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I bit the corner of my lip, my stomach knotted, but I stepped closer. One foot in front of the other, over silver and gold goblets, rings, and priceless jewels until I reached the base of the pile.
Breathing heavy, I glanced back at Sahlyn, who gave me a reassuring gesture. I wished he were next to me, and I could give his fingers one last squeeze. Despite our unsettled emotions, he lent me strength and comfort. He would still have my back in any situation, and he was still someone I could count on. That had not changed.
Sucking in a shaky breath and pushing it out, I began to climb. Over the golden throne, atop countless treasures, I clambered up and up. I had to use my hands and knees to climb steadier as things tumbled in my wake. But finally, I beheld the shining gilded sword. The golden dragon, its body and tail as the hilt, and its open maw was the base of the blade. The pommel was a familiar gemstone. Emberlite with its veins of flame. The length of the blade was hidden in the trove.
I took a shuddering breath, and my fingers inched closer. A humming erupted in the cave, and my heart pounded in answer. It was like a song in my blood.
I hesitated. This was powerful. Of a magnitude I did not understand, nor was I sure I wished to. There was sheer undiluted power in this blade. I glanced back at Sahlyn. Regardless of the distance, he was my lifeline. Not the dwarf that watched me with his body poised to cut down any threat, which I knew he would do without hesitation even if it put his own life on the line. I trusted Argen, but Sahlyn…
Our eyes met, and time and space ceased to exist. I saw pride and excitement and fear for me in his extraordinary thunder sky eyes. Sahlyn dipped his chin and put a hand to his heart. Then, with a bit of surprise, I felt him in my own. Our heartbeats synchronized—too fast, but as one. That momentous feeling was a comfort that surpassed physical touch. Our eyes held longer over the space of the chamber, and Sahlyn smiled. Slow, steady, and confident. That smile lit up his face and changed his features from sad to stunning. I didn’t want to assess what emotions played over his face—now was not the time.
I closed my eyes, took a calming breath, and turned back to the sword. With Sahlyn’s presence in my heart and the dwarven link in my blood, I grasped the hilt with sure fingers andpulled.
The blade whistled free with a reverberating whine that went up to my arm and heated my blood. The song in my soul erupted in an explosive tempo.
The song was ancient, of a time of unsung heroes and battle lyrics.
Then a vision hit me.
A misty morning fog snaked up over the mountainside as a bulky, dark-haired dwarf weaved his way on an inlaid stone path to the entrance of Mondu. But upon reaching the final cairn, he realized he was not alone. From behind a monolith, another dwarf stepped, and with him a crone, an ancient witch writhing with merciless dark power. Her power shivered out in fingers against the newcomer.
“Creedell,” the muscled, dark-haired dwarf said with a not-so-subtle hint of confusion.
“Cabro. Ye made it through the Wood.”
“Aye.” Cabro Lightfoot gestured to them. “What is this?”
“Tired of walkin’ in ye shadow.”
“But ye a king. There's no shadow, but ye own.”
“Nay, that is where ye wrong.”
And even when Cabro pulled his mighty golden blade free and held it up, he could not fight a curse. The witch weaved a dark spell around him. Creedell sliced his palm and flung some of the blood onto Cabro, sealing his fate. It all happened before the legendary dwarf could react. Shock slowed his movements, but understanding enveloped his features as the witch flickered in and out of the shadows, and then a fine purple mist curled up from the earth and married with the fog that slithered across the stone path and dwarven statues at the entrance of Mondu.
Where Cabro Lightfoot once stood, there was nothing but a fine silhouette of purple and ebony mist. Then a mighty roar of pain and heartbreak ushered up from the entrance of Mondu and vibrated the stones. A hurricane of trembling sent stone pillars tumbling, turning the outside of Mondu to rubble.
The witch turned to Creedell. “It is done. Now for our bargain.”
Creedell dipped his head, and together they walked back down the mountain.
Gasping, I came back to awareness, back to myself. Tears slid down my cheeks as I looked back at the dragon. Then my ears picked up the noises surrounding me, and I realized Sahlyn was screaming.
“Autumn! Are you okay? Autumn, answer me right now, or I will tear this place apart stone by stone.” A pause, and then, “Argen, why areyoustanding there like a fucking imbecile!? Help her!”
I shook my head, dissipating the rest of the vision. I held up a hand, needing a minute to wrap my head around what I had seen, and from Sahlyn’s panicked bellowing that held an edge that simmered against me. Hewouldtear this place down until he could reach me if I were hurt.
A shuddered breath escaped me, and I glanced at Sahlyn again. “It’s alright. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine! You—Are youcrying? What the fuck is happening?”
Sahlyn physically trembled from exertion as he tried to move from the threshold. I sucked in a breath and should have used the expel of air to reassure him further, but I just couldn't find my voice.
Argen finally made his way to the base of the horde and began ascending to assist me. I realized then that I was still leaning against the pile of shiny items, my feet firmly planted on the gilded throne of Creedell Fang, for I could feel its lingering evilness, its vile darkness of greed. I could understand why the dragon had it here as part of his treasure—consolation of a dead king.
And if that vision was true…
I searched the dragon for any sign. Its mighty head dipped, affirmation in the sound of the metal shifting. I swallowed hard twice before reaching out to Argen. His strong hands gripped me firmly, and he pulled me gently from the pile. He practically carried me, and I let him. Dwarves were strong. I had not appreciated that enough.
