by Melody Rose
As we neared the hole, the scent of the Library changed. Cinnamon and apple cider wafted through the air, with a touch of lavender and sandalwood snuck in there too. I closed my eyes and took a big breath in, savoring the smell.
“Do you smell it too?” Freja asked as she spotted me, still and sniffing.
“The mole said something about the exit being the best smelling part of the Library,” I remembered with my eyes still closed. “We must be getting close.”
“That or a fresh rain has just descended on the Library,” Freja said with a half-grin.
“I think we would know if that happened,” I replied with a half-smile of my own. “That is what you smell? Fresh rain?”
“It is morning dew,” Freja corrected. “And an evergreen tree. The needles and the sap.” She shook her shoulders a little as if a shiver ran down her spine. “It makes me think of home.”
“Mine are food-based,” I realized. “I don’t know what that says about me.”
“Probably that you are hungry,” Freja analyzed. “And, in all honesty, I cannot blame you. I do not know how long we have been down here, but it is long enough for me to start to worry about provisions.”
“Well, come on then.” I broke into a jog and passed Freja in a run. “We’re so close. Let’s close the gap.”
Freja took up my challenge and pumped her legs forward. We ran in tandem, like a practiced duo, until Freja nearly tripped on a stack of books, and I burst into the lead. I couldn’t help myself. I let out a triumphant battle cry when I reached the hole.
The stone structure ascended upward and through the ceiling. However, like at the entrance, there was an arch that led to the center of the hole. I figured that all we had to do was step through, and we could go up. I wasn’t sure if it was going to be magic or if we would have to climb something. All I did know was that I was ready to leave this place.
I wanted to feel the sunlight on my face, touch the cold snow with my bare hands, and taste a clear stream of water. The underground Library was disorienting and menacing. All I could hope was that we could get up to the surface and that Hannan and Julei were waiting for us, book and key in hand.
I paused in the archway and put a hand against the stone to steady myself as I caught my breath. Freja stopped at the edge, the faintly defined barrier between the exit and the remnants of the Library. She bounced on the balls of her feet, but instead of joining me by the arch, she slammed her heels back into the ground like she was planting herself there for the long haul.
“What are you doing?” I asked when I glanced up at her face.
Freja’s skin drained of blood, turning a translucent white. Her eyes gazed up and down the tower with a nervousness and fear I had yet to see on my soldier friend ever. Something terrified her. More than the cave-in, more than the literal mole, and more than swinging from a tall bookcase to stab a snake.
My own eyes widened at her expression, thinking that she spotted something that I hadn’t. Panic stirred in my stomach as I considered what my next move would be. I couldn’t tap into the light source. I promised I wouldn’t disturb it until it was fully healed, which was still a night’s rest or two away.
Cautiously, I donned Lucien’s armor skin and stepped out from the archway. I tiptoed over to Freja and looked up, expecting to see a giant spider or something equally scary.
However, nothing was there. Just the stone, stacked atop one another.
“Freja.” I spread out her name over three syllables instead of the normal two. “What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”
“I cannot go back in there,” Freja whispered. Her lips barely moved, and I wasn’t sure if I heard her correctly at first.
“Go back in where?” I jerked my thumb behind me towards the archway and the hole. “In the hole?”
Freja nodded, just one head bob. Definitive and precise.
“Why not?” I wondered, my voice raising an octave as I asked that question.
“I will not do it,” Freja said definitively. “I will not go through it again.”
“Freja,” I tried her name again in an attempt to center her. I reached out my hands to place them on her shoulders, but she stepped away from me.
“Do not touch me.” Freja held out a shaky hand. “Please.”
I held up my hands by my head in surrender. “Okay, okay, I won’t touch you.”
The whole situation was so strange. It was as though I was dealing with an entirely different creature. Freja, the brave and beautiful soldier who had talked only moments ago about her ability to push through her emotions, now cowered before me. Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes, and her mouth hung open slightly, producing labored breaths.
“Okay, okay,” I repeated in the same calming tone as before. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
Freja babbled incoherently. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
“Freja,” I said slowly. “You’ve got to tell me what’s happening. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
The soldier’s chest rose and fell at an alarming rate. I looked into her hazy eyes and recognized the signs of someone on the verge of a panic attack.
“I know you don’t want to be touched, but you need to focus on me,” I blurted urgently. I had to bring her back to the moment and let her know that she was safe. “Can you do that, Freja? Can you hear me and focus on what I’m saying?”
Freja nodded vigorously, though she refused to make eye contact with me.
“That’s great, just listen to my voice,” I coached her. “We’re going to go through this. Whatever it is, it can’t hurt you. I’m here, you’re here, we’re here together. We’ve got this. Julei said so, remember? We make it out of here and back to the dragons. We’ve got to make it back to the dragons.”
My brain raced through my thoughts faster than my words. I rattled on, trying to say something, anything to get Freja to refocus and return to me. The image of a small hedgehog appeared at the forefront of my mind’s eye.
“Think of Bloomer, okay?” I urged her. “You have to get back to Bloomer. He’s going to be missing you. You have to push through and get back to your djer.”
Freja swallowed a mouthful of air. She held it in her throat for a solid three seconds because exhaling.
“That’s good, that’s great,” I encouraged. “Keep breathing.”
Freja repeated the exercise, over and over again, until her breathing steadied. It regulated to a normal rate, and I found myself doing the measuring breathing in time with her. We mirrored one another, slowly but surely lowering our heart rates and coming back to the present.
The color returned to Freja’s face. She still shook, but less so now. It was only the occasional jitter here and there, residual effects from the adrenaline of the panic.
“There you go,” I said with a weak smile. “Good job.”
“I do not know what came over me,” Freja said, her voice hoarse. She cleared it before continuing. “I thought I was going to die.”
“That happens sometimes,” I tried to explain but then realized that came out wrong. “The thinking you’re going to die thing. You think you’re not getting enough air because you’re freaking out about something.”
“I could not seem to get out from behind it.” Freja closed her eyes and shook her head. “All I could think about was feeling his hands all over me again. I could not… I just could not face that again. I thought about what I experienced with you and was terrified to imagine what you felt from my past. I do not wish that on anyone.”
Pieces fell into place as Freja gave me the last clues about what I faced when coming down the hole. My heart leaped to my throat, and my fists tightened in rage.
“Is he gone?” I asked through gritted teeth. “Is he gone now?”
“He is in the dungeons,” Freja reported, resorting back to her official soldier tone. “I believe he deserves worse.”
My thoughts traveled to the dank, damp, and dark d
ungeons of Ansdyer, located beneath the court. I thought of all the criminals I passed during the two visits I had. It was two visits too many. As terrible as it was down there, anyone that could have hurt Freja in such a manner deserved much worse.
“I thought about killing him so many times,” Freja admitted in a small voice, the closest to shame I had ever heard from her. “I have access to the dungeons. I know how to do it. It would be so easy.”
“Why didn’t you?” I wondered, knowing that she would be completely justified in her actions, that not even King Elroy would fault her, knowing the kind of king he was.
Freja shook her head. “I want nothing to do with him ever again. I understand what he did was wrong and how badly he hurt me, but I don’t want to break the law. I do not want to ruin my reputation with the guard for him. He is not worth it.” The soldier spat on the ground. “So, I leave him to rot.”
“You’re afraid to go back up through the hole because you don’t want to relive those memories?” I translated, bringing the subject back to the challenge at hand.
“I do not know if I can do it,” Freja whimpered. “Not again.”
“Something tells me this hole isn’t like the first one,” I said, speaking slowly as the thoughts came to me. “The moles said they find this one because it smells like the best smell in the world. There’s no way that’s associated with bad memories.”
“It could be a trap,” Freja warned. “Often, terrible things are masked by something pleasant.”
I had a feeling she was speaking from personal experience, but I didn’t ask any more questions. The woman had been through enough soul-baring. We both had for the time being.
Instead, I offered my hand to her. She didn’t take it right away. Freja simply stared at it and then up at me.
“We came down into this place together,” I said, “and we will leave it together. If we have to go through the terrors all over again, then we will go through them together. Trust me, I’m not too thrilled with the idea of having to experience my worst memories either.”
“I am sorry,” Freja said, surprising me. “I am sorry you had to experience even a moment of that. I do not wish that on anyone.”
“You’re sorry?” I said, baffled. “I’m sorry. The last thing I want is to share my emotional baggage with others. You don’t deserve that.”
“Neither of us deserved any of it,” Freja concluded with her chin held high.
“No, we didn’t,” I agreed. “I have to believe that we are better women because of it.”
“I like to believe that as well.” Freja, then, took my hand.
I looked down at her stiff, dry fingers wrapped around mine. “Maybe that’s the point. Maybe we’re supposed to share this with others.”
“No.” Freja shook her head sternly. “Not everyone would understand. Not everyone would be able to handle it. But now, I know you can.”
Her belief in me brought a smile to my face. I let the bittersweetness travel through my veins until I had enough courage to lead Freja through the archway.
It was like stepping through a wind tunnel. The minute our feet crossed over the threshold, we were whisked up into the air. Our bodies automatically flattened out, arms and legs spread wide like skydivers. It was a gentle push, like riding on a fast elevator.
As we zoomed upward, a white light surrounded us. At first, I was worried that it was coming from me, that I had accidentally summoned the light. But then I realized it glowed through the cracks in the stone.
The light formed together until the whole tunnel was coated in a blanket of white. It wasn’t quite the white space I was used to but something wholly similar. Scenes played out on the white, like a drive-in screen.
I saw the bright and smiling faces of two older humans. They giggled and grinned like two teenagers in love. An endearing feeling swept over me, mixed with one at their embarrassing public display of affection.
The scene shifted to a man I recognized as Donnel. He had a proud expression on his face and reached out like he was putting something on my neck. My chest swelled with a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.
Finally, there was a landscape before me where the rain fell. It was dark and rather gloomy as the water dripped from the sky. However, no sense of melancholy or dread followed. There was only a feeling of calm and serenity. I could feel the prickles of cold on my skin, and I exhaled a sigh of relief.
Just as quickly as the ascent started, it finished. The flashes of happiness disappeared as our vision went dark, for the briefest of moments. Nothing longer than a blink.
Suddenly we found ourselves laying face down in the snow. Cold seeped under my fingers and wet tainted my clothes. However, the sun shone overhead, so bright that I had to open and close my eyes several times before I could adjust to it.
Freja laid beside me, groaning. She, too, blinked rapidly like she was waking from a long sleep. When our eyes connected, her cheeks turned red. But that also could have been from the snow.
“What?” I asked her. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
“Let me guess,” Freja said through a cheeky grin. “You saw and felt some of my happiest memories?”
“I believe so,” I replied, still skeptical of her expression. “Why? What did you see?”
Before Freja could respond and explain her brazen smile, a voice interrupted us.
“Eva!” someone called from far away. “Freja! They are over here!”
Rapid footsteps raced towards us. I managed to get myself up to a sitting position before a small body collided with mine and pulled me into a tight hug. I fell back into the snow with Julei on top of me. She clung to my neck like a child would a rag doll.
“I knew you would make it out,” Julei shouted into my ear. “I just knew it.”
“Julei,” Hannan scolded playfully. “Julei, let her breathe.”
The young girl pulled away from me, and I sat back up, no longer caring about how soaked my garments were. I was so excited to see Julei sitting in front of me, unharmed. Hannan stood over her by where Freja sat. The four of us were, once again, reunited after the harrowing journey beneath the ground.
“Oh, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see your faces,” I said with a grin. I pulled Julei back into a hug. I wanted to jump up and kiss Hannan plain on the mouth but resisted the urge. Instead, I shot him a smile which he returned wearily.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, pulling back from Julei and calling Hannan out immediately. “What happened?” I looked around and noticed the dragons weren’t with them. “Where are the dragons? Are they okay?”
“They are fine,” Hannan assured me. “A little disappointed, but they will be happy to know you are alright.”
“Why are they disappointed?” Freja asked the obvious.
Hannan opened his mouth and then closed it again, unsure how to continue.
“It is the key,” Julei supplied for him.
“What is the key?”
“It is the reason they are disappointed,” Julei clarified, her own voice turning sour.
“Why are they disappointed with the key?” I repeated Freja’s question but with a slower and more hesitant tone.
“Because there is not one,” Hannan said, taking back the conversation. “There was no key in the book.”
17
Kehn
We traveled in the snow for as long as we could. Up in the air, however, the storm was significantly worse than if we ventured by foot. The dragons preferred it, though. By foot was much slower for them, and thus, more frustrating. As such, we humans, and Uri, dealt with the pelting snow for far longer than any of our limbs would have liked.
By the time we convinced the dragons to land, I had thought that my nose was going to fall off, and I had lost feeling in my fingers and toes, despite the heavy garments I wore.
We huddled under some sparse trees. In this part of the continent, the trees were thinner and more spread out. That left little room for shelter or cover
from the onslaught of the snow.
“We cannot stay out here all night,” I warned the others. “We have to find someplace to get some rest and build a fire.”
“Kehn is right,” Troylan agreed. “We will freeze otherwise.”
“We must seek shelter for the humans,” Chyndron repeated to the dragons like he was translating our request into a different language.
“We should have just kept flying,” Lucien argued. With his green armor, he seemed unphased by the snow, although it shocked the rest of the party when his rocky exterior suddenly disappeared for an extended period of time.
That was the moment we learned about Lucien’s gift to Eva. I already knew about it, of course, having been on the receiving end of it before. However, I did not know the weakened position it put the dragon in when she called upon the gift. It was a dangerous game of trust if you asked me.
“We would not have made it,” Heloise argued. Her djer, a bat named Xavier, was buried in the front of her shirt, a little lump protruding from her chest.
Uri shivered between my legs and plagued my mind with colorful curses about the wicked white fluff. It was rather distracting. However, she seemed perfectly content with relaying all of her discomfort to me.
“We might have to go back up in the air,” I concluded as I thought it through. “If it is faster, we also might be able to spot somewhere from up above.”
“We cannot see anything from up there,” Stella snapped. Her voice was as chilled as the surrounding air. “It is a complete whiteout from the skies, especially with the low-hanging clouds.”
“Then we travel on foot until we find something substantial,” I suggested.
“It better be more than substantial,” Uri complained in my mind. “It better be somewhere heated with a blazing fire and several blankets and--”
I exhaled heavily and closed my eyes in an effort to block her out. Unfortunately, she refused to stop the onslaught of complaints.
“Look,” I said sharply. I had to raise my voice of the howling wind, which seemed to want to give its own opinion on our situation. “We will die if we do not move. We cannot stay here. It is rough, yes, we all know this, but it will be worse if we have to start burying one another.”
