For the next two hours, they searched.
Every chain.
Every rune.
Every piece of the ancient stone prison.
Instinct began with the chains themselves.
Up close, they were even stranger than they had appeared from a distance.
They looked solid, yet when he reached toward one, Absolute Sense told him there was something fundamentally unnatural about it.
Magic given form.
Power compressed until it behaved almost like metal.
Instinct crouched beside one of the enormous links, studying the sickly purple runes carved across its surface.
“Anything?”
Arwen stood several steps behind him, bow resting in one hand.
Instinct shook his head.
“Nothing I understand.”
” THAT MAKES TWO OF US.
”
Instinct raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t understand them?”
” I DIDN’T SAY THAT.
”
A pause.
” I SAID YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND THEM.
VERY DIFFERENT THING.
”
Instinct sighed.
“Helpful.”
” ALWAYS.
”
He returned his attention to the chain.
Behind him, Kyra laughed softly.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said, amusement dancing in her golden eyes.
“You make the strangest expressions when you’re thinking.”
Instinct ignored her.
Kyra’s smile widened.
Of course, neither woman knew that half of those expressions came from arguing with a voice only he could hear.
Arwen had moved to the stone structure itself.
Her fingers hovered over one of the glowing runes without touching it.
“This magic is old.”
“How old?” Instinct asked.
Arwen frowned.
“Very.”
Kyra approached from the opposite side, nine white-and-silver tails streaked with deep crimson and darker accents drifting behind her.
“Older than your wards?”
Arwen glanced at her.
“Yes.”
That wiped some of the amusement from Kyra’s face.
She crouched near another section of the prison.
For once, the ancient kitsune said nothing.
Instinct watched both women work.
Arwen examined the construction of the runes, searching for patterns or breaks in their arrangement.
Kyra focused on the magic itself.
She would occasionally close her eyes, remaining completely still for several moments before moving to another section.
Instinct used Absolute Sense.
Three different approaches.
One problem.
And none of them were making much progress.
The creature watched them.
Sometimes.
Most of the time, she remained motionless.
Her enormous body rested against the ground, liquid-silver scales reflecting the sickly purple glow of her prison.
But every so often, that vast golden eye would open.
And always— it found Instinct.
He could feel her.
Not thoughts.
Not words.
Nothing so clear.
Just that same pressure against his consciousness.
Pain.
Exhaustion.
Rage.
And beneath all of it…
hope.
Or perhaps Instinct merely wanted it to be hope.
He wasn’t sure anymore.
“There’s something here.”
Arwen’s voice pulled his attention away.
Instinct crossed the clearing.
Kyra joined them moments later.
Arwen pointed toward the base of one of the stone pillars.
Several runes formed a circular pattern there, each connected to the next by thin glowing lines.
Except one.
A single rune flickered.
Weak.
Unstable.
Instinct crouched.
“A weak point?”
Kyra tilted her head.
“No.”
Arwen looked at her.
“No?”
“The rune is weak.”
Kyra’s golden eyes narrowed as she studied it.
“But the magic around it is compensating.”
She pointed toward several surrounding symbols.
“See?”
Arwen stared at them for several seconds.
Then her expression shifted.
“I see it.”
Instinct didn’t.
He frowned.
“Someone want to explain it to the person who can’t read ancient glowing prison symbols?”
Kyra smiled.
“If one rune weakens, the others feed power into it.”
Arwen nodded.
“The prison repairs its own structure.”
Instinct stared at the thousands of symbols surrounding them.
“Of course it does.”
” DID YOU EXPECT AN ANCIENT MAGICAL PRISON HOLDING A CREATURE THIS POWERFUL TO HAVE A CONVENIENT OFF SWITCH?
”
“One can hope.”
” ADORABLE.
”
Instinct stood.
There had to be something.
Every structure had a weakness.
Every system had a failure point.
If the prison had been built, then somehow— somewhere— it could be broken.
They continued searching.
Arwen traced the patterns between the runes.
Kyra followed the currents of magic moving through the prison.
Instinct walked slowly around the structure, allowing Absolute Sense to stretch outward.
He stopped touching individual pieces.
Stopped looking at individual runes.
Instead, he tried to feel the prison as a whole.
Thousands of runes.
Dozens of chains.
Stone.
Magic.
Power.
All connected.
All feeding into—
Instinct froze.
Something moved.
Not inside the clearing.
Farther out.
Among the trees.
His head snapped toward the forest.
Arwen noticed immediately.
“What?”
Instinct raised one hand.
“Quiet.”
Kyra’s ears turned toward the trees.
Instinct closed his eyes.
Absolute Sense expanded.
At first, there was only the forest.
Branches moving in the wind.
Small creatures beneath the earth.
The faint rustling of leaves.
Then— movement.
Heavy.
Multiple sources.
Coming toward them.
Instinct opened his eyes.
“We have company.”
Arwen immediately brought her bow up.
“How many?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Kyra moved silently toward the edge of the clearing.
Her playful demeanor disappeared completely.
“Direction?”
Instinct pointed.
“Southwest.”
The three of them moved away from the prison, taking positions near the tree line while keeping the bound creature behind them.
Instinct focused.
The movements were still distant.
But approaching.
Slowly.
Not running.
Not hunting blindly.
Coming directly toward the clearing.
One minute passed.
Then another.
Kyra’s ears twitched.
“I hear them.”
Arwen’s expression tightened.
“More than ten.”
Instinct reached for Moonfall.
The familiar weight of the katana settled into his hand.
“Can you tell what they are?”
Kyra inhaled softly.
Her eyes narrowed.
“No.”
They waited.
The forest became strangely quiet.
Then Instinct heard it.
A low scraping sound.
Something heavy moving across earth.
Another answered from farther to the left.
Then another.
And another.
Arwen went completely still.
Instinct noticed immediately.
“What?”
She didn’t answer.
Her emerald eyes were fixed on the darkness between the trees.
A shape appeared.
Long.
Low.
Scaled.
It moved between two ancient trunks and stopped at the edge of the clearing.
Another emerged behind it.
Then another.
Instinct tightened his grip around Moonfall.
Arwen whispered one word.
“Basilisks.”
Instinct looked at her.
These were the creatures she had been searching for.
The reason she’d nearly died.
The reason they had begun this journey in the first place.
Another basilisk emerged.
Then another.
Five.
Seven.
Ten.
They kept coming.
Kyra’s tails spread behind her.
“That’s quite a few.”
Arwen slowly raised her bow.
“No.”
Her voice had changed.
Tense.
Focused.
“This isn’t normal.”
Instinct looked toward her.
“What isn’t?”
“Basilisks don’t gather like this.”
Another shape emerged from the trees.
Then two more.
Instinct counted silently.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
Fourteen.
The final basilisk crawled into view.
Fifteen.
Fifteen basilisks stood along the edge of the clearing.
None attacked.
None hissed.
None even seemed particularly interested in Instinct, Arwen, or Kyra.
Their attention was fixed beyond them.
On the prison.
Instinct felt something shift behind him.
A chain pulled tight.
Purple light flared across the clearing.
The massive creature opened her golden eye.
And for the first time since they’d returned— the emotion Instinct felt from her changed.
The exhaustion vanished.
The resignation disappeared.
What replaced them was immediate.
Violent.
Recognition.
Instinct slowly turned back toward the fifteen basilisks.
Moonfall whispered free of its sheath.
“Something tells me they’re not here by accident.”
let me know what are you guys thinking about the novel till now