The stone would form between them.
That was what Liam kept repeating in his head as Arik led him down the narrow inner corridor, their bare feet silent on warm stone. The stone would form, they would be bound, and then he could eat something and sleep for a year.
The ceremonial chamber opened before them.
Liam stopped at the threshold.
He had expected something austere. Maybe a low bed, some candles, and perhaps a suspiciously convenient pool of water. Instead, the room was round and perfectly dark except for a ring of soft light falling from somewhere above, illuminating a wide circular platform at its center. The air smelled of amber and something green, like leaves crushed underfoot after rain. The walls were not walls. They appeared to be carved from a single continuous piece of black glass, shifting faintly as though breathing.
"Say nothing," Arik murmured.
Liam turned his head. "Why would I—"
His voice died.
Arik had pulled his shirt off.
