Chapter 28 · Stop telling me to try!

"Try!"

"Stop telling me to try!"

Her hand struck the center symbol.

The wall opened like a mouth.

Not wide. Just enough to reveal a narrow passage beyond it, packed with dry air and red light. On the other side stood a throne carved from dark bone-colored stone.

No one sat on it.

But a wet footprint marked the floor in front of it.

Then another.

They came toward us.

Lyra stared at the passage. Her face lost what little color it had left.

"This is where they brought me," she said.

"You remember it?"

"I remember the chains. I remember Silas standing behind me. I remember him saying the throne would wake when my blood touched the seat."

"Did you sit in it?"

"No."

"Lyra."

"I said no."

The footprints stopped at the threshold.

A warm gust moved through the passage and brushed over us. It smelled like sun-heated stone, impossible down here. The heat-stone in my hand flared.

Lyra made a small, broken sound.

"What?"

She stared at the flask. "That warmth isn't yours."

"What are you talking about?"

"You said it came from your blood."

"It does.