T

he tunnel stretched before us, waiting to swallow us up. I faltered at the doorway. There was no visible light at the end of the tunnel, no moonlight or mysterious wisps. I peered into the darkness with all my might, but there was nothing there but more and more blackness.

The others two noticed my hesitation and looked back at me with a mixture of confusion and impatience.

“What’s the hold up, m’lady?” I saw Rio’s half-illuminated eyebrow quirk.

I looked to the ground, then to one of the glowing orbs on the wall behind me.

“Can we use one of these?” I asked.

 I knew that I had no idea what made the mysterious glow, or how it was captured into the crystal in the first place.

“Maybe?” I was pleading. With who or what I did not know, but having all this darkness and water around me was becoming my worst nightmare.

An exasperated sigh made me jump. Levent stood beside me, and I did not know when he got there. He held his hand out toward me. I just stared at it. Even more frustrated by the fact I could not read his mind, his frown deepened.

“Give me your staff,” he instructed, as if it should have been obvious.

“Why?” I asked, though I had already reached over my shoulder to untie it.

He did not answer. As soon as I freed it, I handed it over. Levent’s eyes were serious as he stared at the stick for a long moment. Rio and I just watched and tried to figure out what he was doing.

A tiny flame burst from the top of my favorite walking stick and began licking away at the very flammable polish. Rio made a delighted noise that covered my own gasp of rage. The kin noticed my exasperation, and threw me a smirk.

“Shall we?” he said.

I frowned, but nodded resignedly. I followed him into the tunnel. My poor staff, I lamented. It did not deserve this treatment.

I walked closely beside Levent just to be near the light as the darkness enveloped us. I tried my best not to notice the sound of the wood cracking beneath the heat. Of course, being near the flame made the rest of the tunnel seem even darker. I resisted grasping the dragon’s cloak for support.

The half-blood, apparently preferring the darkness, continued to walk at least twenty paces in front of us. His dim outline and the sound of his feet against the stone