Fury Bound (The Wolves of Ruin, #2) — Chapter no 45

45

MERYN

he light dyes Anassa’s fur pale blue, as if we’re sinking into a pool ofT moonlight. It grows brighter the deeper we get. And the farther we descend, the thicker the air. It’s stifling.

I sink my fingers into Anassa’s fur.

“I don’t like this.” A pit of anxiety grows in my gut.

“It does not matter if you like it or not,” comes Anassa’s reply. “Focus on getting through it.”

I must, so I will—once again. The motto of my life.

Bizarrely, it comforts me more than gentle words ever could.

Even though this place is obviously ancient, the spiral stairs are wide enough to fit our wolves comfortably, which is only further proof that this place is meant for the Bonded.

The stairs descend down and down, impossibly deep. We’ve been moving for an eternity—accompanied only by the sounds of our breaths and our wolves’ claws clicking against stone—when we finally reach a landing.

It reveals a wider room carved from the stone of the island, pulsing with the same blue light. Ephyse growls quietly as he and Noemi pace toward the wall, glaring forward.

There’s a door. It’s circular and, like the door above, seems to be made of one solid chunk of stone. Instead of a poem, though, a symbol is carved into it.

The Kryptos symbol, as familiar as if it was hanging above the Kryptos common room back in Sturmfrost.

“Do we—?” I start, but almost instantly, the symbol blazes to life. It

catches with heatless blue fire, which hurts a little to stare at directly.

This is another test, then. Kryptos. Will Venna have to pass it alone? Or can we all do it together?

Then comes a dampening in my mind, as if someone’s thrown a blanket over my powers and wrapped it tight.

“Stark,” I say, checking in to see if he feels it.

But I can’t reach him. I can’t reach him.

“Anassa?!”

“I’m here.” She bumps her shoulder against mine.

I swallow down a bubble of panic. “Is… anyone…”

“There’s something strange happening,” Stark confirms right away. “I wonder…” I watch as he focuses on something, fingers twitching. “No. I can’t draw on my shadebending power. I’d try impelling, too, if we weren’t somewhere deep underground where a cave-in could be lethal. But I suspect it would be the same.”

Noemi nods. “I can still reach Ephyse, but that’s it.”

Venna, meanwhile, is staring at each of us, bewildered. “I don’t feel anything different.”

I look up again at the illuminated Kryptos symbol.

“Venna…” I gesture at it. “If your powers are still intact, I wonder… maybe you’re the only one who can get us through?”

Venna and her direwolf ease forward. Skaia’s ears are pinned back with caution, but Venna has a stubborn look on her face.

The moment they step close enough, the door rumbles and rolls to the side. The cold blue fire bursts again, making the rest of us gasp and step back. The fire streaks along the interior of the room to illuminate a large chamber before going dark again.

Strange, shadowy shapes are farther in, but as the blue light fades, I can no longer see anything but shadow.

Anassa and I move toward the door, but Venna flings an arm out to stop me. She dismounts and looks around her feet, and I watch her, unsure what she’s doing. With a yank, she twists off one of the small buttons fastening the cuff of her sleeve.

Flicking her wrist, she tosses the button into the room.

It sails through the air, the dim light of this place glinting on the copper.

Nothing happens.

Then the button lands on the stone with a distinct clink.

Instantly, four jagged pieces of stone rip from the walls and race toward it, smashing into one another and the button in a clamorous crash.

Each of the shards looks about the length of my forearm and deadly sharp.

“Well, that’s fun,” I say shakily. Nobody laughs.

Venna looks back at me, mouth twisting. “We’re going to have to be quiet, I think. I wondered… well, I assumed it’d be either that or rifting. In some ways, rifting would be easier. I’ll go first—watch me, and do what I do. And once we’re in…”

She hesitates, and I take her meaning. “We won’t be able to talk aloud in there, will we? You think the room attacks in response to noise?”

She nods.

I swallow. Great. Just when our mental communication would have been most helpful, we’re left without it.

It’s lucky Noemi sat in on my sign language lessons on the boat, I realize. She’s picked up some of the basics, and in typical Stark fashion, he learned the language already and is far better than I am.

Still, Venna quickly reviews a few key phrases with us, to be sure we’re ready for any instructions she needs to pass along. All of us can, in turn, mentally communicate any instructions to our wolves.

Venna leans her head into the room farther, bracing her arms against the doorframe, but then pulls her head out and takes a step back, frowning. “It’s too dark to see much farther than where the button landed. I think we have to just… go forward.”

We dismount. Venna shows us the slow, quiet way she steps when she’s trying not to make a sound.

“There aren’t really any loose pebbles or pieces of gravel down here, from what I can see,” she instructs. “So just put each foot down softly, rolling it down to the ground, and take it slowly. I’ll go first and can tell you if the terrain changes.”

Lucky the island’s magic saw fit to dry us all off. We’d all be making wet squelching sounds for days with the amount of water our leather boots took on.

Anassa and Cratos and Ephyse have moved off to the side and are clearly getting a lesson in stealthiness from Skaia. Their claws, I realize.

They’ll have to step differently to keep them from clicking on the floor.

Or risk losing a paw. I swallow.

At Venna’s prompting, we all check our clothing and packs to make sure nothing on us might jingle or clink as we move. We all removed everything unnecessary before diving into the icy waters of the sea, which helps.

We tighten straps and buckles around weapons, one of the only items we all did prioritize, swim in the sea or no.

Venna and Skaia step up to the door. Venna lets Skaia go first; easier to sign back to us without her wolf’s bulk in the way, I think.

Skaia moves as soundlessly as a shadow. As a Kryptos wolf, she was born for this.

Everyone holds their breath. But the Kryptos pair are masters of their craft. Venna and Skaia move farther into the room without a whisper of sound.

Before they disappear into the dim gloom, Venna turns her head to me, then flicks her hand down and across to say: “Follow me.”

Anassa and I creep in next, then signal back to Noemi and Ephyse. Stark and Cratos bring up the rear.

Venna and her wolf move at an agonizingly slow pace. I never could have been Kryptos, I reflect wryly. I’m much more suited for running headlong at problems, rather than coming up on them slowly and carefully.

Probably something I could work on.

Venna and Skaia look in every direction as they move, somehow able to spot the best terrain in the dim light that grows ever dimmer.

I get a flashback to the Ascent, Venna helping us navigate through tricky patches of ice. The memory is bittersweet, Izabel’s fierce determination bright in my memory.

Venna got us through that time. She’ll get us through now.

I realize I’m holding my breath and let it out slowly and quietly. The light gets lower and lower, but luckily, I can still make out Venna stopping short ahead of me.

My heart drums loud in my ears in the strangely silent space.

Venna swivels around and signs: “Something ahead.”

My skin prickles, and I strain my eyes trying to see the space ahead of us. But the gloom around us is almost complete; the blue glow has dimmed, and even Venna and Skaia are just shadowy forms ahead of me in the

darkness.

“Skaia will still be able to see,” Anassa reassures me. “Kryptos warriors train for this—their wolves often have keener night vision than that of the other packs, and they learn to operate as the eyes and ears for their riders.”

All well and good for them. But what about the rest of us?

We all wait in silence, motionless, for Venna and Skaia to move ahead.

Venna finally signs back to me, motions exaggerated so I can make them out, “Up and to the left is clear.”

I relay the message back to Noemi. Venna and Skaia start moving ahead, and Anassa and I follow. Anassa does her best to share her superior vision with me as well, though we’re unpracticed at the skill.

Soon, though, the space is too dark even for her. We come to a stop, and I wait for Venna to notice that we’ve halted since I can’t shout ahead.

What if she doesn’t realize? What if she leaves us here, and we’re stranded forever in this darkness?

I know that it’s not logical, that Venna would never abandon us. But still, my chest tightens in that familiar place where my panic lives. Like a giant hand grabbing onto the top of my lungs and squeezing. I struggle to keep my breathing quiet and even.

The space around us is so black. Endlessly black. So much like that nightmare realm where Killian torments me. At the thought, I can almost see his face, swimming up at me out of the darkness.

His mouth in a confident leer. His eyes, that eerie blue, staring at me… “Slow down,” Anassa thinks to me, opening herself up until the rhythm of her own breath washes into me. Steady, even. I try to match it. My panic subsides, just a little.

Then from up ahead, around Venna, I start to see a faint blue glow.

What on earth… ?

Venna’s face becomes visible, and I see her look of intense concentration. She’s doing this, then. Somehow.

She sends the light behind herself and forward to provide some illumination to Skaia.

It’s not much, but it’s enough. We start up again.

The path she lights for us is winding, and multiple times I only see massive rock formations when they’re already right next to me. Like huge

ships sailing right up to us in the gloom. One wrong step and one of us will crash into the rock.

Some of the obstacles are sheer and shiny, like walls of black gemstones. Others are studded with spikes as sharp as a direwolf fang and five times as long.

In the strange light, it looks like the spikes are reaching for us. I shudder and pause until the sensation passes, not trusting myself to move silently until I regain my focus.

Throughout, Venna’s steps are sure and even. I focus on her slow progress, the careful way she places her feet, and mimic.

Twice, Venna pauses and says in sign language: “Get down.”

The first time, the direwolves just have to duck down to avoid disturbing a fragile-looking series of stalactites above us. It’s uncomfortable, watching them hang their heads low, but we get through it unscathed.

Then a minute or so later, Venna gives the signal again, along with another word I don’t catch. I strain to remember the sign she’s making and then remember when I see what’s ahead: a tunnel.

Fuck.

I carefully signal back behind me, making sure Noemi and Stark and their wolves are prepared.

Anassa gets right up to it before realizing she’s not low enough to the ground. My body is tight as a bow as I watch her carefully move backward again so that she can get into position.

She crouches so low the fur on her belly brushes the ground as she moves. I let her go first so that she can move at her own speed in there.

Gulping, I decide it’ll be easiest to crawl as well. I ease myself carefully, so carefully, onto hands and knees, and then I inch forward. My heart is in my throat the entire way through.

If there’s any disturbance, if any of the wolves forget and lift their heads… My ears play tricks with me, creating sounds when there are none. The meager blue light goes fuzzy in my eyesight.

My hands tremble, and I keep all my focus on my movement. Slowly, slowly. One inch at a time.

Finally, the tunnel ends, and we’re able to straighten.

Glancing up and past Venna, then, I think I can make out a door—yes,

it’s an open doorway, and now Venna is passing through, now Skaia— We’re all through a few moments later, breathing hard and brushing ourselves off. After the silence of the room behind us, our relieved breathing sounds loud and wild.

“Venna?” I reach out experimentally, and yes, the mental connection forms this time. Must be because the task is complete?

She looks at me, and only when I’m beside her do I realize she’s shaking. I reach out and take her hand. “Thanks.”

She huffs a breath and nods. “I nearly threw up.”

I hug her arm to my chest briefly. “You got us through that. You were

amazing.”

Her eyes soften slightly.

“What was that blue light?”

She hesitates. “It’s… something I’ve been experimenting with, now that our powers have gone a little crazy. I still bend the shadow, like when I’m rifting, but instead of calling it toward me I’m pushing it away, so that any ambient light nearby rushes in.”

I shake my head. “That’s genius. Have you heard of any Kryptos ever doing that before?”

Before she can reply, the room we’re in erupts with burning red light. I jolt and cling to Venna’s arm. When I face forward, the Daemos symbol is burning with unnaturally red fire on the doorway.

And just like that, our mental link is broken. My magic is dampened down once more.

Cratos steps forward, a black silhouette against the bloody light. Stark looks back at us. “Ready?”

“That seems like a question you have to answer,” I reply.

His jaw ticks, and he turns without hesitation, approaching the door. It grinds open just the same, making my bones rattle. The chamber it reveals is similarly empty, long and narrow, but this time, we can see the opposite side. The far wall has another heavy stone door at its center. And it’s shut.

“Seems like we’ll have to figure out how to open that,” Noemi whispers.

“Daemos magic,” Venna says, following after Stark. “Maybe you’ll have to knock it down.”

“Without knocking the whole tower down on us?” I exclaim.

“Bad idea,” Anassa confirms.

“Quiet,” Stark says. He’s reached the center of the room now. He mounts Cratos, and the two of them do a lap of the room together. The red fire flickers around us, refusing to grant us any warmth. I shiver and look

around the room, confused.

“You don’t sense anything?” Venna asks.

“No,” Stark replies.

“Wait,” I say, and turn. I squint up at the space above the passageway we just came from. “There’s writing above the doorway.”

The moment I say so, the door we walked through grinds shut behind us.

My heart rate picks up again.

We’re entirely closed in now, trapped in both directions. The wolves growl and shift around nervously, tails flicking and eyes flashing. They’re made for wide-open spaces, not tiny, cramped rooms.

Venna reads the words aloud. “Strength is fire, and loyalty light—both make the hand that wins the fight.”

Instantly, the red fire catches brightly and climbs up the bare stone. It shouldn’t be possible. There’s no fuel for it to burn with. But then, none of this should be possible.

I watch in somewhat terrified awe as the fire starts to carve tens of

symbols all along the walls.

They’re all hands in various positions.

A fist striking down, crushing a broken helm.

An open palm facing outward, as if begging for peace.

A hand holding a small, round mirror.

A hand engulfed in fire, rising high.

Two hands clasped together tightly, chained together at the wrists.

One is holding a crown tight enough to bleed.

“I think we’ll have to choose one,” I say.

There’s a rumbling sound from beyond the walls, deep in the stone.

Beside me, Anassa tenses and turns. The flaming walls are pressing closer, dragging and scraping toward us at a steady speed.

“Stark!” I scream.

“We have to choose fast!” Venna shouts.

But he’s already acting. A pulse of his magic shatters through the room.

His fists strike out on either side of him, and his strength slams against the stone. They groan and shudder, but Stark’s power holds strong. They’re

only barely drawing closer now.

“Anassa, help him!” I plead.

Anassa moves first, then all our wolves throw themselves against the walls to help slow the crushing press of the stone around us. The rest of us immediately start scanning the symbols.

Stark lets out a growl, glaring forward, already breathing hard. The presence of so much of his magic in an enclosed space makes my ears pop and my eyes sting. His impelling strength channels in a deadly current above my head.

“It’s the hands clasped together. Right? Loyalty!” Noemi cries.

“What?!” Venna spins to look at Noemi’s face.

Noemi points at the symbol she means. “Do I touch it?”

“Wait, don’t! The chain makes it seem unwilling,” Venna says hurriedly.

My eyes scan over the symbols, trying to find one that makes sense.

Strength. Loyalty.

We need a symbol that represents both. But there are so many, and my heart is beating too hard for me to think. I can’t focus on anything other than the pained sounds Stark is making.

“Meryn, this one?” Venna shouts, hand hovering over a symbol I can’t even make out.

My eyes are on Stark. He can’t hold out forever. I need to act. I need to help him.

“Work faster,” Stark growls. His arms are starting to shake against the strain. He’s the strongest Daemos alive, but even he has limits.

The walls start to win the fight against Stark. He screams in pain and bends over. His magic pummels through the room, turning my insides to paste. I sob, the panic gripping me in earnest.

And then I realize. Stark is staring at me. His dark eyes are on me, burning as though I’m the source of all this strength. He’s drenched in sweat. His features are set in a furious grimace. But his eyes are all mine.

Loyalty.

“It’s…” I stagger back. “It’s a crown. Find a crown!” Venna rushes to the one of a hand clenching a crown tight. And I cry out, “Not that one!”

It’s no different from the bound wrists. No, Stark would never hold me so tightly that I couldn’t breathe.

A true Daemos is still a member of his pack, subject to his Alpha, loyal

to his leader even when his strength burns brighter than the rest. Stark is… There’s another crown positioned above an open hand, palm up, fingers spread. An offering.

My fingers slip into its fire, an odd tingling sensation where it touches me heatlessly. Instantly, the walls fall silent and stop their ominous advance.

There’s a brief moment of suspense, then they start to retreat to their original positions.

And with them, the door opposite the entrance yields.

All the fire dissipates, replaced by the soft red glow.

I wipe shakily at the tears on my face and rush to Cratos’s side. Stark is slumped over his back, breathing hard, arms shaking.

“Hey. Hey,” I beg, and touch his leg.

He lets himself slip from Cratos and stumbles to land on his feet. I grunt as I catch him, straining against his weight. But I don’t care. I wrap my

arms around him and hold him up.

“I’m fine,” he pants. “We should move.”

“Two seconds,” I say. “We’ll call it an order, loyal Daemos.”

He huffs a weak breath, and his fingers tremble on the back of my neck.

Reluctantly, I part from him. I run my hands up along his arms to reassure myself, then I turn to the others.

“Sorry,” I say awkwardly.

Noemi grins. “It’s fine.”

“You didn’t smolder at me after my trial,” Venna teases, and I smack her as I walk past her to mount Anassa.

Cratos lowers himself slightly for Stark, and I hear him curse to himself when his arms don’t entirely bring him all the way up on his first attempt.

Once he’s mounted, he scowls at me for watching him to make sure he’s fine. I roll my eyes at him as Anassa and I walk past.

We move together through the door. There’s yet another chamber, this one with a set of more spiraling stairs leading downward. I roll my head on my shoulders and urge Anassa farther into the depths.

After a few minutes of spinning stairs, we step down into a circular landing. This one looks more like a natural cave formation, maybe because of how deep we’ve come. The light is slightly different here.

The symbol on the door catches with golden flame. Phylax.

Noemi and her wolf creep forward slowly, but she doesn’t jump when

the door starts opening for her. The chamber she reveals is vastly different from the other two.

I follow her out onto a ledge. “Oh shit,” I breathe out when I see the chamber. How is this possible?