Elara's POV
The valley of the Cradle should have been sacred and silent. But instead, the distant murmur of the cult’s camp was a ugly stain on the twilight. The glow from their fires danced on the surface of the still lake, distorting the reflection of the majestic moonlit spire.
“How do we get to pass an army?” Rylan whispered, his usual gruffness replaced by wary awe.
“We don’t,” Lyra said, her gaze fixed on the distant spire. “My bonded, Aric, is inside the Spire of Judgment. He holds the inner way. The cult cannot enter, the old magic rejects their poisoned intent, but they can bottle him in, and keep everyone else out. They have been trying to break his will for some weeks now.”
“He’s alone in there?” I asked, a knot of sympathy tightening in my chest.
“He has been and is not a
