my options. Teleportation is out of the question. Though I’ve been inside the dungeons while in my orb form, my physical body hasn’t and therefore, according to the laws of magic, I can’t teleport myself straight in there. I need to think of something else. But what?
I glance across at Zephyr. “Any ideas?”
My faerie dragon tilts his head as he thinks and then nods.
“What?”
He opens his mouth and spits a ball of aether at the door. Nothing happens when the magic reaches it. The spell is only small and the violet light soon fizzles out. Zephyr does the same again and jabs the sharp end of his tail at me.
“Use my magic to blast through the door?”
He nods.
“That won’t work. If I try throwing aether at it, my spells will only wake the entire temple, and then the dungeons will be swarming with priestesses. How will we get the Void Prince out of there then?”
Zephyr says nothing. He doesn’t look too concerned about the current state of my rescue plans. If anything, he looks pleased by the possibility we may fail to retrieve Natharius.
“No,” I continue, “I can’t force the door open through sheer strength, but I suppose using my magic isn’t a bad idea.” I step closer to the door and run my fingers over the hinges to inspect them. They’re strong and won’t easily give way. However, they are by far the weakest part of the door and the best place to concentrate my efforts. It requires flames of enormous temperatures to melt metals like iron, but luckily my tutors at the Arcanium taught me just the spell in my fifth and final year.
“Ignira.” Flames bloom from my fingers, amber as usual. I raise my hand and hold the flames to the hinges. “Incendius.”The small flames burst into blue light. So much heat radiates from them that Zephyr darts away. I press the flames to the middle hinge, level with my shoulders, and hold them there until the metal glows red. It takes several minutes before the entire hinge glows, and then I move to the lowest hinge, which reaches my ankles. I crouch there with my blue flames pressed to the iron until it too glows, and once done, I straighten and peer up at the final hinge. It lies half a foot above my head, so I have to stand on my tiptoes and try to reach the topmost hinge. My fingers come half an inch short. I groan. Not only has a key thwarted all my plans but also my height. I’m not short for a Nolderan woman, though I’m certainly not as tall as an elf or my demonic companion sitting beyond this door, anxiously awaiting his rescue.
I push myself a little higher, standing on the very tips of my toes. My fingers brush the bottom of the hinge. It will have to be enough. I focus on making the flames as powerful as I can, and they intensify, encasing most of the hinge. It takes longer than the others to become malleable, but at least I succeed.
By the time I’m done, the first two hinges have begun to cool, so I give them another blast of heat. When they’re glowing vibrantly again, I glance back to check no priestesses are racing down me and then nod to Zephyr.
“Stand back.”
Though the faerie dragon has edged closer to examine the hinges, for a change he obeys my instruction without question and twirls away from the door.
“Ventrez.”
A gale slams into the iron door. With the hinges weakened from the heat, the door lifts away from its frame, and I push it through into the dungeons and guide my wind to lower the door as quietly as I can.
I release the spell and hurry through. Zephyr flutters after me.
Natharius is as I left him, facing away from the entrance with his back pressed against the bars. Even as I approach, he doesn’t turn.
“Took you long enough,” he says.
