Page 116 of The Dragonrider and the Void
Lark smiled grimly. “That’s my part of the bargain.”
Without further explanation, she turned and began picking her way across the devastated chamber toward the central well. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if she were walking across more than just stone. She was walking across the boundaries between worlds.
Above, through the gaping hole in the ceiling, she saw Venrick astride Ingamar, directing the dragons in formation around the Vermillion Keep. White Eye’s presence burned in her mind, his fierce determination matching her own. They were divided, yes, but united in purpose.
The Void Drinker noticed her approach, those star-filled eyes fixing on her with malevolent recognition. “The dragonrider thinks to recreate the binding,” it said, its voice carrying throughout the crumbling enclosure despite the chaos. “How quaint. How futile.”
It gestured, and tendrils of corruption erupted from the floor around Lark. Nix flared to intercept them, but there were too many. One wrapped around Lark’s ankle, burning cold through her boot. Another coiled around her arm, threatening to tear the Vaerdium from her grasp.
“Lark!” Hardin shouted, summoning a wave of water that crashed into the tendrils. Where it touched, the corruption hissed and steamed, momentarily retreating.
Sasja appeared at her side, knives flashing as she severed another tendril. “Keep moving,” she urged. “We’ll clear a path.”
Lark pressed on, each step a battle against the Void Drinker’s influence. The Vaerdium grew heavier in her grasp, as if it were absorbing the very magic being thrown against them. When theyfinally reached the central well, she saw it for what it truly was: a perfect circular opening into nothingness, neither stone nor void, a liminal space between realities.
“This is it,” Barrik confirmed, appearing beside her unexpectedly. “The anchor point.”
Lark knelt beside the well, placing the Vaerdium at its edge. Under her guidance, the metal began to flow, reshaping itself into a perfect ring that encircled the opening. Where it touched the stone, ancient runes flared to life. These were in the same dual script of dragonrider and fae magic she’d seen in the Northern Sanctuary.
“Now for the cardinal points,” Barrik instructed.
With his guidance, Lark directed the remaining Vaerdium to flow outward from the central ring, forming four smaller circles at precise intervals around the well. Each corresponded to one of the fae courts, taking on the characteristics of its respective essence: the northern point solid and unyielding for Winter, the eastern fluid and reflective for Spring, the southern radiant and warm for Summer, the western deep and mysterious for Night.
As the final point solidified, a tremor unlike any before shook the chamber. The tear above the well expanded dramatically, revealing a view of swirling energy where multiple realms collided.
“No!” the Void Drinker roared, abandoning its previous task to focus fully on Lark. “You will not bind me again!”
It descended toward her like a storm of darkness and silver light, the Realmstone in its chest pulsing. Lark stood her ground, one hand on the central Vaerdium ring, the other summoning Nightfang in a fluid motion.
“Hardin, now!” she shouted.
The bard raised his hands toward the torn sky, calling on his bond with Quinthara. A column of water materialized above him, spiraling upward to connect with the dragons circlingoverhead. Through this conduit of elemental magic, Lark felt rather than saw Venrick’s response: a surge of power as all the dragons, White Eye, Ingamar, Quinthara, and the others they’d gathered, united their strength.
Dragon magic poured down through Hardin’s waterspout, channeling directly into the Vaerdium matrix. The metal drank it in, glowing brighter with each passing moment. But it wasn’t enough. The pattern remained incomplete, the binding only half-formed.
“It needs fae magic too,” Barrik shouted over the magical tempest. “Equal measure of both, or it won’t hold!”
Lark knew what she had to do. She had known since the moment the Winter Court explained the true nature of the ritual. With her free hand, she touched the pendant at her throat, feeling Nix’s presence within.
“Nix,” she called. “It’s time.”
The fire fae materialized fully beside her, her flame burning brighter than Lark had ever seen, even in the fae realm. “Are you certain?” she asked, her voice heavy with knowledge of what would come next.
“I’m certain,” Lark confirmed. “My oath to Winter. My promise to both realms.”
Nix nodded once, then placed her hand alongside Lark’s on the Vaerdium ring. Fire flowed from her palm, not orange and red as usual, but in every color imaginable, representing all four courts simultaneously. The fire twisted around the dragon magic already filling the matrix, intertwining until they formed a perfect harmony of opposing forces.
The Vaerdium blazed with light. The runes carved into the sanctuary floor activated in sequence as the binding took hold. The tear in reality shuddered, its edges beginning to contract against the Void Drinker’s will.
“This changes nothing!” the Entity raged, its form beginning to distort as the barriers reasserted themselves. “I cannot be contained forever! The next Flashover will come, and I will be waiting!”
“Perhaps,” Lark acknowledged, her voice steady despite the strain of channeling such power. “But we’ll be ready, too.”
The Void Drinker launched itself at her in a final, desperate attack. But the Vaerdium matrix was now fully active, creating a barrier it couldn’t penetrate. The Entity howled in frustration as it was forced back toward the well, the Realmstone in its chest flickering with failing light.
“It’s working,” Barrik observed, genuine wonder in his voice. “The binding is actually working.”
Something’s not right,Lark realized.
