The Carpathian Mountains rose against the night sky like the teeth of some ancient beast.
I stood at the edge of the forest, wrapped in shadows and the warmth of my pendant, and stared at the fortress that held my grandmother. It was everything Caspian had described—massive, ancient, carved from the mountain itself, its towers piercing the clouds like accusations.
"Two thousand years," I whispered. "She's been here for two thousand years."
"And she'll be here for two thousand more if we don't stop her." Kael's hand found mine, squeezed once. "You ready?"
"No. But I'm going anyway."
Beside me, Caspian was utterly still—the stillness of a predator, of centuries of patience, of a man about to face his greatest fear. "The passage is east, hidden in the cliff face. We'll have to climb."
"
