The temple was a mess, the main hall littered with bodies of priestesses. It was as we feared: a pack of werewraiths were wreaking havoc, tearing and slashing and spilling priestess blood all over the stone floors.
The werewraiths turned to us, new arrivals to their bloodbath. Their red eyes glowed and their twisted bodies stunk of rot and decay, a foul stench I couldn’t forget having endured—the smell of death and darkness.
I pushed my magic into my sword and it lit up, silver flames licking at the steel. Tristan lunged at the nearest creature, and the carnage began afresh as he and Cade sliced through shadow, bone, and muscle, twin swords blazing in each hand.
Blood roared in my ears as I created a dagger of silver fire and flung it at the werewraith coming at me. It thrashed to the ground, and I raised my sword, slashing its neck.
Another werewraith leapt.
I lifted my left hand and shot a beam of silver fire at it, pinning it to the wall. It fought and snarled and tried to push itself free. I ran to the creature and slashed across its chest. It screamed and fell as I ran the flaming sword through its back. It burst into black ash, disappearing into the shadows.
Tristan and Cade had finished off the rest of the pack. But a few of the werewraiths escaped and the centaurs hunted them down, galloping into the thickly forested mountains.
Tristan came up to me and inspected me closely. “Are you all right? Did they bite you anywhere?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so.” I looked myself over and put my amulet back on. Whoever was after the codex was powerful, and I had to be careful. Without my amulet I was too exposed out in the mountains. Anyone with enough spirit magic could easily find me.
“Werewraith poison is incredibly strong.” Tristan bent down beside a fallen priestess. Her green robes were spread out beneath her mangled body like a patch of summer grass, stained with blotches of dark blood that seeped from her many wounds.
“She’s gone.” He bowed his head. “We were too late.”
There was a groan from the far end of the hall, near the altar stone. A priestess was still alive.
I rushed over to her. Blood seeped from the slashes on her chest, and I could see the darkness of the poison that ran beneath her skin, a cobweb of black nearing her heart.
Tristan put his hand on my shoulder. “You cannot heal her,” he whispered, bending down beside me. “The poison has already reached her heart.”
There was a flicker of movement as she raised her small hand, placing it delicately on mine. “Abraxas,” she said, forcing her words out in a hoarse croak. “Find him. Destroy the book.” The priestess breathed her last and her hand fell limp. It grew cold as her life slowly slipped away.
I looked at Tristan, confusion apparent on my face. “What did she mean?”
Tristan took my hand. “Come, we can discuss this back at the camp.”
There was a howl in the distance. Cade ran up to us. “Let’s go, there is another pack out there.”
“We need to leave, Aurora,” said Tristan, pulling me up by the arm. “Now.”
We exited the temple and ran down the steps.
A shadow stopped us in our tracks.
A small, hooded figure stood at the bottom of the stairs. Tristan and Cade simultaneously stepped in front of me, their swords and magic ready.
The figure removed her hood as the moon shone overhead. An old, weathered face with long white hair looked back at me.
“Maggie?” I gasped, moving past my companions. “Is that you?”
The figure nodded, and a familiar voice said, “We meet again, Aurora Shadowbreaker. Follow me, we haven’t much time. I will explain everything.”
Tristan held me back. “We don’t know if this is really a person you know or a shapeshifter,” he said, his eyes flat, his muscles tensed. “Who is she?”
“There is more than one pack of werewraiths in these mountains,” said Magdalene calmly. “And creatures far more dangerous than them, too. We cannot talk freely here.” She paused, her violet eyes flickering with silver swirls. “But the warrior is right, this is not my true form.”
Magic started to swirl around her as she spoke. Her long white hair changed into strands of spun gold, while her wrinkles disappeared and her skin became flawlessly beautiful. She grew in stature as her body changed, shedding the tattered robes to reveal golden feathers and the body of a huge owl with the head of a young woman. But her eyes remained the same—violet tinged with silver stars—and I recognized Maggie within them.
Tristan’s eyes widened. “You’re an Alkana?”
“What’s an Alkana?” I had never heard of them before.
Tristan shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “She is one of an ancient race of beings, powerful seers. They can take on any shape or identity, but if they reveal their true form to a person, that means they will help them.”
Maggie chuckled. “Right you are, my boy,” she said, spreading her wings. “Come.”
And we followed her into the darkness of the forest.
The Alkana
The thickly forested mountains were quiet with an almost eerie silence as we flew over their darkest parts, following the Alkana. The griffins kept a steady pace, scanning the forest for threats.
Once Maggie had revealed who she was, Tristan and Cade looked at her with a mixture of awe and reverence. For an Alkana to reveal her true form to a fae was considered the highest privilege.
“Where is she taking us?” I whispered to Tristan as the griffins descended into a small clearing deep in the forest.
“I don’t know. But we need some answers, and the Alkana’s knowledge of all things ancient is vast beyond belief,” Tristan said as we dismounted. “The Alkana are immortal and have been around since the Age of the Ancients. They also have a powerful gift of
