Chapter 7 THE WARDEN OF BONES

The deeper they moved into the vault, the colder the air became. The walls changed from smooth black stone to pale gray slabs marked with ancient symbols. Lyra kept her shadows close, scanning every curve in the hallway.

Eryndor walked beside her, silent. His fire stayed dim, controlled, but tension clung to him like armor. She had seen fear before, but what she sensed from him now was different. It was a restrained storm, tight and coiled.

“Are you steady?” Lyra asked without looking at him.

“I am,” he said, though his voice held a rough edge.

The corridor opened into a massive chamber. The ceiling arched high above them, ribbed with stone columns shaped like curved bones. In the center stood a circular platform surrounded by jagged skeletal remains that rose like broken teeth.

Lyra exhaled with recognition.

“This is the Bone Hall.”

Eryndor stepped forward.

“You know this place.”

“Yes.” She moved slowly toward the platform. “My father brought me here when I was a child. This hall contains what guards the old gateway.”

“What gateway?”

Lyra touched one of the pillars. Her fingers traced a familiar symbol carved into the stone.

“The path that leads to the first layer of the Underworld. It was sealed after the last rebellion. Only the Warden of Bones can open it.”

Eryndor scanned the chamber.

“Where is this Warden?”

A low rumble answered him from the dark corner of the hall.

The floor vibrated. Dust drifted from the ceiling.

Eryndor’s fire flared instinctively.

Lyra stepped back and gathered her shadows.

“Stay alert. The Warden is not a person.”

The rumbling grew louder.

From the far wall, the stone cracked open. A massive shape crawled out of the shadows, its body made from interlocking bones of beasts long extinct. Hollow sockets glowed faintly with pale blue light. Its limbs creaked like ancient trees bending under a storm.

Its skull turned toward them.

Eryndor tightened his stance.

“That thing is the Warden.”

“Yes,” Lyra said. “A guardian bound by oath to the realm. It will not speak. It will only attack.”

The creature stepped forward, its claws scraping across the stone floor, leaving deep grooves.

Eryndor lifted his hands.

“If it attacks, we defend.”

Lyra shook her head.

“We cannot kill it. Its body will reform in hours.”

“Then what is the plan.”

“We get past it.”

The Warden lunged.

Eryndor erupted in flames, meeting the creature head-on. His fire struck its ribcage and spread across its bones in a bright burst of heat. The chamber filled with a roar. The creature screeched, its body cracking and popping, but it did not fall.

Lyra moved fast, darting along the edges of the room. Shadows wrapped around her legs, giving her speed as she dodged the creature’s tail that slammed into the ground behind her.

Eryndor blocked a swipe of its claw, his flames scorching across the bone surface.

“It is not slowing down.”

“It cannot feel pain,” Lyra called, her voice focused. “Aim for the core. The blue light inside its skull.”

Eryndor shifted, dodging a strike that shattered a pillar. He gathered his fire and hurled it directly into the creature’s skull. The Warden staggered backward, stunned for a breath, its sockets flickering.

Lyra seized the moment. She leapt onto the creature’s spine, shadows anchoring her to the moving bones. She climbed toward the skull as it writhed beneath her.

“Hold it steady,” she shouted.

Eryndor surged forward. He grabbed the Warden by the ribs, his fire blazing bright. The heat poured into the creature, forcing it to halt. The bone structure glowed red under the intensity.

Lyra reached the skull and plunged both hands into the hollow sockets. Her shadows swirled violently, mixing with the pale blue light. She concentrated, pulling the energy inside.

The chamber shook. The Warden emitted a deep groaning sound as the light dimmed.

Lyra grit her teeth.

“Almost.”

The Warden threw its head back, trying to dislodge her. Eryndor gripped harder, flames intensifying.

The blue light finally blinked out.

The Warden collapsed in a heap of unmoving bones.

Lyra slid down its side, landing lightly on the stone. Her shadows withdrew, settling around her shoulders.

Eryndor approached her.

“You shut it down.”

“Only temporarily,” she said, catching her breath. “It will reassemble itself once the core energy regenerates.”

“That gives us time.”

Lyra nodded and walked toward the platform at the center of the hall. The stones shimmered faintly under her steps.

“This is the gateway.”

Eryndor joined her.

“What happens if we open it.”

“We enter the first layer. And once we step inside, there is no turning back without a guide.”

“Do we need one.”

“Yes. And there is only one person who can guide us.”

Eryndor frowned.

“Who.”

Lyra looked at him, her expression tense.

“My mother.”