Not symbolic fire. Not dramatic lighting. Lava. A molten floor pulsed beneath him, glowing veins of orange and red crawling like veins through the earth. Heat distortion warped the air. I shivered violently. "Oh no," I muttered. "They're actually inside the volcano. Of course they are."
Sir Jin coughed violently, blood flecking his lips. "My lady, " he rasped. "Don't, don't answer it…"
The image warped violently. "Wait," I said sharply. "He said don't answer, he didn't say don't watch."
His eyes snapped upward. Straight at us. Pupils blown wide. Not pain. Terror. Then another voice spoke. Not his. And gods help me…It was beautiful. Warm. Calm. Educated. The kind of voice that made you want to sit down, shut up, and listen. Layered. Echoing. As if it came from underwater… and everywhere at once. "Ah," it said pleasantly. "So the signal reached you after all."
