She grabs my arm. “In Spring, you are often gifted your first piece of armor for an act of selflessness. I heard what you did in Autumn. Now, having met you myself, I can see you are deserving of the steel of Spring.”
In her hand, she reveals a metal bracer overtop a woven leather piece, meant to tie around the wrist. The metal itself is silver and smooth, with the edges gilded in a floral pattern.
“It’s nothing fancy,” Tilla says, expertly tying it around my wrist. “But it’ll last you a lifetime and stop those pesky welts on your arm.”
“Thank you.” I hold it up, the metal catching the red fire of the forge. My own armor from the Spring Realm. “How can I ever thank you?”
“You don’t need to—”
I pluck the white flower from the fish trinket Dayton bought me and put it on her anvil. “It’s no Spring steel, but it’s all I have right now.”
Tilla picks up the flower and gives it a sniff. “I have a feeling there are great things ahead of you, Rosalina O’Connell. And besides, you’re mated to one of the iciest bastards in the realm. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”
27
Keldarion
The mechanical lift stutters down into the darkness. I stand in my fae form beside my uncle, neither of us speaking. My heart pounds with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. I’m dressed in the heavy fabrics made specifically for the Deep Guard, which blocks out most of the cold.
I’m familiar with Cryptgarden, but the rest of the Below, I’ve only heard about in stories. Irahn’s stories … and Caspian’s.
Memories threaten to take over my mind: the feeling of nimble fingers pushing hair away from my brow, the teasing whisper. The dark hides things even a Winter prince should fear.
Gears grind and chains clink in a discordant symphony. Thankfully, Irahn begins to speak, tearing me from my thoughts. “This is a lost world, boy. In the Badlands, the elements conspire to torment both our body and soul. But it is nothing compared to the chasm. Only in our unity can we survive. Each step we take, each blow we strike, is a testament to our resolve to the realm.”
“It would be my honor to serve among the brave men and women of the Deep Guard,” I respond.
Irahn laughs, a sound as hard and grating as the gears. “Things like honor and glory have no place in the chasm. Chasing after honor will only bring you death.”
Torches flicker by as we descend. Deep Guard fae walk along wooden parapets, carrying swords, spears, bows, and knives. They’re armed to the teeth.
A strange sensation lifts through the pit of my stomach as we plunge deeper. I instinctively grasp the cold railing, seeking an anchor. Every level that goes by is marked by a jolt, a brief pause, before the descent resumes. The temperature seems to drop with each passing moment.
We shudder past a cave opening, and a roar sounds from within. I turn to my uncle, eyebrows raised. He shrugs. “One of the guards assigned to this level will handle it.”
“And what level are we going to?”
Irahn grimaces. “We’re going beyond where there are levels.”
I roll my shoulders and feel for the Blessing of Winter. A deadly sharp ice blade grows in my hand. Just in case.
One by one, the torches along the wall give out. Irahn strikes a match and lights a lantern attached to the lift. Now, there is only a dim bubble of light.
The seconds stretch into eternity. The jolts signifying various stops come further and further apart. Finally, Irahn pulls a lever; a metallic screech erupts through the air as the lift clangs to a stop on the edge of a rocky cave opening.
I blink. There’s light here, but not from torches. Ghastly green lines scar their way through the cave, leading deep into a tunnel. A green I will never forget: the same glow that came from the traitor Quellos’s crown. Was he truly harnessing the same magic that created this place?
Irahn is terrified of the monsters in this place. But I’m terrified of the magic that created it. Memories fly through my mind’s eye: green flames flashing in a purple gaze as Caspian weaves me a legend of a terrible god from beyond even our own stars. One that doesn’t just conquer cities, but entire worlds. Is this magic the same?
Irahn stretches his neck from side to side. “Won’t be long now. They don’t like the sound of the lift,” he says just as it clatters to a stop. Then he draws a broadsword from its sheath and steps into the cave.
“This should be fun.” I shed my clothing, the cold biting at every piece of exposed skin. Before I even have a chance to shift, a deafening roar echoes through the chamber.