Page 121 of The First Scar
And there, resting in the hollow darkness within, something gleamed.
The Codex.
Its metal spine was dark and lustrous, carved with symbols I couldn't read. It floated up from the sarcophagus like an offering, hovering just beyond the threshold.
Thirty heartbeats. I'd done it. The vault was open.
But the fusion wasn't meant to hold while I moved—Dreadscale had warned me.Stay still, stay centered, or it fractures.
I didn't have a choice.
I stepped forward. The fusion wobbled—Light pulling one direction, Shadow dragging the other.
Faster.
Two more steps. My vision blurred at the edges. My hands were shaking.
Finally, I reached out and grabbed it. The moment my fingers touched the metal spine, cold shot up my arms.
The fusion cracked.
Pain exploded through my chest—white-hot, blinding, the feeling of something tearing loose inside me. My knees buckled.My legs gave.I hit the stone floor hard, the Codex clutched in my hands.
Behind me, the sarcophagus slammed shut with a sound like thunder cracking the sky.
Dreadscale hauled me clear, his grip iron on my arm, dragging me back from the sealed tomb like it might still reach out and swallow me whole. My legs weren't working right.
But the Codex was in my arms. Heavy. Real.Mine.
The crowd erupted. The roar shook the terraced seats, voices crashing over each other until they became a single, thunderingwall of sound. I barely heard it. My ears were still ringing from the inside.
Kaelen raised his hands, and the noise bent to him like it always did. His voice boomed across the amphitheater, rebounding off scorched stone.
"Witness the Scion of the First Scar!"
The Seer Twins rang their bone bells—an ominous chime. "The wound sings," they whispered, though I couldn't tell which one spoke. Maybe both. Maybe neither.
I'd done it.
My gaze swept the crowd—all those faces, flushed and wild in the firelight—and snagged on a figure standing apart from the rest.
The blood drained from my face. A hooded cloak, face lost to shadow. But I knew those eyes. Would know them anywhere.
Eryndor.
He wasn't cheering. Wasn't watching me with awe or fear.
The look on his face—eyes blazing, hands curled into fists at his sides—was pure, undisguised fury.
Then he turned and disappeared into the shadows. I didn't have time to wonder what it meant.
Serenya was already there, dropping to her knees beside me, pulling me into her arms, whispering things I couldn't quite hear over the roaring in my ears.
I held onto the Codex.
I held onto her.
And I tried not to think about the look on his face.
