Would Erawan leave the key so unguarded?
Dorian sent his magic skittering along the
hall, testing for any hidden traps.
It found none. And when it reached the iron
door, it recoiled. It fled.
He spooled his power back into himself,
tucking it closer.
The iron door was dented and scratched
with age. Nine locks lay along its edge, each
more complicated than the last. Ancient,
strange locks.
He didn’t hesitate. He aimed for the slight
gap between the stones and the iron door, and
shifted. The fly shrank into a gnat, so small it
was nearly a dust mote. He flew beneath the
door, blocking out the smell, the terrible
pulsing against his blood.
It took him a moment to understand what
he looked at in the rough-hewn chamber,
illuminated by a small lantern dangling from
lily
(lily)
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