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“Vish!” Blake choked. But Kazmyn was already moving toward her. He staggered as a cough tore through him, then reached her side and lifted her up into his arms before she could topple.
“Zaira!” I gasped. “Do you know what to do or not?”
The Stone Keeper had dropped to her knees in front of the ring of stones. Her hands shook as she brushed aside the glowing ferns. Jaw clenched, she scanned the rune faces. Her fingers hovered over one stone, hesitated, then moved to another.
I met Blake’s eyes. Not reassuring.
“This one!” I looked down to see Zaira pulling out a small knife. She sliced her palm, letting blood well up, then dribbling the drops onto one of the stones. For a moment nothing happened, and I thought we were well and truly fucked. Then the rune lit up, and the forest responded instantly. As quickly as someone could close a door or blow out a candle, the spores stopped rising around us, and the cavern air began to clear.
I sucked in a deep breath. Around me, everyone else was doing the same thing.
“Visha,” Blake snapped, striding over to where Kazmyn was still holding the highblood girl in his arms. “Are you all right?”
Her violet eyes snapped open. She looked down, then shoved hard against Kazmyn’s chest. “I’m fine. Put me down. I was just …”
Kazmyn set her on the ground and grinned. “You’re welcome.” He lowered his voice, but we could still all hear him when he said, “Looking forward to tonight, milady.”
We had separated from the dwarven attendants that morning, so Visha no longer had a choice for feeding; she looked murderous. Visha started stomping off through the forest—just as the ground trembled.
A deep grinding sound came through the opening of the tunnel that branched ahead of us, like stone scraping against stone.
“What the hell was that?” Rodriguez demanded, looking back at Zaira. “Stone Keeper, care to offer up some expertise?”
“Oh shit,” Blake breathed. “Look.”
Two immense golems stepped out of the dark. Chiseled from dark gray stone and steel, the dwarven constructs were each twice as high as Hawl and at least three times as wide.
“Oh, come on,” Rodriguez whispered from nearby. His face was pale.
“You’re an academic, not a warrior,” Sankara told him, putting a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Hang back.” The combat instructor’s battle-ax was already out. He grinned over at Blake and me. “Truth be told, I’ve always wanted to fight one of these.” He rushed forward with a bellow.
Hawl was already leading the vanguard. The bear surged ahead of us all, their dwarven weapon swinging, catching the first golem on its forearm. Magda and Kazmyn looped around the golems from each side, knives out as they started to dart in and out like shadows.
“What the fuck is going on, Zaira?” I asked bluntly. “You turned the ward off.”
“The ward is off. The vault shouldn’t have summoned them. Not unless …” Her eyes snapped down to the runestones.
“House Mortis came this way,” I said slowly. “They would have used Sharma’s blood.”
Zaira pursed her lips. “Unwillingly given.”
“That doesn’t seem to matter much to the vault,” I snapped. “So, what? They set off some kind of alarm?”
“Yes. The vault must sense when a key is stolen instead of offered willingly. It allowed them through but punished them.”
“And now it’s punishing us,” I said grimly.
“Attack the heart-stone!” Kazmyn shouted in the distance. I glanced over at the fighters. They were holding their own. They even looked like they might be having fun.
“The challenges will be worse as we pass through each ward,” Zaira murmured. “More intense. More dangerous.”
“More dangerous than poisonous air?”
She was still crouched by the runestones. “Sharma’s blood may open the wards, but each one will demand more of him.”
“What does that mean?” Rodriguez asked, coming up beside us.
The Stone Keeper’s face was bleak as she stood up. She held something gingerly—a severed hand dangled from her grasp. Broad-palmed, brown-skinned, with a signet ring gleaming on one finger.
