Finding Aurora

by Rebecca Langham

  “Why, Talia?” Red asked. “Stepping through without an escort is unbelievably ill-advised. You scared me. What if someone else, something else, had reached you before I did?”

  I bit my bottom lip. “But you did find me. Like you always do.”

  She sighed, the worry lines on her forehead dissolving. She looked around, noticing Amir and the unfamiliar location. “What is this place? Who is he?”

  Shifting my gaze, I saw Amir was both fascinated and uncomfortable. He could see me interacting with Red, but couldn’t see nor hear her. “His name is Amir. He has been charged by the queen and king of Grimvein, his parents, to rescue Aurora, the sleeping princess.”

  “The sleeping princess?” Red’s features tightened. “What does that mean?”

  Of course. In whatever state my friend existed between our interactions, she was likely unaware of what went on in the corporeal realm. Why would she know of the curse?

  “Almost one hundred years ago, the rulers of Oldpass offended one of the great witches. They’d heard rumours that suggested the witch, Tanit, had died, and did not invite her to the royal princess’s first birthday.”

  “Tanit? I feel like that name means something to me,” Red said, running her thumb across her jawline.

  “Perhaps. She’s quite a powerful creature to have been able to cast a spell this strong.”

  Red raised her eyebrows as her hand fell away from her face. “I can’t recall anything specific. I assume the young girl grew up and faced some sort of trouble?”

  “Yes,” I replied. I only hoped she was worth finding and could in fact reawaken Oldpass and renew the alliance between our peoples. Otherwise, Amir and I were risking our lives—and our souls—for nothing. “Aurora. She was given many gifts by the other great witches at her first birthday celebration, but when Tanit arrived, she gave the child a darkness, an overpowering desire to touch the needle of a spinning wheel on her twenty-first birthday. In doing so, she’d initiate the sleeping curse. From what I understand, Tanit wanted her parents to suffer. It wasn’t really about Aurora. But twenty years of obsessive anxiety about the fate of your daughter? An effective revenge.”

  “By the gods, that’s awful. Those poor people. Knowing every single day brought your child closer to an early grave. I can’t imagine how dreadful that would feel. All because she wasn’t invited to a party? Truly?”

  “There’s probably more to the story, but it’s shrouded in legend and that’s all I know. She wasn’t the only one sent into an eternal sleep. The whole city has been dormant. No one’s been able to find a way in, or if they have, they’ve never come out again.”

  “But you’ve found a way?” she asked, her voice laced with excitement and fear.

  I nodded. I wanted to smile at her apparent fascination with the tale, but I couldn’t. No matter what happened, I would be alone at the end of the story. If we found her, Amir would have a bride. If we failed, well…then, we’d probably be dead.

  “How can I help?” Red asked.

  “We’ve found an entrance to a tunnel that leads under the siege wall and into the courtyard of Oldpass. But, as you can see, the way is blocked. I need to break through.”

  “Then we better get started.”

  I exhaled loudly and shifted my attention to the prince. “She can help.”

  “She’s really here? Right now?” Amir asked as he stood, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Does she look like us?”

  “Yes, and yes,” I replied. “Red will help me find a way past the wall.”

  “That’s brilliant. Can you touch her? Is she opaque?”

  I looked at Red, who raised one eyebrow in response to the prince’s curiosity. She was amused by his excitement. “She’s not transparent, Amir. I suppose she’s somehow…brighter than us. The colour of her hair, her eyes, her dress…it all shines like only things made of magic can.”

  “And my other question?” He waved his hand through the air, encouraging me to elaborate.

  Feeling Red’s attention on me, I smiled. “Yes, she can be touched,” I replied. Then, as I considered the question further, my smile faded. “But it’s much like interacting with someone in a dream. At the time, everything seems real, feels real. But when the dream has passed, you know for certain that—as sure as you may have been at the time—it never really happened.”

  “How sad.” He sighed sympathetically. “For her, I mean.”

  “Yes.” I hooked my thumb around my belt, searching the floor for a way to change the subject.

  “What happens now?”

  “Now,” Red said, “we work.”

  “He can’t hear you, remember?”

  “I know, I know.” She cocked her head to the side. “But I was feeling left out.” Red crossed her arms and grinned. “Ready?”

  “I am. Amir, are you ready for us to begin?”

  “Hmm? Need me to do anything? Or just stay out of the way again?”

  “That’s probably for the best,” Red said.

  “Yes, I agree with her.”

  He looked confused. The little creases between his eyebrows were sweet. Innocent, even. It must be quite marvellous to remain ignorant of the shadows that surround us. “Right. Sorry. My spirit friend says it’s best for you to stay back.”

  “I may be accustomed to giving the orders most of the time, but I have no intention of disobeying some kind of powerful spirit.” The prince shrank against the door we’d come through.

  Before I’d realised she had moved, Red slipped her hand into mine, entwining our fingers. My heart sped up, and I had to suppress that old, familiar pain at knowing we weren’t truly in the same place at the same time. Why did she still have that effect on me? Her presence, coupled with Amir’s, confused the very core of my soul. He was only a few feet away, the sound of his breathing filled the space, yet I couldn’t be with him. She held my hand, like she’d done so many times before, yet I couldn’t be with her.

  With the only two beings in either world to have touched my heart so near, I felt more alone than ever before.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Nothing. There’s nothing wrong. Tell me what to do.”

  “You already know, Talia.” She stroked her thumb across the back of my hand, as she always did when I needed her strength. Just like the first time she had found me, curled up on the floor at the age of fifteen, sobbing because my parents had signed away the next twenty years of my life in an ironclad employment contract. “Now do what you do best.”

  Breathing in, I closed my eyes. The room appeared in a range of red, yellow, orange, and green hues. No concealed windows or doors, not even a decent crack between blocks. Only the door we’d entered through stood out. It was darker, less colourful than the wall in which it rested.

  “Red, I can’t see anything.”

  “Look harder, my friend. Take what you need from me.”

  Her hand seemed to melt into mine, as though her essence passed through my skin and into my blood. Hot electricity darted through my veins. The immense power of Red’s energy shocked and exhilarated me more than any drug ever could. My chest heaved as I breathed.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “I know.” Her voice no longer came from the space beside me, but from within, like an echo of my own thoughts.

  “Won’t this hurt you?”

  “You could never hurt me.”

  I pushed out with my senses, feeling my way along every part of every wall. “There!” I saw through part of the wall across from the entrance as easily as if it were made of glass.

  A tunnel, obscured by an enchantment unlike any I'd seen before, stretched ahead of us and beneath the boundary of Oldpass. Ascending stairs stood guard at the opposite end of the corridor and hope filled my chest—we can get through!

  “You can do it, Talia.” Amir’s words pierced my concentration like sharp razors. He wanted to help, but I needed him to stay quiet.

  “Shhh,” I whispere
d. “Time to open it.”

  I stood and stepped in front of the door we’d discovered. With my index and middle fingers, I traced its outline. Amir gasped as a gold line appeared along the trail made by my fingers. I pressed my palm against the centre of the shape and pushed with the energy Red was feeding me. A loud crack bounced off the walls as the stones split apart.

  “Keep going.” Red’s words caressed my soul, fortifying my weakening heart.

  The stones continued to crack beneath my hand. I pulled back for a moment and then shot out again, like a runner on the homestretch, withholding nothing. My heart thundered in my ears. The stones broke apart, crumbling into a pile at my feet.

  Red withdrew. Her sudden absence hurt like a bandage ripped from a still-bleeding wound, and I gasped. I reached for her and found nothing but the air, hissing gently with fading magic.

  Amir wrapped his arms around my waist, catching me as I collapsed. We fell into each other, a crumpled heap of limbs on the floor. I wheezed like a fish washed ashore.

  “Breathe. Just breathe.” He stroked my hair, rocking me like a babe in his arms. My pulse slowed as I let go of my second sight, allowing myself the luxury of darkness behind closed eyes. In measured contractions, my body and mind recovered, breath by breath, moment by moment. Amir held me the whole time, his embrace both gentle and strong.

  “It worked,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” he replied. “You did it. That’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever witnessed. Are you okay?”

  “I will be. Give me a moment. Then, we find your princess.”

  Chapter Three

  WHEN I HEARD Red’s muffled voice, she sounded as though she were yelling from somewhere below, deep in the dirt. “Talia! Stop!”

  I froze.

  Amir looked over his shoulder. “What is it?”

  “There’s something wrong,” I replied, deadpan. There was no room for emotion. I needed to know the source of Red’s fear. The unnatural silence in the tunnel manifested itself as an intense pressure pushing against my body from all directions. Blood rushed to my head on a wave of fear. She wouldn’t have called out like that if it were safe to take even one more step, but I couldn’t feel her presence. She’d disappeared as quickly as she’d reemerged. I was on my own.

  “What do we do?” Amir moved his hand to the ornate pommel of his sword. Nothing could be achieved with that blade; surely he knew as much given their obvious isolation.

  I shook my head, raising my hand so he would stay where he was.

  He stood at ease and nodded. “I’ll let you concentrate.”

  Closing my eyes, I scanned the walls and the ceiling. Nothing stood out as unusual. Moving my attention to the floor, I noticed a shadowy patch of earth directly beneath my left foot.

  “Damn.” I opened my eyes. Amir’s ashen face mirrored the concern I felt overpower my own blanching features. “If I’d taken another step, I’d be dead.”

  Amir gulped as his eyebrows reached for his hairline. “W-what? How? I don’t understand.”

  “I’m standing on a pressure plate of some kind. My guess is that as soon as my weight is removed from the stone, something will happen. Something fatal. Your stride is larger than mine; you must have missed it.” I concentrated on keeping my voice steady. Matter-of-fact. Calm. If I could project confidence, perhaps I would feel it. Project! That’s it. That’s the solution. I might not have been a prince, but I was the Lead Caster. Being neither here nor there my entire life had brought me a lot of pain, but it also kept me safe.

  “What is it? You just told me you could die if you move, but you’re smiling. It’s somewhat off-putting, Talia.” At least I’d lightened the mood. He seemed less anxious already.

  “I can fix this,” I said, a slight grin pulling at the side of my mouth. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Are there any more of these traps?”

  “No. The steps are just ahead and I could only see this one. If there were others, we have passed them already.”

  I’d nearly depleted myself when I’d created the door, but regardless, I needed to cast one more spell. I breathed out through my mouth, straightened my arms, and held them tightly by my sides. I pulled my shoulders back, improving my posture. Amir gulped as I bent my right knee and lifted the foot off the ground as though to take a step. Holding the leg in midair, I envisioned standing with Amir, watching my own movements from a few steps away. The more I focused, the clearer the image became. When I’d formed an accurate outline of my short, slender body, my face, my hair, my boots, my belt… When it was all accounted for, my projected self reached toward my physical body. I took hold of my own hand and pulled, guiding my body forward, my right leg finally hitting the ground, my left leg then following it, away from the pressure trap. The moment I’d cleared the trap, my projected self disappeared and I became aware of my body again. It felt like I was being torn in half. It wasn’t painful, though, more like I was a large cloth being ripped down the middle. I could feel each thread separating, and then suddenly the sensation stopped.

  “Sweet mother of—”

  “I know,” I said. Amir’s shock spread across his face like ink blotted into parchment. “I’m pretty impressed, too.”

  “What happens to her, though?” His eyes looked past me.

  Oh, right. I’d forgotten. I turned to look at another version of myself, still standing on the pressure trap, leg raised. She was identical, yet lifeless. A statue without blood or breath or voice. Thanks to her, I still lived.

  “She’s not real.” I kept my eyes on her. Was that really what I looked like? A three-dimensional version was so different to a reflection in the glass. Her legs weren’t long, but they were strong. Straight, dark hair fell about her shoulders, emphasising the penetrating hardness of her amber eyes.

  I hoped my eyes were less empty than hers.

  “She’s just a shell?” Amir said.

  “Yes. Don’t worry. She won’t feel a thing.”

  He looked at me quizzically. I took his hand and led him up the passage as far as we could go before our way was blocked. “You don’t have to watch,” I told him. “But truly, she feels nothing. She’s a projection, a copy made from magic. I needed something that weighed exactly the same as I do. Everything inside of her is dead. Recycled energy that constantly hovers about us all.”

  “I feel like we should witness whatever happens to her. It seems wrong to turn away.”

  “I understand.”

  I pressed my palms together and intertwined my fingers. A thick, dull ache had formed in my chest. A side effect of casting. I did my best to ignore the heaviness, to infuse my words with magic drawn from the Other World.

  “Ad liberos!” Within a second, the copy slumped forward—a marionette released by its master.

  A loud pop sounded as the pressure plate activated. Spectacular light flooded the passageway as an intense, narrow column of blue flame shot up from the stone and swallowed her form. The heat of the spell forced Amir and me to turn away, to bury our faces in our arms. A smell something like burnt feathers assaulted my nostrils and lodged in the back of my throat.

  “By the goddess.” He righted himself and tugged at his tunic. “There’s nothing left. That flame must have been hotter than any I ever knew was possible.”

  “Tanit.” I swallowed. “She is powerful.” I wondered what had come of her. No one had seen her since Oldpass fell, but surely such a being was ageless. I doubted she had died. Not yet, anyway. Time would ravage the witch eventually, I supposed, but I could only assume it would take much longer than normally expected.

  “Are you sure the copy felt nothing?”

  “No more than a piece of pottery that falls to the floor, my prince. I promise.”

  With that, he sighed, as though exhaling his concern. His face softened. “You know,” he said with a grin. “You’re starting to make me look bad. I’m yet to do much at all to help with this rather perilous journey.”

  I tapped his chest
lightly with the back of my hand. “Don’t worry, my prince, I’m sure there will be something for you to do soon enough. Though you may regret wishing for such a thing.”

  As we ascended the moss-covered stone steps, fresh air entered through gaps in the antiquated hatch. I wouldn’t consider myself claustrophobic, but at that moment, breathing in the cool air from the world above, I was immensely grateful to have reached the end of the tunnel.

  “You’re tired,” Amir said, squeezing the top of my shoulder. “I’ll open this one.”

  “I’m not going to argue.” I smiled half-heartedly. The ache in my chest had dissipated, but breaking a hole in a thick, sturdy wall and then creating a projection so soon after had drained the energy from my limbs as surely as running around the entire perimeter of Grimvein would have. “It’s all yours.” I descended a few steps and then sat and leaned my head against the cold stone. I released the top button of my jacket, exposing my collarbone so I might better knead the side of my neck.

  “Could you please hold that stone up?” Amir climbed as high as he could before the way was blocked, and then turned to press his back against the wood. “Here goes,” he said, trepidation hanging from his words. Bending at the knees, he pushed against the hatch. It groaned and creaked in response, but did not open. Given his substantial height and build, it must have been incredibly heavy.

  As Amir worked to push it open, I wondered what would be on the other side. According to the king, the tunnel should have brought us beneath the centre of the royal courtyard, allowing us to bypass the walls. The last group to try and penetrate those walls was impaled by rusty pikes as thick as a man’s leg. There was no real way to know which stones were safe to climb and which were going to ignite one of the traps left behind by Tanit’s curse. Best to avoid them altogether.

  But what if the tunnel was no better? What if we were about to set off yet another trap, much like the pikes or the pressure plate? My hands started to shake.