Once inside, I darted along the walls until I reached the relative safety of an alcove—a little nook with a window. I slid behind the curtain, a little surprised that Farungal bothered with draperies, and closed my eyes. I wasn't about to blunder blindly around the stronghold; I wanted to know where I was going. So, I focused, searching for a feeling like the one Dal had given me.
There! A tingle. A pulse. Almost a roar.
“The Lion,” I whispered.
“What?” Dal whispered back.
“I feel the stone. Now, shh.”
I could hear his annoyance even in his silence, and I grinned to myself as I slipped out of my hiding place. I followed the roaring pulse deeper into the fortress, carefully pausing at corners to listen for footsteps before moving on.
Although the stronghold was relatively clean, it wasn't hospitable. I passed very little furniture and there was no decoration—no art of any kind. The walls were bare stone and the further into the castle I went, the colder it got. The pulse was taking me down, leading me beneath the fortress and into the earth, but this cold wasn't merely the chill of damp rock. My breath puffed in the air before me.
“What is that sound?” the Hawk Lord whispered in my ear.
Sound? What the fuck was he talking about? Then I heard it. “My teeth are chattering,” I whispered back. “Now be quiet. I'm below the keep.”
He went quiet. I went quiet too, clenching my jaw together to keep from making even that little noise. Because the pulse was stronger, but it wasn't alone. I sensed something else down there, lurking in the dark corridors. The lanterns that had lit the upper level were more sporadic here. I'd thought that a gift at first, but now, I wasn't so sure. Every patch of shadow became sinister. Even the wavering light from the few lanterns seemed to fear it. I slid through the darkness anyway, but I became painfully aware of my surroundings. Every tiny hair on my body lifted as if they knew we were walking into danger.
But no claws came for me in the darkness; I crept ahead unimpeded. Then light, brighter and warmer than the corridor lanterns, pierced the darkness. It seeped from an arched passage and with it came the pulse. I padded forward slowly, listening for any sound that might alert me to the presence of a Farungal. None came. Whatever was down there, I had managed to bypass it. I stepped up to the passage and found it barred by an iron gate.
Iron—this was definitely the place. The Fae, especially the Sidhe, have an aversion to iron. They couldn't touch it. That is, they could, but it wouldn't be pleasant. Iron weakens the Fae and represses their magic. It also hurts like a bitch, I'm told. They'd never be able to touch this gate long enough to pick its lock. But I could.
I grinned even as I shivered violently. I'd never been a fan of the cold, and I'd grown to especially hate it after fighting the Farungal, who seep cold like normal people give off heat. They are truly cold-blooded. Not like reptiles, who have to rely on external heat sources and can slow their metabolisms in colder environments. No, the Farungal literally have cold blood. Although, some say that they are cousins to the Sidhe, that the Farungal's animal forms were reptilian and then evolved into what they are now. That they practiced dark magic that forced them into their beasts constantly and altered them into evil things whose bodies create that famous Farungal chill. It preceded them into battle—a wave of cold generated by a large gathering of monsters.
But the chill in this room was only a remnant. So many of them had come here so often that they had cooled the stones and the earth surrounding them had served as insulation. It was like walking into an icebox. It felt as if there should be slabs of venison hanging on hooks in there. I glanced inside briefly, just to make sure no monsters were hiding inside, and there wasn't so much as a jug of milk. Nope, not an icebox, just a favorite hangout of Farungal. Yay!
I grinned grimly as the lock clicked, then slipped my tools back into my boot. The gate swung open silently and for some reason, that raised my hackles. But I stepped forward anyway, across the frigid stone, to a shelf chiseled out of the wall. Similar shelves lined the entire room with all manner of oddities upon them. Massive trunks stood in lines across the floor, doubtless full of more strange things. I didn't bother inspecting the Farungal treasures. I had a feeling they'd scare the hell out of me.
Instead, I focused on the shelf before me. The source of that roaring pulse was there, and the pulse sped up as if it knew salvation was in reach. I saw it immediately—a pendant like Dalsharan's. Its stone was a shade of gold too, but it was a paler shade than his, closer to lion fur than hawk feathers. The Lion Soul. The words rang through my mind as if a god had spoken them. I ignored the tremble in my hand and snatched it up. I was going to put it in my pocket but at the last second, I decided to slip it over my neck. I figured it would be safer there.
As soon as the stone came into contact with my chest, a burst of energy rushed through me. Vibrated through me. I gave a broken cry and fell onto my hands and knees. My whole body twitched, muscles going into spasm. My vision went strange—sharper but also less colorful. I drew in a deep breath and lifted my head to roar.
“Ravyn!” Dalsharan shouted in my ear; he sounded as if he'd been shouting for a while.
I gasped and shook my head. Had I been about to roar? In a fucking Farungal stronghold? In their frigid treasure room? What the fuck?!
“Ravyn!” Dal shouted again.
“I'm fine,” I panted. “Give me a fucking second.”
“What happened?”
“I got the pendant. It's safe. I put it on to—”
“You did what?!” he shouted even louder.
“Was I not supposed to do that?” I smirked.
“Great blessed Moon,” Dal whispered.
I lost my smirk and scrambled to my feet. “What?” I asked, my voice going panicked. “What did I do?” I pulled the pendant up, over my head urgently. A shimmering glow ran down my arms, following the path of the pendant as I lowered it. The glow seeped out of my skin and into the stone, then winked out. “Oh, wait, I think it's okay now.”
“You think it's okay?” he growled.
“I took it off and this glow left me.”
Dal was silent for so long that I got worried.
“Dal?”
“Get back here. Now, Corporal!”
“Yes, Hawk Lord!” I said automatically, the soldier in me responding to his tone.
I tucked the pendant into my pants' pocket and crept out of the room.
Chapter Eight
“One more time,” Dalsharan demanded.
We were in a cave somewhere in Alantri, halfway to the second stronghold I'd be infiltrating. I had gotten out of the first one without a problem—it had been ridiculously easily, actually—and ran back to where Dal was waiting for me. He'd already been shifted into his hawk form and had ordered me to get into the flight rig immediately. I got rigged up, and the Hawk Lord flew me across Alantri until he spotted this cave, halfway up the side of a mountain and inaccessible for anyone without wings. Only when we were secure did he shift, yank on his war robe, and start firing questions at me. He was stuck on one, in particular.