“Okay.” I rubbed my cold hands together, wishing I’d thought to grab my gloves from the vehicle. “Aaron, let’s see if we can find the access point. If it survived the damage, that’ll be the easiest way in.”
“Got it. I’ll start over here.”
“Justin and I will take this end.”
As Aaron started toward the far side of the temple, I grabbed Justin’s arm and dragged him in the opposite direction. We walked into the rubble beyond the edge of the untouched summoning platform.
“All right, spill it,” I hissed, my fingers digging into his wrist. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s my line.” His hazel eyes, so similar to mine, flashed angrily. “A cult? Demons? Dozens of people killed in this place? What are you doing here?”
“Did I not explain to you yesterday how I’m done justifying my actions?”
“And I was okay with that—until you skipped town in the middle of the night.”
Seething, I dropped into a crouch and brushed snow off some rocks. What would the entrance to a secret underground lair look like? Hidden, but presumably easy to get at, right?
“Look,” Justin muttered, squatting beside me. “I was worried, okay? I didn’t know if you were running away because of me, or if you were in trouble, or what.”
“Yeah, but Justin.” I glowered. “You shouldn’t have known I was leaving town in the first place. How did you follow me?”
I hadn’t noticed any suspicious vehicles on the drive, which meant he’d been far enough behind us to stay out of sight. That suggested …
“You hacked my phone,” I growled.
“I didn’t hack it. I unlocked it with the same passcode you’ve been using since you were sixteen.”
Damn it. I was changing that code ASAP.
“That’s illegal,” I snapped at him. “You’re a cop. You can’t—”
“Are you going to report me?”
I glowered. Again.
He shuffled sideways and brushed at the snow coating a hunk of concrete that might have once been part of the temple roof. “What are we looking for?”
“I am looking for the secret entrance to the secret underground lair of the evil bastard who ran this secret cult—and killed everyone in it.”
“And … why are you looking for it?”
“None of your damn business. But feel free to go home and leave me to it.”
His jaw tightened—the same way mine did when I was digging in my heels with all the bullheaded stubbornness that fueled my cranky redheaded soul.
“Like you said, I didn’t drive all the way out here to turn right around and go home.”
I clenched my jaw right back at him. We glared at each other.
“Are you two searching or what?” Aaron called from the other side of the ruins, an annoyed bite in his voice. “We have an underground bunker to find, remember?”
Realizing the sum total of my and Justin’s efforts was brushing away a bit of snow, I pushed to my feet, angry at myself for being distracted and at Justin for—
“That’s what you’re looking for?” Leaning on his quarterstaff, Blake stood at the edge of the ruins, halfway between Aaron and me. “An underground bunker? Beneath the ruins?”
“Yeah,” I admitted, even more annoyed. “So if you don’t mind—”
“Get over here, then.”
“Huh?”
He waved at us to join him. “I’ll prove you’re on a wild goose chase so we can all go home. Unless you’d prefer to search the hard way.”
I headed toward him, unconvinced and suspicious. “Prove it how?”
“I’m an earth mage and you’re looking for a hole in the earth.”
My eyes widened. I glanced at Aaron, who also looked surprised. He broke into a jog, heading for Blake, and I hurried to join them.
“You can detect underground spaces?” Aaron asked.
“Easily.” Blake raised his staff in both hands. “I’ve always avoided shifting the earth up here to preserve the summoning circles, but checking for an open space shouldn’t damage them.”
He jammed the butt of his staff into the ground—and the earth vibrated as though he’d struck a huge stone bell. The booming toll rippled outward, making the thin layer of snow shiver and dance.
Blake gripped the staff, his eyes hooded with concentration. His breath caught. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“What is it?” I demanded.
“There is an open space.” He pointed to the hillside that rose toward the mountain’s peak. “It isn’t under the temple, but just behind it.”
“Oh man,” I gushed. “You just saved us so much time. Where’s the entrance?”
“No idea, but we don’t need one. Come on.”
Resisting the urge to clap delightedly—I really hadn’t wanted to dig—I followed on the terramage’s heels. He crossed the summoning platform and stopped at the edge. Taking a moment to ponder the rocky hillside, he raised his staff. A complex twirl, then he tapped it lightly against the ground.
A three-foot-long crack split the earth. With a hideous grinding noise, the edges of the fissure peeled back, dirt rolling away from the widening gap. Impressive—and creepy. This guy would make the world’s most efficient grave digger.
At the thought, my hand slipped toward the holster at my hip.
The tremors quieted. A new, almost perfectly square hole in the ground awaited us, the inside as dark as pitch.
“Nice!” Aaron exclaimed, unslinging a duffle bag from his shoulder. He pulled out two flashlights. “Shall we see what secrets await?”
“We shall,” I agreed in the same grand tone. “Just one thing first.”
As the three men looked curiously toward me, I raised my paintball gun and fired a shot into Blake’s face.
Chapter Nine
Okay, not quite his face. I wasn’t that mean. I shot him in the muscular side of his neck. It would leave one hell of a bruise, but that was it.
Aaron caught Blake’s shoulders as he keeled over backward. He eased the heavier man to the ground, almost dropping our flashlights in the process.
“Tori!” Justin gasped. “Why did you do that?”
I holstered my weapon. “Lesson one for the mythic world, Justin. Don’t trust random mages who could bury you alive in the grave they just dug.”
He glanced nervously at the hole.
Flicking my ponytail off my shoulder, I faced the scary darkness. “Blake can take a little nap while we investigate. Right, Aaron?”
“Yep. Also, Tori?”
I glanced back at him.
He grinned. “You’re seriously hot when you take out mages twice your size.”
“Aw, thanks, babe.” I kept my reply flippant, hoping he didn’t notice the slash of despondent guilt that iced my chest. Without any artifacts, shooting mythics with sleeping potions was the extent of my usefulness—and look how much good it had done in our earlier fight against Blake.
I approached the opening in the hillside. “Got those flashlights ready?”
Joining me, Aaron passed over a flashlight. As he turned his on, Justin stepped up on my other side, his expression vacillating between an annoyed scowl—directed at Aaron—and an uneasy frown—directed at the hole.
Turning on my light as well, I directed the beam into the pit. Hmm. Did mine eye spy a dirt-dusted stone floor?
“Are you both going in there?” Justin asked.
“Yeah, but maybe you should wait here. I don’t think we should all go in.”
Aaron pursed his lips. “I’ve got to agree.”
Pulling out my paintball gun, I extended it toward my brother. “If Blake starts to wake up, shoot him on bare skin and he’ll lose consciousness again.”
Justin hesitantly took the gun. “All right … but only if you actually explain all this to me afterward.”
“Fine,” I grumbled.
“And keep calling to me. We should stay in earshot in case anyone else shows up. If they’re … a
mythic … you’ll need to get out immediately.”
My brother was many things, including smart. I should’ve thought of that myself.
“Good idea. Okay, Aaron. Into the villainous lair of evil we go.”
Snorting in amusement, he passed me his flashlight, sat on the edge of the hole, and dropped in feet-first. He landed with a thud, the top of his head five feet below ground level.
I handed both flashlights to him, then jumped in. My boots landed on gritty stone, and musty staleness assaulted my nose.
“We need a canary,” I muttered to Aaron as I retrieved my flashlight from him.
He pulled a blocky electronic device from his pocket. “Or a gas monitor?”
“Oh, yeah. Much better.”
He switched the monitor on and clipped it to his belt, then we both lifted our flashlights to see what we were dealing with down here. My beam landed on a wall directly across from us, where a pair of eyes glared angrily above a toothy, snarling snout.
“Well, that’s creepy,” I muttered.
I flicked my light around, finding more snarling gargoyles carved into the thick stone pillars supporting the ceiling. Aaron and I stood at the edge of a decent-sized room, the ceiling and floor both made of stone.
“We’re going farther in,” I called to Justin.
“Okay.”
Dust puffed away from my boots as I moved deeper into the room, moldy cobwebs hanging from the corners. I rubbed my toe over an uneven patch of floor and uncovered a line of tarnished silver inlay. Who wanted to bet there was another summoning circle down here?
At the far end, something that could’ve been a stone lectern or a sacrificial altar faced the summoning circle. I crossed to it, checking its flat top and the gap underneath, finding nothing that resembled a grimoire.
“Tori, over here.”
Aaron had gone left while I’d gone straight, and he stood in a dim corner, his flashlight moving across a stone table. Three wooden crates formed a line across it.
I rushed to his side. In front of him was a fourth box—rectangular, only a couple inches tall, with a carved exterior featuring a strange symbol: a ring with a spiky line in the center, the three points of the line piercing the top of the circle.
“What is that?” I muttered, tracing the zigzag without touching the wood.
Aaron canted his head, squinting. “I think it’s … a crown?”
A crown inside a circle? Weird. But the important thing was the box’s shape—perfect for a large book.
Aaron dug in his pocket and pulled out a pair of leather gloves. I held his flashlight as he pulled them on. They weren’t for warmth; the thick leather would hopefully protect him from any poisons rubbed into the wood.
Using a fingertip, he flipped the box’s metal latch and lifted the heavy lid. Its hinges creaked as it opened. I shone both lights inside, my heart in my throat.
The interior was empty.
I swore furiously. “Where’s the grimoire?”
“Good question. It looks like Eterran was telling the truth about its existence.” Aaron shut the case. “Did the summoner move it before the Keys showed up?”
“To where?” My fragile hope was cracking. This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be a dead end already.
Aaron nudged the lid off the nearest crate. It clattered to the table, and I directed the lights toward it. Inside was a dusty silver chalice, two candelabras, and something that vaguely resembled a foot-long scepter, with the same crown-in-a-circle symbol topping it.
The gargoyle carvings glowered accusingly with their stone eyes as we opened the second crate, which contained bundles of heavy red fabric sealed in clear bags. Desperation tightening my throat, I watched Aaron pull the lid off the third and final crate. This one held another chalice with a dent in the side, a candelabra with one arm snapped off, a yellow tub of polishing wipes, and a legal-sized padded envelope with the top ripped open.
Aaron pulled out the envelope. The address was a P.O. box in Wheeler, Oregon, mailed from an address in Portland. Inside it was something bundled in a layer of bubble wrap—and a piece of paper.
“Is that a letter?” I asked, angling my flashlight into the envelope.
He pulled out the single sheet, yellowed with age. I lit the faded handwriting.
“‘Revered Leaders,’” Aaron read quietly. “‘I hope my letter finds you blessed with the wisdom of the Goddess. With the humblest thanks, I return the holy scepter you graciously lent me. I can only hope I carried it with befitting dignity and grace. I eagerly await my next ceremony within your sacred temple. Enshrined in Her Light, L.’”
Gooseflesh covered my skin, and I had to force a jaunty tone. “What a sniveling brownnoser.”
“Did Ezra ever mention members of the group living outside Enright?”
“No … but someone recruited his parents. Maybe the cult had part-time members?”
He flipped the envelope back to the addresses. “If this L member had enough clout to borrow a scepter, they might know about this hidden room.”
“And if they weren’t in Enright for the extermination, they might have survived.” I turned the flashlight to the empty box that had probably held a book. “Could L have taken the grimoire?”
We stared at each other, then Aaron nodded. “All right. Let’s check the rest of the room.”
I called an update to Justin, then we split up and scoured the underground room for items of interest, hidden compartments, or any other clues. As I brushed dirt off the walls, I sneezed at the dust clogging my nose. If there were any secret levers in here, they were well hidden.
I stopped to peer at a snarling gargoyle, weirded out by its gaping mouth, then joined Aaron at the stone table.
“I guess we’ll move this stuff up into the sunlight and take a better look,” he decided, taking hold of the empty book box. “Then we can—”
He lifted the box—and a loud click echoed through the room.
A quiet hissing followed, and for a long second, Aaron and I stared at the metal switch in the table where the box had sat.
Fire burst from the snarling snout of the gargoyle above our heads.
Aaron lunged into me, shielding my body from the flames. Light and heat roared through the room—all the stone guardians were spitting flaming liquid from their jaws. Smoke billowed and the gas monitor on Aaron’s hip blared a warning.
“Run!” Aaron yelled. “Get out!”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Dropping the flashlights, I bolted for the hole at the room’s edge. A shadow blocked the sunny opening—Justin leaning down, an arm outstretched. I grabbed his reaching hand and he hauled me out. Aaron jumped for the ledge, swung over it, and rolled onto the frozen ground.
Black smoke boiled from the opening, unseen flames crackling loudly in the hidden room.
Aaron sat up and brushed at the flames eating holes in his leather jacket, the fire vanishing under his touch. At my anxious look, he lifted his other hand, showing me the undamaged envelope.
“What happened?” Justin demanded. “How did the room catch on fire?”
“Booby trap,” I informed him. “But it’s okay. We got the most important thing.”
“And what is that?”
I pointed at the envelope. “An address.”
He blinked.
Pushing to his feet, Aaron unwrapped the item inside the envelope, revealing a scepter in the same design as the large one in the now-burning crate down in the secret room, except this one was only eight inches long. He studied the envelope’s return address.
“Well, Tori?” His blue eyes rose to mine. “Are we going to Portland?”
Wiping the snow off my leather pants, I also stood. Black smoke mushroomed from the hole, the dark haze drifting across the temple ruins where Ezra’s parents and sixty-six other victims of the cult had died.
“We’re going to Portland.”
I surveyed the stack of gear in the SUV, ensuring nothing would bounce around too much on th
e drive back to civilization. Wedging a shovel more securely in its corner, I pulled the hatch down and slammed it shut.
Justin, leaning against the vehicle’s side panel, scowled at me.
I scowled back.
“You promised,” he reminded me.
Ugh.
Stomping over, I leaned against the cold metal beside him. It was kind of weird because the SUV was sitting two feet lower than it should’ve been. “Do not repeat anything I’m about to tell you to anyone, got it? Including Blake.”
Not that we’d be seeing Blake again once we drove off this property.
Justin nodded, and I heaved a deep sigh.
“Okay.” Another slow inhale, then I spoke at top speed. “Eight years ago, a cult operated here and my friend’s parents got caught up in it and the cult did something to my friend and now we’re here trying to find a grimoire that will explain what they did to my friend so we can save him before he dies.”
Justin blinked a few times. “Uh. Okay. What … what’s a grimoire?”
“A book of magic. Like, spells and instructions and stuff. Sometimes, they’re kind of like journals too, and mythics will write down their experiences.”
“And something in this grimoire will save your friend’s life? Is a spell going to kill him?”
“More or less.” I gave him a hard stare. “So, will you go home now?”
“No. I’m sticking with you, Tori.”
I gritted my teeth. “I already reset my phone.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I’ll do it right now.”
“I can follow you anyway.”
I gripped my paintball gun, half lifting it from its holster. “No, you can’t. One pop of sleeping potion and I’ll be long gone before you wake up.”
He returned my threatening stare, unflinching. He was calling my bluff and we both knew it.
Ugh. Brothers.
“Don’t you have a job?” I muttered angrily, slumping against the vehicle. “You can’t follow me for days on end.”
“I took some time off.” He sighed. “Tori, I’m not doing this to be annoying. This is important to you, isn’t it? I want to help.”
Lost Talismans and a Tequila (The Guild Codex: Spellbound Book 7) Page 8
