The Sleeper's Chamber lay at the heart of the mountain, deeper than any other part of the Citadel. To reach it, they descended through corridors that grew narrower and darker with each step, until the only light came from the faint luminescence of the runes carved into the walls.
Kestrel led the way, his movements sure despite the darkness. Pyre followed close behind, her bulk somehow fitting through passages that seemed too small to contain her. Seraphina walked between them, her hand never straying far from the knife at her belt.
They had been walking for nearly an hour when the corridor opened into a vast cavern—and Seraphina forgot how to breathe.
It was the place from her dream. The same towering pillars of black stone, the same impossible darkness that seemed to swallow the light. And scattered throughout the space, curled in peaceful slumber, were dragons. Dozens of them, their scales gleaming with that faint inner light, their breathing slow and deep.
"The Sleepers," Kestrel said quietly. "The most ancient of our kind. They have chosen to sleep through the centuries, preserving their power for when it's needed most."
"And now they're needed?"
"Not yet. But soon." He led her toward the center of the cavern, where a single dragon lay apart from the others. "This is the one you seek. The Sleeper who spoke to you in your dreams."
Seraphina approached slowly, her heart pounding. The dragon was massive—larger even than the Queen's black mount, with scales the color of dried blood and eyes that were closed in slumber. But as she drew closer, she could see something else—something that made her gasp.
Chains. Massive links of black iron wrapped around the dragon's limbs, pinning her to the stone floor.
"She's a prisoner?" Seraphina turned to Kestrel, shocked. "I thought she was one of you."
"She is. But she is also something else." Kestrel's voice was carefully neutral. "The Sleeper was once like you—a Dragonbound, bonded to a dragon of her own. When her dragon died in the last war, something in her changed. She became... unstable. Dangerous."
"So you chained her up?"
"We had no choice. She could have destroyed the Citadel—and everyone in it." He stepped forward, placing his hand on one of the chains. "But she is also the only one who knows the full truth of what's coming. The only one who has seen the Voidwalkers with her own eyes and lived to tell of it."
Seraphina looked at the sleeping dragon, feeling a complex mix of pity and fear. "How do I wake her?"
"You don't. She wakes when she chooses." Kestrel stepped back. "But you can speak to her in dreams, as you did before. Reach out through the bond—not to Pyre, but to the Sleeper."
Seraphina closed her eyes, reaching for the familiar warmth of the bond. But instead of seeking Pyre's consciousness, she pushed further, deeper, into the darkness at the edge of her awareness. She felt Pyre's concern, the dragon's protective presence hovering at the edge of her consciousness, but she pushed past it.
And then she was somewhere else.
The dreamscape was a mirror of the chamber around her, but the dragons were gone—except for one. The Sleeper stood before her in dragon form, her scales gleaming with that bloody light, her red eyes open and fixed on Seraphina with an intensity that was almost painful.
"YOU COME AT LAST." The voice filled her mind like water filling a vessel. "I HAVE WAITED THREE HUNDRED YEARS FOR THIS MOMENT."
"Who are you?" Seraphina's dream-self stood firm, refusing to show fear. "What do you know about the Voidwalkers?"
"I KNOW EVERYTHING. I KNOW THEIR NAMES, THEIR FACES, THEIR HUNGER. I KNOW HOW THEY CAME TO BE, AND I KNOW HOW THEY CAN BE DESTROYED." The Sleeper's massive head lowered until her snout was inches from Seraphina's face. "BUT KNOWLEDGE HAS A PRICE, LITTLE FLAME. ARE YOU WILLING TO PAY IT?"
"What price?"
"THE TRUTH. THE WHOLE TRUTH. NOTHING HIDDEN, NOTHING SPARED." The Sleeper's eyes burned with something that might have been madness—or might have been grief. "THE ONES WHO CHAINED ME CALL THEMSELVES THE PROTECTORS OF THE BARRIER. BUT THEY HAVE THEIR OWN SECRETS. THEIR OWN SINS."
"What kind of sins?"
"ASK YOUR PRECIOUS KESTREL ABOUT THE LAST DRAGONBOUND. ASK HIM WHAT REALLY HAPPENED THE NIGHT THE BARRIER WAS SEALED." The Sleeper's voice dropped to a whisper that somehow carried more weight than her earlier thundering. "ASK HIM ABOUT THE SACRIFICE THAT WAS MADE—AND WHO MADE IT."
Seraphina felt a chill run through her dream-self. "What are you saying?"
"I'M SAYING THAT NOTHING IS AS IT SEEMS. THE ASH COVENANT, THE TRAITOR IN THE CITADEL, THE COMING CONJUNCTION—ALL OF IT IS CONNECTED. AND AT THE HEART OF THE WEB IS A LIE THAT HAS BEEN TOLD FOR THREE HUNDRED YEARS."
"What lie?"
The Sleeper smiled—or what passed for a smile on a dragon's face. "THAT'S NOT FOR ME TO TELL. FIND THE TRUTH YOURSELF, LITTLE FLAME. AND WHEN YOU DO..."
She trailed off, something shifting in those ancient red eyes.
"WHEN YOU DO, COME BACK. AND I WILL TELL YOU HOW TO KILL THE VOIDWALKERS ONCE AND FOR ALL."
Then the dream was fading, and Seraphina was back in the chamber, gasping for breath, with Kestrel's hand on her shoulder and Pyre's consciousness wrapped protectively around her own.
"What did she say?" Kestrel asked.
Seraphina looked at him—really looked, seeing the lines of tension around his eyes, the careful blankness of his expression. And she remembered the Sleeper's words.
Ask him about the last Dragonbound. Ask him what really happened.
"She said..." Seraphina paused, weighing her words. "She said she would help us. When the time comes."
It wasn't a lie—not exactly. But it wasn't the whole truth either. And as she met Kestrel's golden eyes, she saw something flicker there—something that might have been relief, or might have been suspicion.
Either way, she knew one thing for certain.
The secrets of the Citadel went deeper than she had ever imagined. And somewhere among those secrets lay the truth about everything—the barrier, the Voidwalkers, and her own role in the drama that was about to unfold.
She would find that truth, no matter what it cost.