Chapter 6 CHAPTER SIX

I must have fallen asleep on the floor beside the heavy oak door, curled into a tight ball against the drafts seeping through the stone. When I opened my eyes, the hearth had died down to a dull mound of gray ash, leaving the chamber wrapped in a cold, dim morning light.

I sat up, wincing as my stiff muscles protested the hard floor. The silence in the keep was heavy and suffocating.

Then, my gaze fell on the door.

It was standing ajar by a few inches, the heavy iron bolt retracted, leaving a narrow sliver of the gloomy stone corridor visible beyond.

I scrambled to my feet, my heart giving a sharp, hopeful thud against my ribs. Had Tirian forgotten to lock it? Was it a trick? I approached the door slowly, holding my breath as I reached out with trembling fingers and pushed the heavy oak panel open.

The hallway was empty. No guards stood stationed at the landing; no footsteps echoed along the cold flagstones.

Cautiously, I slipped out into the corridor, keeping my back pressed against the curved stone wall as I navigated the winding spiral staircase. My boots made no sound against the worn steps. The keep felt vast and cavernous, filled with the faint, whistling sound of mountain wind filtering through high archways.

I wandered aimlessly through a labyrinth of dark corridors and heavy timber doors, driven by a desperate need to orient myself, to find a way out, or at least to map the layout of my prison. The deeper I went into the keep, the warmer the air became. The scent of ozone and dry pine faded, replaced by a heavy, humid haze that smelled faintly of sulfur and crushed mineral salt.

HELP!

A sharp, shrill cry shattered the silence of the corridor.

I froze, my ears straining toward the sound.

Please! Someone help me!

It was a child's voice. High, frantic, and laced with panic.

Instinct overrode caution. I broke into a run, following the desperate cries as they echoed down a wide, vaulted archway at the end of the hall. I rounded the corner and burst into a vast, natural cavern bathed in a soft, steaming turquoise light.

It was a subterranean bath, carved directly into the mountain's geothermal springs. Massive stone pillars supported the jagged ceiling, and a wide, deep pool of crystal-clear water bubbled in the center of the cavern, thick plumes of hot steam rising off its shimmering surface.

In the middle of the deep water, a small boy was thrashing violently.

He couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old, his pale arms flailing wildly as he broke the surface, gasping for air before sinking beneath the bubbling water once more.

"Help!" he sputtered, his small face contorted in pure terror as he went under again, a trail of frantic air bubbles rising to the top.

"I'm coming!" I shouted, dropping my cloak onto the stone floor without a second thought.

I didn't care that I was in enemy territory, or that this boy was likely a dragon child. He was drowning. I sprinted to the edge of the carved stone basin and dove headfirst into the steaming thermal water.

The heat hit me like a physical wall, thick and heavy, but I cut through the turquoise pool with long, frantic strokes. The boy broke the surface again a few feet ahead of me, his small hands splashing frantically as he sank for a third time.

I reached him in seconds, surfacing beside him and kicking my legs to stay afloat.

"I've got you! Grab onto me!" I called out, reaching down into the water to wrap my arms around his small torso.

My hands caught him beneath his arms, and I hoisted his head above the water. Relief rushed through me as the boy gasped for breath, clinging desperately to my shoulders.

"It's okay, you're safe—"

The words died in my throat.

The moment the boy's hands found my neck, his grip transformed. It wasn't the frantic, weak clutch of a terrified, drowning child. It was a vice-like clamp of pure, unnatural iron.

His small, wet face snapped toward mine. The fear that had been contorting his features vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, hollow smile. His eyes flared—not soft, frightened hazel, but a sharp, molten silver that glowed with lethal malice.

Before I could even process the trap, the boy shifts his weight and slammed his full body down onto my head and shoulders, using the leverage of his position to drive me backward.

I didn't even have time to take a breath.

My head was shoved violently beneath the burning surface. I hit the deep water hard, panic exploding in my chest as I kicked frantically, trying to propel myself upward. But the child didn't let go. His fingers dug into the base of my throat and my hair with a terrifying, impossible strength that belonged to a monster, not a boy, using his weight and power to anchor me in the dark, warm depths of the thermal pool.

I thrashed against him, my hands tearing at his forearms, my heels kicking against the slick stone bottom of the pool. But the water surrounding me was a thick, heavy prison, muffling my muffled screams into a stream of silver air bubbles.

My lungs began to burn, screaming for oxygen as the terrifying, inescapable dark closed in around the edges of my vision.