Page 37 of Blood Lord

"It's an equal chance of surviving or dying."

I nod, and I can feel how heavy the conversation has turned between us. "But I made it," I tease.

It doesn't bring about the light in his eyes that I was hoping for. He still stares at me with vague uncertainty, and he only murmurs, "Just keep the conversation on the dark elves. Don't delve into your personal life too much. Most vrakken never talk about when they're human."

I remember how he dodged my questions, so I nod. I will suppress my anecdotes and do my best to perform as an excited, new vrakken, ready to tell the Matriarch about all that I have seen on the surface that can serve her.

We spend the rest of the afternoon practicing. Raziel drills me, and not in the way I want. He stalks around me, commenting on the way I move and how to make it more fluid. He asks me questions, feeding me better phrases and adjusting my posture and facial expressions.

By the time night falls, he looks pleased, asking me questions that I answer well and flitting around me to see how I'll react to almost anything. Once he deems me ready, my heart starts to pound because I know it's time to go.

"Ready?" he asks me, and I gulp, wanting to shake my head no.

I fight it, though, as I take his head. "Ready."

"It'll be faster if I fly," he tells me, scooping me up in his arms, and I wrap my arms around his neck.

I'm a little giddy as he steps out of the cave and spreads his wings. I know that I've been his arms before as he's flown, but I've always been unconscious.

So, when he pushes off the ground, his wings beating steadily behind us, I let out a little excited shriek. He looks down at me with a smile before whispering, "Watch this."

Twisting, he barrels back down toward the trees, and adrenaline pounds through my body. I swear it looks like we're going to crash, but I know that Raziel wouldn't let anything happen to me.

Just as the ground approaches, he angles up, and his wings tuck in tight as we glide between two trunks. I feel the tingle of magic along my skin as we slip between the tree trunks, and as soon as we're through, he swings up.

We soar up above the trees, and I can see that we are on an island surrounded by the sea, and in the distance, there is a sparkling city. "That's Liiandor," he whispers to me. "This is where I first came aboveground. The portal can open in different places."

I nod, taking it all in, and he squeezes me tight. "Are you ready to go underground?"

"Yes."

I have to admit that I am excited as he lands between the trees at the edge of a cave. Raziel takes my hand, guiding me into the cave. I expect it to end, but as we slip into the damp darkness, he keeps pulling me forward.

It's pitch-black when we cross through the portal, but I've grown so familiar with the feeling of the air heavy with magic that I know it before I see a light. As we break out of the tunnel, my eyes widen.

It's nothing like where we were. I've seen the magic of the wildspont before but it was in a forest. To see it here, underground in the caves, I am in shock.

We are at the edge of a massive cavern, though I can see different tunnels branching off. There are vrakken everywhere, with wings and without. Some are walking and some are flying, and the walls around them pulse with colors and energy from the vrakken moving near them.

I thought all the vrakken would look like Raziel, but besides the pale skin and long, dark hair, no one does. They are all varying heights, and even the shades of their skin and hair are different. The darkness around their eyes also seems to be dependent on the person, and while some of them are standing around laughing, others are flaunting their magic.

There are vrakken in the air painting pictures and words with their magic. There are others wiping them out with fire. Vrakken from the ground taunt the flying ones as they send gusts of wind and fire at them to dodge.

And the rock around everyone seems to absorb the magic. The air feels like it is practically vibrating as the rocks shake and shudder with color.

I'm about to step forward, wanting to feel it all, when Raziel's arms lock around me. He scoops me up, racing through the cavern and toward one of the tunnels expertly. I notice how much attention he draws—or maybe it's me—and I bury myself against him. While it is nerve-wracking to be around such powerful creatures, I trust Raziel to protect me.

Instead, I watch the thick veins of magic in the rock pulse as he tears through, lighting up above him as if it senses him. He slows as we approach a door embedded in the rock tunnel, and Raziel lifts his hand, blue glowing at the edge of his fingertips as he draws what looks like runes in the air.

The door swings open, and he sets me down, letting me take in the massive living space. There's a pulsing pond in the middle that ebbs and flows, and the walls are made of shelves and full of artifacts. The ceiling is made of more quartz that glows, and the furniture here looks softer than anything I've ever been on.

"This is my home," he tells me.

I don't even realize he's walked away from me as I walk to his shelves, surveying dozens of objects that I have no reference for, when he comes back and holds out a pair of thin, black pants and a matching shirt.

"I think the others caught your scent, but these will help mask it. They're mine. They'll make you look more like a vrakken."

I scurry to change, and just as I come back, ready to ask him questions about what is on the wall, there is a knock on the door. Raziel swings it open, and a smaller male stands there, giving him a reverent look. "The Council has summoned you, Elder."

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