Page 5 of Bound In Stone, Claimed In Fire

We pick our way across the ledge, carefully hugging the wall. I lead, testing each foothold. Occasionally, I toss a glance over my shoulder. She trudges along, ignoring the small scrapes and bruises from the earlier cave-in. Despite her smaller frame, she manages well enough, though I see how her arms tremble slightly when she grips a ledge. Each time she wavers, a zing of the tether pricks my senses, as if warning me of potential harm to both of us.

When we finally reach a wider landing—an old observation terrace built right into the rock face—I pause to let her rest. My gaze drops to the runes carved into my chest, lines that glow faintly with every breath. I can feel the unraveling inside me, the warding magic I devised centuries ago now compromised. My mind seethes at the realization that Nerezza may already be stirring, that the darkest part of my history is no longer buried.

I sense Sariah’s eyes on me. She takes a tentative step closer, one hand braced against the rock wall. “You keep mentioning her.”

“Who?” I huff, though I suspect her meaning.

She swallows. “The purna you sealed away. The reason for your sacrifice. You said she was an abomination.”

My heart twists with memories I’d rather leave entombed. “Her name,” I say, each word clipped, “is Nerezza. Once upon a time, I loved her.” I don’t elaborate, but the rawness in my voice betrays me. “That was before she became the Nyxari. Before she tried to exterminate my people and twist Protheka’s magic to her own ends.”

Her expression softens a fraction, though she doesn’t offer platitudes. Good. I don’t need them. Compassion from a purna is a bitter echo of what I once knew.

A gust of wind whips between us, and she shivers violently.She’ll freeze in this climate if we linger.I scan the horizon. The savage beauty of Prazh’s mountains is evident, the ridges and peaks stretching endlessly under the moon. Far below, I spot a rocky valley that might offer some shelter from the winds. “We should keep moving,” I say, flicking my tail for emphasis.

She inclines her head. “Lead the way.”

The descent is harrowing. The ancient path crumbles in places, forcing us to hop between ledges. My wings occasionally flare, catching the wind to keep me balanced. Each time I extend them, a pulse of pain shoots through my shoulders, but I grit my teeth and carry on. At one point, the path narrows so severely that Sariah has to press her back against the rock. She stares down at the lethal drop with a shaky exhalation.

“Just keep going,” I tell her, voice tight. She nods, forging ahead, letting me stand behind her in case the footing gives way. The tether’s strange tension coils between us, reminding me that her danger ismydanger.

Eventually, we reach a plateau that levels out into a stretch of rocky ground half-buried in snow. Sparse vegetation clings to life here—gnarled shrubs bent under the wind’s assault, patches of frost-laden grass that no sensible creature would bother grazing on. Dark shapes of distant mountains loom, outlined in starlight.

Sariah exhales, shoulders dropping as she takes stock of our surroundings. “We made it,” she murmurs, hugging her cloak around her. Her cheeks are flushed from cold and exertion, silver highlights in her hair catching the moon’s glow. Shadows under her eyes speak of exhaustion. I can’t blame her. If she’s been running from a mentor who wants her dead, then awakened me, she must be spent.

I spot an outcropping of rock a short distance away that could provide partial shelter from the wind. “Over there,” I say, striding toward it. “We’ll rest for a moment. Then we can figure out where you plan to go.” I make no effort to hide my hostility—I have no intention of traveling with her longer than necessary. Yes, the tether complicates matters, but I want to sever it, or at least unravel the magic.

We huddle beneath the jutting stone. The wind is somewhat weaker here, howling overhead instead of lashing directly into us. Sariah drops to a crouch, rubbing her hands together for warmth. I glance around, scanning for any sign of roving predators or other threats. The hush of the night is intense, broken only by the hiss of wind and Sariah’s ragged breathing.

After a pause, she speaks again, voice subdued. “Thank you for helping me escape. You could’ve just left me back there, let the temple collapse on my head.”

Her gratitude leaves me uncertain. I fold my arms, letting my wings drape behind me. “I needed to escape, too,” I say flatly, but the tether throbs in my chest. I can’t deny that if she’d perished, I’m not sure what the bond would do to me. Perhaps it would unravel my magic further—or kill me outright. Better not to find out.

Silence falls. My gaze flicks over her features. Her eyelashes dust her cheeks when she blinks, lips pressed together as though lost in her own worries. I recall the moment I first laid eyes on her in the temple’s depths: dust spiraling around her, raw defiance in her stance. She awakened me without intention. She’s not like the malevolent force that once wore a purna’s face in my memories. She’s… different. But I can’t let my guard down.

I breathe in, letting cold air fill my lungs, then release it in a slow exhalation. The stars overhead sparkle fiercely, unaffected by mortal struggles. My own struggle is far from over. Nerezza is stirring, and I have to figure out how to stop her once more. But first… “We need to address this tether,” I begin, gaze drilling into Sariah’s. “I feel your magic in my veins, and it’s… wrong.”

She closes her eyes, as if trying to center herself. “I sense it, too. I tried to pull my power back, but it’s locked into you.” With a small shake of her head, she adds, “Maybe if we find the right incantation, we can break it.”

My jaw tightens. “Then we should do so swiftly. You do not want to be bound to me, and I have no interest in sharing my strength with any mortal, purna or otherwise.” That last part emerges harsher than intended, but the truth stands. Everything in me rails against repeating the tragedy that happened with Nerezza.

She tenses, a flash of pain crossing her features at my words. “Fine,” she says coolly. “I’ll be rid of you as soon as possible.”

A bitter laugh leaves my throat. “Agreed.” But the tether pulses again, as though mocking our shared determination.

She blows into her cupped palms, teeth chattering softly. Her cloak is inadequate against the biting chill. Gargoyles can withstand far worse conditions, our thick hide and internal magic fueling our resilience, but she must be suffering.

With a short, exasperated growl, I shrug out of a tattered layer of cloth draped across my waist—remnants of an old wrap that survived my stone sleep. The material is sturdy, though worn. Wordlessly, I drape it around her shoulders. She stares, startled.

“What…?” Her voice hitches, uncertain.

I scowl, feeling odd at my own action. “It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. A shivering partner is no use.”

“I don’t need your help,” she mutters, but she pulls it tighter anyway, clinging to the meager warmth. She refuses to meet my eyes, though her cheeks flush deeper.

My tail coils behind me. Once upon a time, I would have been far gentler with a frightened woman. But that gentleness cost me dearly. I stare at the star-swept sky, letting my mind roam. So many questions plague me: how long was I truly sealed? What shape does the world take now? Has the war between gargoyles and purna continued, or have they found new battles to wage? And, crucially, how much of Nerezza’s old power lingers beyond the seal?

Sariah clears her throat softly, drawing my attention. “Kaelith,” she says, testing my name as if it’s a foreign concept. “Is she… is Nerezza truly unstoppable once she awakens? Can we reinforce the seal?”

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