The Rocky Mountains rose before them like a wall.
They'd driven for two days, stopping only for gas and brief rest. Mira had returned to Portland—someone needed to report to Aldric, to coordinate with Cassius. Now it was just Lyra and Kael, alone in the vast emptiness of the American West.
The third bond was somewhere near the Continental Divide. Helena's notes placed it in a valley that had no name on any map. The symbols from the sanctuary showed a peak shaped like a broken crown, with a lake at its base.
Kael drove while Lyra navigated. The road had become a dirt track, then nothing at all. They parked the car at the edge of a forest and continued on foot.
The air was thin. Cold. Lyra didn't feel it, but she could see Kael's breath fogging. He'd pulled on an extra layer, but his movements were still fluid. The wolf in him was close to the surface.
"There," he said.
Through the trees, she saw it. A peak shaped like a broken crown. And at its base, a lake—small, circular, perfectly still.
"The third bond."
They approached carefully. The forest was quiet, but not the unnatural quiet of the hunter attack. This was different. Sacred. The air itself felt charged.
At the edge of the lake, a stone altar rose from the water. Unlike the others, this one was above the surface. And it was broken.
Not recently. Centuries ago. The cracks were weathered, covered in moss. But the damage was unmistakable.
"Someone destroyed it," Kael said. "A long time ago."
"The Silent Ones."
Lyra knelt at the water's edge. The symbols were here too—carved into the stones around the lake, barely visible beneath the moss. She cleared them carefully.
"The binding marks are intact. The altar is broken, but the magic is still here. Sleeping."
"Can we wake it?"
She looked up at him. "I think we have to try."
They joined hands across the broken altar. The water was cold—even Lyra could feel it, a distant echo of sensation. She closed her eyes and reached for the bond she'd felt in the cave. The recognition. The choice.
I choose you.
The symbols began to glow. Faint at first, then brighter. The water stirred. The broken altar trembled.
And then, from the trees, an arrow flew.
It struck the altar between them. The glow flickered. Kael spun, shifting as he moved.
Figures emerged from the forest. More hunters. More of the Silent Ones. And at their head, a man Lyra recognized.
Marcus Valerius.