Page 108 of The Serpent Prince

“Give me the note.”

Zadie handed it over. “It was smart of you to decline. You’re in very precarious situation, and soon, it will be time to choose sides. I hope you choose wisely.” And with that, she walked away.

Imani didn’t even wait for her back to disappear before she ripped open the note with shaking hands.

It was written in red ink—it looked like blood—and there was only one sentence with Tanyl’s sigil at the bottom.

The Saints intended the third, worst kingdom of the Under for traitors.

It took two weeks to travel from Evov, and when they arrived back in Kehemol, everything blended together in a messy blur of preparations for the attack. They trained, slept, ate, and worked. Imani also read—she read the entire book of The History of Royal Bloodlines and had found several fascinating facts inside.

First, the Drow elves—Niflheim’s wandmakers—had their own chamber in the lost city of Zorah where they stored their best-made wands for the realm. If the city had fallen into the mountain, like the story said, there could be wands just waiting for the taking.

But like so many other places and pieces of information, the lost city of Zorah was entirely out of reach.

Second, she knew where to find the royal vaults now. They were in the deepest, darkest part of the castle, near the dungeons. She’d never thought to look near the dungeons for something so important, nor was she even sure she could get down there with all the guards, but tonight, she would try.

The book also mentioned doorways and slips, as expected. It confirmed Drasil wands could create stable doorways, but it also confirmed there was a slip inside the Niflheim royal vaults. She wondered where it would lead and if it was stable enough to traverse. She supposed it was since the castle hadn’t collapsed in a Fabric event, but where would it lead? She had a wild, completely insane guess, but the only way to find out would be to see for herself.

So, in the dead of the next early morning, Imani dressed in dark leggings and a black tunic then cast her invisibility illusion over her entire body.

The dungeons were located at the bottom of the stairs at the end of the east wing. There were meeting rooms that lined the first level down, but the farther she got, the more she could feel the cold start to seep into her bones. A musky, dirt-tinted scent filled her nose. She could hear rumblings of conversation wafting up the stairs from below and breaking the calm quiet she’d experienced up until now. The guards, probably.

Creeping around the corner of the stairs, Imani spied one large cage door with four men standing as watchmen. She hopped out of view.

Lightly slamming the back of her head against a wall, she squeezed her eyes shut. Think. Another slam. Think. If she did anything in her miserable life, this would be the crowning achievement. Another slam. Think. She couldn’t let the opportunity pass.

Her soul draw. It was the only solution that made sense, especially since she’d recently discovered it had the power to erase memories. With no tricky memory spells needed, she had a vast power at her fingertips. The only issue was that Imani had never subdued four men with her draw before, and it made her more than a little nervous.

Gods, if only she could dive headfirst into danger without fear, like Kiran, she would. But he was a twelve-mark and far better trained. If she were caught, she’d be put in the dungeons and probably executed unless Magnus decided to keep her around for breeding. A shudder ran through her body at the thought.

Despite her trepidation, Imani had to try.

She cracked her neck and took out her wand. With a swipe down her body and one muttered incantation, her form glimmered back into existence. She would need them to see her for this to work.

With one massive breath in and out, she strode around the corner with a secretive smirk on her face. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

Immediately, they ceased conversation, and all four pairs of eyes fell on her. Her soul draw raged, entirely free and permeating the room. None of the men could look away.

With a slow, deliberate turn of her head, she looked at every single set of eyes and said, “Without speaking, I’d like for you to let me pass into the dungeons.”

The four men scrambled to unlock the door for her. Once it clicked open, they turned their dazed eyes back on her again.

“Once I walk through, you’ll lock this door again and forget I was even here,” she stated confidently, prowling forward toward the door. She paused. “Nod if you understand.”

Jerky movements up and down from all four confirmed that it had worked.

Satisfied that they wouldn’t speak of her—or even remember—Imani slipped through the door and into the shadows of the dungeons.

A surge of pleasure rose up inside her chest at her power.

Inside, it was even more dank and musky—and dark. So dark.

She held her wand up, whispered a spell, and an orange ember lit the end. It illuminated a small circumference around her, but shadows still clung to her like a second skin. It made her feel right at home here. Almost as if she could suck all the darkness from the room and wield it.

There were no prisoners inside either, which meant the guards were stationed there to watch over something else.

The royal vaults, if she had to guess.