There were no sharp details of scales in the stone or the smooth spikes of frills and horns. It was just a jagged heap of stone that couldn’t have been larger than Setti.
My throat dried as I looked up at Casteel. His features were stark as he stared. “We’re sure that’s her?” he asked.
“It’s…her,” Reaver answered. His shoulders rose with a deep breath, and then he grabbed one of the torches. He neared her, lifting the torch. “If you come closer, you can see that it is.”
Casteel started forward, and I forced my legs to move.
“She wasn’t…well,” Reaver said, his tone flat, but his voice quivered. He cleared his throat. “She must’ve been weakened to…look like this.”
The light of the torch rolled over glossy, black chains—shadowstone. I followed the one lying against the flat gray stone. That was how I could tell where her head was. The chain encircled a thin section which I took to be her neck. Drawing closer, I could make out indents there that had to be her eyes and mouth. There were two growths along the top of the oval-shaped mound that I guessed were horns. The stone arched nearthe area of the torso. Wings, I realized. Wings pressed close to a thin body and even thinner limbs.
She was so small.
My gaze dropped to her forelimbs. Her talons were distinctive, the ridges of scales clearly visible there. I sucked in a sharp breath. Beneath her claws, I saw deep grooves in the earth. The horror that had been building inside me since I’d entered herrestingplace gave way to fury.
I pulled my hand free of Casteel’s and fisted both as the essence rose in me, thrumming unsteadily. I thought about the fact that the Knights’ and other Ascended’s quarters were so close to where she’d been kept for who knew how long. What she could’ve experienced down here…
Nausea churned, coating my mouth with a bitter taste as the corners of my vision turned silver. How could Isbeth do this? How could she doanyof what she had done? Gods, it was such a pointless thing to wonder, but I couldn’t help myself.Myflesh and blood was responsible for this, and I…
“I want to kill her,” I said, my skin humming as shame settled over me like the veil I’d been forced to wear. Mymotherwas responsible for this. “I want to kill her all over again.”
Casteel turned, curling his hand around the base of my neck. His touch felt warm against the coolness of my skin. “You need to calm.”
“I am calm,” I stated as a fine dusting of dirt fell from the ceiling.
He bent and pressed his forehead to my temple before I felt him brush against my swirling thoughts.You’re not calm, Poppy.His fingers moved along the side of my neck, working the tension gathered there.If this chamber caves in on us, we won’t be able to help Jadis.
The shadows started to rise, obscuring the aged bones and the pieces of worn cloth. I didn’t want the chamber to cave in onus. I wanted to bring the entirety of Ironspire down and turn it to nothing but dust.
“Poppy,” Casteel murmured. “Sweetheart?”
I inhaled with a shudder and turned my head to him. I could feel my heart pounding as I locked gazes with him.
“I know,” he said, and then I heard the whisper of his voice.I know you’re angry and horrified. So am I. But that shame belongs only to Isbeth. She did this, and that’s no reflection upon you.
His features blurred, and I slammed my eyes shut. Casteel was right. This was on Isbeth. And this wasn’t about me and my feelings toward her.
He brushed his lips over my brow. “Understand?”
I nodded, and the next breath I took eased the burn in my lungs.
Casteel lifted his head and slid his hand down my back, his fingers tangling in my hair. His steady gaze held mine when my eyes reopened.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He shook his head, telling me those two words weren’t needed, but he’d earned them.
Drawing in a deep breath, I turned to where Reaver waited. “So, I just need to touch her?”
“That’s what Nektas believes,” he answered, kneeling by the entombed Jadis.
Aware of Casteel following me, I walked forward and lowered myself to my knees. I looked at Reaver, only able to see the curve of his jaw through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
His chest rose with a deep breath, and he nodded. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t break the chains,” he said, his voice so quiet, but the pain in each word reached inside me and seized my heart in a fist. “I was afraid I’d accidentally hurt her.”
“I’ll do it,” I told him.
He turned his head to me, and I saw the pain I heard in his voice clearly etched into every line of his face. It was hard to look at.
