Page 123 of Skyshade
Oro moved carefully around the coffin. “Fire doesn’t work in here. Any flame is immediately extinguished, which means this room is visible only in the winter, at dawn, for just a few minutes.” It was aligned with the sun.
“We don’t have much time, then.” She took the tooth from her pocket. The moment it was freed from the fabric, it flew across the room, as if summoned, digging into the wall.
No, not a wall. A single page stretched upon it. The crimson red ink was faded, nearly illegible.
Carefully, she peeled it off the stone. Read over it quickly. Relief flooded her like an oasis in her bones.
“Does it have what you need?” Oro said.
She whipped around and nodded. “It’s exactly what I was looking for.”
The sunlight was already fading, its rays sweeping across the tomb. Beneath them, the metal glistened. Shademade.
Oro’s eyes locked with hers. It seemed they were having the same thought. He didn’t even know about Cronan, but he knew about Lark. “It can’t be opened. Many have tried.” Sensing her confusion, he added, “It’s rumored Horus had a relic. A bone from the finger of a god. Many have searched for it.”
The light was almost gone now. Isla didn’t waste a moment before cutting a line down her arm and smothering her own blood across her palms. She barely felt the pain, barely heard Oro’s yells in protest.
She pressed both of her hands against the tomb’s wall and pushed it open.
Oro stood still as a statue.
A body sat inside. Not bones, a body. The man was whole, his skin intact. He looked to simply be sleeping.
Horus Rey, one of the three founders of Lightlark. He had Oro’s golden hair. Sunlit skin. Straight nose. Sharp angles in his face.
“Is he...alive?” Isla asked. Was it possible all three founders hadn’t perished at all?
The man’s arms were folded across his chest, his hands stacked over his heart. Below them, gripped in his fingers, something was faintly glowing.
A bone.
Sunlight began melting from the room, as if drained. They didn’t have any time; but still, Oro hesitated.
“Take it,” Isla said. “It could help us against Lark.”
It could help her.
A moment. Two. Then Oro slowly reached toward the bone. Gently lifted it.
The moment it was out of Horus’s grip, his body became bones. The flesh turned to ash. He became a corpse.
He was dead, that was certain. Somehow, the power of the bone had preserved his body.
Quickly, before the light all but faded, they pushed the tomb’s top back on. The room was quickly drenched in darkness, dust, and decay. Oro grabbed her hand, and together they found its exit. They slowly inched down the hall.
Just before they stepped back into the desert, the sand began to tremble. Rise.
Oro cursed. “Another storm.”
They didn’t have time. She had to go, now. Her voice was a frustrated growl. “They happen this often?”
He nodded. “It’s why few have reached this place.”
“What do we do?”
He looked around at the entrance of the castle and sighed. “We wait.”
For an hour, they sat in near silence, staring at the raging storm. Slowly, Oro’s eyes began to close. He must be exhausted. They had spent days walking. He hadn’t slept the night before, and he had drained himself considerably to heal her.
