Arynn grabbed a torch from the wall and turned around on the staircase to see if there was anyone behind her. She was met with complete and utter silence—only hearing the crackling flame of the torch in her hand and the occasional far away footstep of the guards on watch.

She had left Aleksei in her bed, sleeping soundly on the pillow next to hers with a heavy blanket pulled up to her neck. Arynn had stared at her for a while, watching the rise and fall of her cheek and the little hole she left in her lips to allow herself to breathe.

If Arynn tried hard enough, she could still feel the pressure of the girl' slips against her own. If she pressed her hand into her neck, she could still feel Aleksei's teeth biting into her skin. And if she allowed herself to become quiet enough, she could still feel the girl's limbs entangled with her own.

The dark in the corridor below ground was heavy at night, pressing down on her shoulders as she walked further and further away from the light. She heard whispers from all around her—a foreign and old tongue that wasn't spoken by any living man. A wide arc of the torch revealed that there was no one else there—just her and the old cracked walls.

She steeled herself, balancing on one the still injured foot and kicked at the iron door with the other. Her bones screamed in agony as her weight finally shifted back to both feet. The rusty door sprang open with the force of her kick and made a loud clanging sound as it hit the left wall. She pulled at the strap of her satchel and gripped the torch tighter as she stepped over the threshold.

"Have you come to slay me with your sword forged from darkness," asked the creature in its guttural growl when it saw her approach. It sat in its corner, its long barbed tail curled in front of it.

Arynn threw the torch on the pile of straw and fixed her eyes in its red and gold ones. She said, "I thought that no sword wielded by a mortal could kill a creature of your kind—the leviathan is an immortal creature that fears and answers to no mortal man."

It unfurled itself and brought its large head closer to her. With a long sniff, it asked, "What is that?" Its filmy eyelids closed over the large slit eyes once as it blinked. Hot gusts of air slammed into Arynn's chest as it exhaled loudly and came even close than before.

"A gift," said Arynn as she opened the satchel and pulled out the heavy pack of paper. She upended it and watched as the dark and wet fish fell the stone floor with wet slaps. She gagged at the smell and said, "Trout."

It paused as if uncertain, and then said, "Arynn the Arrogant has brought me the gift of deceased fish. How do I know these fish are not laced with poison?" It reared back and settled back into its dark corner, watching her with lidded eyes.

"You're serpentine—you have a keen sense of smell that told you these fish are not poisoned," said Arynn. She kicked the fish into a neat pile and grimaced when the front of her boot got wet. "Why would I kill you if I need your help? And besides, you've already said that poison does not harm you."

"You've threatened my life once already."

"I was establishing dominance," protested Arynn. "The people that brought me to you are as much your enemy as they are mine. They locked you down here—a creature that belongs in the sea trapped in a mortal dungeon under a desert. I want to free you."

It emitted a growl. "At what cost?"

"There is a Wall," said Arynn. "It is made of solid stone and prevents anyone from entering the capitol. If I'm to finish what I've started, I need that wall to come down."

"And what is it you've started, girl?"

Arynn hesitated. "The process of taking back what's owed to me by birthright—the ivory throne of Icark. I am the only person alive today who has a right to it, and I want it before anyone else can take it from me."

"The ivory throne belongs to the Sidewinders," hissed the creature as it emerged from the dark again. "There is no one alive today who has a claim to that throne as the Serpents are all dead. Do you think you can fool me, little girl?"

"I bear the mark of the Serpents on my shoulder," she said. "A pale crescent facing upward. My name is Evander Snakebit, and I am the daughter of the last Serpent to ever rule—I am the last of my bloodline."

"The truth of who you are will be revealed soon," it said. "I will help you destroy the Wall you so dearly wish to topple and then I fear we must go our separate ways. There is nothing left for me here in the darkness of a solitary dungeon."

"Where will you go," asked Arynn with a tremor in her voice that didn't escape the creature's notice.

It unfurled itself again and snorted. A flash of light shot from its nostrils, lightning the room up so bright it drove away the darkness completely. Arynn was agin awestruck by its form. It turned its head to the east, where the sea lapped against the shores hundreds of miles away from this place. "To the sea," it said. "Where I belong."

Arynn's heart hammered in her chest as she reached a hand out to the leviathan, with her fingers shaking. The sweet scent of her own fear wafted into her nose and made bile rise to her throat. "Come," she said as she took a tentative step forward with her arm still outstretched. "The depths await your return."

It lowered its head so it was only a few inches away from her fingers and closed its eyes. With her heart in her throat, she pressed her palm flat against the silky smooth skin of its muzzle. She choked on a laugh as it keened and turned its head to the side, allowing her to caress its face more easily. Softly, she said, "I don't even know your name."

"Timaeus," it said.

Honour, it meant.