The Songbird & the Heart of Stone (Crowns of Nyaxia, #3)

by Carissa Broadbent

Follow, the dog insisted. And with a firm push from its bony snout, I stumbled through the arch—straight into the halls of Morthryn. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. I stood in a long, winding hallway. The floor was mirrored, like the smooth surface of a still pond. If there was a ceiling, it was so high above us that it disappeared into ghostly mist. Balls of light hovered above us like little moons, casting silver and gold across ivory walls and golden columns, which curved and arched in a shape that was eerily reminiscent of ribs. Intricate carvings crawled up each one, quivering under the flickering light. Thorny vines cradling blood-tipped leaves encircled the columns, increasingly overgrown as they climbed and eventually disappeared into the mist. The walls were lined with arches like the one I’d just come through, though each was bricked over with stone. The door I’d just stepped through was now the same, framing a flat wall. I took a few amazed steps, taking it all in. The black ink floor rippled beneath each one, though my feet remained dry.