by K. A. Linde
“We agreed on no suicide missions,” Cyrene muttered. “Kael and I have much unfinished business. And he has my sister. I don’t want to risk her.”
Sarielle puffed a bit of smoke out of her nose. Go then, soul sister. Leave the dragon you are bound to here in the mountains where she can do nothing to rescue you, save burn down the city you have ordered her not to burn down.
“You are so petulant when you don’t get in on the action.”
I was born for the wild and adventure.
“I believe we will see much more before this is all over.” Unfortunately.
Sarielle tugged lightly on the bond between them, and Cyrene smiled. It also made her ache, knowing that she and Avoca also had that same affection and it was missing. She could not reach out to Avoca right now, as she so wanted to. A mission that she should have had both of her bound sisters for.
She pushed the thought aside and concentrated on the present. She had a long night ahead of her, and that was just if she was not attacked, captured, or killed.
“Wish me luck,” she told Sarielle.
You do not need it. You have me.
Cyrene chuckled before hopping into the small skiff she had…borrowed. She adjusted her cloak to make sure that Shadowbreaker was completely concealed in the sheath on her back. She had changed into a nondescript, everyday dress. She knew it would be more cumbersome when it came to rowing or if she needed a quick escape, but it also would draw much less attention.
She took a seat, put the oars into position, and then nodded at Sarielle, who used her nose to push her off of the hidden shore they’d scouted. She’d estimated that it would be at least an hour of rowing down the Keylani. The current would do most of the work, and she would just use the oars mostly to keep herself out of trouble.
She could use her magic to make it go faster, but she wanted to use her magic as little as possible. The boundary around Byern had fallen, but it didn’t mean that Kael wouldn’t be able to sense her magic use. And if he could, this might all fall apart.
She steeled herself as night fell fully. Her only guidance the moon and the stars. She had passed a few other crafts, as if no one was bringing trade into Byern from Tahne, which was strange indeed. The country of Carhara was a great military strength, but trade had always been open between the two countries, especially in the heart of spring. What was brewing in Byern to keep them away?
Finally, she felt the current shift as it neared the great curve that led out of the Taken Mountains and through the capital city. The Nit Decus castle was nestled into the mountain off to her left. With all the strength she had, she pushed her little vessel toward it.
One benefit of having resided in the castle as an Affiliate was knowing that beneath the great castle was a series of waterways. It used to be a source of trade and a means of escape in the event the castle fell. She had been trapped in one of the underground tunnels and found her way out through a passageway into the stables. Her magic had saved her that night, even before she knew she had magic.
Now, she hoped that she could navigate those winding waterways once more.
Her skiff bobbed and rocked in the push of the current as she sliced through the water. Then she approached the bend that led her toward the entrance and off the main pathway. Once she neared the castle walls, she took a deep breath and sent the faintest trickle of her magic, searching out the entrance she knew existed.
But where she had expected it to be, it was no longer.
She only met hard gray stone.
“What in the Creator?” she breathed.
With a bite of her lip, she sent out another small pulse. It was there. It had to be.
“Come on,” she groaned.
Her eyes cast across the ramparts, and she wondered if, at any moment, she would be discovered. Last she had lived here, security had increased because of Edric’s paranoia. But would they expect an attack from the water?
Then she felt it.
Her heart sank.
The entrance she had been looking for was exactly where she had expected. Except that it was a dozen feet below her. Underwater.
She cursed softly. She hadn’t accounted for the snow runoff from the mountains raising the water levels. Completely obscuring the entrance. What was she going to do? She was too far in. She couldn’t back down now.
She didn’t test the temperature of the water. She knew it was still frigid from the chilling winter. She just stared down at the churning river in despair for a moment.
Then she tightened the strap on Shadowbreaker, tied her cloak around her waist, and hiked up the skirts of her dress. She wished that she had something to keep them out of her way. Creator, she wished that she had her fighting leathers rather than this impractical dress, and she never thought that she would hope for that.
A shiver ran down her as she stared at the black water. It was now or never. If she didn’t make a move, then she would be here all night. She said a prayer to whoever would listen and took a deep breath, and with all the force she could muster, she dove over the edge of the boat.
She knew this meant that she would have no exit strategy.
No boat to take her back out of the castle.
That there were threats within the water that could kill her long before she had a chance of escape.
Like hypothermia.
Or Skrivener water snakes.
Or who knew what other horrors her mind could conjure up?
Still, she kicked and kicked and kicked.
Air compressed in her chest. Her eyes strained against the black. Her hand reached out, aching to find that elusive entrance.
The weight of her dress dragged her down, down, down. Thank the Creator Shadowbreaker was made of light-as-a-feather Tendrille metal or else she would have sunk like a stone in the sea. But still, it was hard to navigate against the tangle of her skirts and the press of her cloak, the extra pounds of her clothing adding to her descent.
And still, there was no entrance.
Her air supply was running thin. A bubble escaped her and then another. How many more did she have?
Worse, it was getting harder to push her body. It was…freezing. Chilling her to the bone. She didn’t know how much longer she could last in the cold. If it would all be for nothing.
She reached and reached, but her fingers weren’t responding. She forced them to bend and stretch. To try to find that hidden entrance. The one she knew was down here. Even as it evaded her, ever out of reach.
She released another bubble. The lack of air beginning to constrict her, almost gone. She was nearly spent. The cold closing in. This was how it would end?
Then, she felt it.
An edge.
Cyrene grasped it with all her might, what little she had left. Then, she ducked under the archway and used her last moment of strength to kick off of the other edge. Her legs got tangled again in her dress. She couldn’t see the surface anymore. Not through the utter black all around her. It wasn’t there. She’d just entered a submerged tunnel. She didn’t have enough air to keep going.
She closed her eyes as sleep seemed to settle over her. Panic giving way to the chill, too.
Then, she pushed them open. No. No, not now.
She futilely kicked a few more times until, against all odds, she broke the surface.
Cyrene inhaled deeply. Fresh oxygen flooding her weakened system and bringing life back to her still-freezing limbs. Her eyes found the nearest shoreline, and she angled for it, fighting the chattering of her teeth.
She threw her arm over the side of the slimy stone and half-hauled, half-crawled onto its lip and out of the river.
For a moment, she just lay there, panting. Her head ached. Her body was shaking. Her skin turning from pink to blue.
She’d gambled on a tiny bit of magic to find the entrance. Someone might already be on their way to discover her here, dying from the cold. No reason not to use it now. She preferred to face the consequences alive.
Cyren
e closed her eyes and reached into the well of magic. The warmth within made her shudder with relief. She used her fire magic to slowly ease heat back into her extremities. It took more time than she thought she could spare, but she didn’t trust herself to move until every inch of her body was solid again and she wrung every drop of water out of her clothing.
Then, she lay there even longer, trying to push aside the weakness. She wished she had thought to bring something to eat with her to replenish her body. She had magic stored within the ruby honeycomb core of Shadowbreaker, but it didn’t help anything if she was physically exhausted.
When no alarm seemed to be raised to her presence, Cyrene finally rolled over and came to her feet. She moved forward through the underground waterways slowly at first and then with more confidence as she encountered no one. She trusted her own memory of the tunnels as well as her instincts. Before, she had been so confused by her instincts, which had shouted that there was magic here when she did not yet believe it existed. Now, she let the magic guide her.
She imagined, when the waterways had first been built, that they had been for the Leifs in Aonia to freely travel into the castle. That once what she had been told was the dreaded Doma court had actually been a benevolent people with ties to the other beings of Emporia. Not wholly good, but not as bad as Viktor Dremylon had ever believed they were.
It put a small smile on her face to consider. A hope for the future. Even as she feared for what she would find within this place that she had done everything to escape more than once.
Finally, she stopped before a tunnel that seemed to speak to her. The gentle pull of her Doma heritage leading her forward. And she listened.
Cyrene took the stairs up until it opened on a doorway. She swallowed back her fear, pulled her hood up, and made sure her sword wasn’t visible before stepping into the empty corridor. She turned to the left and tried to get her bearings about her. She knew at the next turn where she was within the walls. In the ancient part of the castle. The original part of the castle based on what she had seen in Vera’s visions. A part that had been largely deserted in her tenure here. She hoped that remained true, especially in the dead of night.
She oriented herself toward the room Serafina had shown her. It was amazing to her that the Doma chamber had been preserved. She had assumed it had been demolished and rebuilt in all these years. But it made sense after seeing Sera’s sacrifice.
She took another turn and nearly ran into a patrol of guardsmen. She slipped backward into a darkened alcove with her heart in her throat and watched them pass her by. Unseen, she shivered and then slipped past them.
That had been close. She was only a few hallways away from where the chamber should be. After nearly dying in the river, she felt like this was almost too easy. And then, immediately, she wished she hadn’t thought it as a hand clamped down on her shoulder.
“You there!” one of the guards yelled at her. “You know that no one is supposed to be out after curfew.”
Creator, Creator, Creator. She didn’t want to kill him. She didn’t want to kill anyone. But she would if she had to.
“S-sorry,” Cyrene said, hoping against all hope that she had never encountered this guard. That he didn’t know who she was. That she could do what she had to do.
She pulled her magic in tight and was ready to unleash on him when he whirled her around. Then, with a sharp gasp, he dropped his hand and backed away. His military training kicked in, and he stood at attention. His hand went to his breast where he beat his fist against the Dremylon D twice.
“My apologies. I didn’t…I didn’t realize it was you. Or that you would be out. Of course, you have the right of the castle, Affiliate. Whatever you like to do.” His gaze slipped to her and then back over her head. He continued on before she could do anything but stare at him, dumbfounded. “Just please don’t tell the king. King Kael is so busy these days. He doesn’t need to know about this.”
He waited for her to say something. But she didn’t know what to say.
“Do you need an escort anywhere? Back to your chambers? Or to the king’s chambers? I can…I can do that.”
Who the hell did he think she was? Still, she said nothing.
“Affiliate Elea?” he murmured hesitantly. “Do you…do you plan to tell His Majesty?”
Elea. He thought that Cyrene was her sister. Realization and dismay dawned on her. Rhea had told her that Elea was close to Kael. The fact that he had taken her with him to Aurum for the battle proved that. She knew that Elea had been spying on Kael for the Network. But going to Kael’s quarters? That seemed…well, Cyrene didn’t know what she thought about that.
“No,” she finally said. “I have no plans to tell him.”
The guard visibly relaxed. “Excellent. Do you need any assistance?”
“At present, I need you to forget that I was ever here. I am on urgent business for His Majesty, and you never saw me.”
“Of course. I will be on my way then.”
The guard did an about-face and then marched back down the hallway as if she had never been there.
Cyrene stared after him in dismay. What exactly was Elea doing in the castle that was scaring the guardsmen? She frowned and hated that she couldn’t go find out. Couldn’t spirit her sister away from this hellhole.
Instead, she wrapped the cloak tighter around her and continued until she reached the hallway where the chamber was supposed to be. Except…there was nothing there. Just a long stretch of stone. And nothing else.
10
The Chamber
Cyrene’s gaze swept up and down the empty hallway. She didn’t remember having ever been here before. Maybe she wouldn’t have even remembered it since there was nothing of consequence here. And somehow, there was supposed to be an entrance to the chamber of the Doma court.
Cyrene was skeptical.
Serafina had said that she would have the ability to enter the room. She and Serafina shared blood after all. But that didn’t suddenly make the doorway appear out of thin air.
She glanced back down the corridor with a frown. She didn’t know how much longer this would be empty. Especially considering there were patrols. She doubted that she would get a free pass from everyone if they thought she was Elea. Affiliates still had rules. Or at least, they had when she was here. Maybe, with Malysa’s influence and Kael’s insanity, everything had deteriorated.
Turning back to the blank wall, she focused, trying to sense if something about it was different. But, unlike her time in the tunnels, there was nothing. Nothing about this even whispered magic. Her sacrificial spell had clearly been a bit too perfect.
Cyrene started at the end of one side and ran her hands along the stone. It was cool to her touch. As hard and unyielding as ever. She rapped her knuckles against every other stone. The sound of it sharp and crisp. Her knuckles taking the brunt of the hit. Solid. It was all solid.
She tapped the next stone.
Knock, knock.
The sound was hollow.
Cyrene stopped in her tracks. She was roughly halfway down the wall. Her eyes scanned the stone before her. It looked no different than the stone she had just been touching. And yet…it was hollow. The stones were wrong.
She tapped her way for another half-dozen steps before the hollow sound disappeared. Then, she reassessed the space. If she was correct, the doorway was about six feet wide, and she was standing directly in front of it.
She chewed on her lip. Was she supposed to do something? She pushed against the stone. Just as solid as the rest. There was no doorway. No hidden keyhole. Nothing that she could discern in the dim light of the hallway. How was she supposed to get through? Why hadn’t Serafina told her?
“Oh,” she whispered and then again, “Oh.”
With a swallow, she dropped the hood of her black cloak. Then she reached behind her and pulled forth Shadowbreaker. Her hand shook as she stared at the razor-sharp edge of her sword in dismay.
She sliced open her pal
m with the blade, cringing as pain lanced up her arm. She had endured worse, but Creator, it hurt. Carefully replacing her sword, she took a deep breath, hoping this would work, and then pressed her cut hand against the center of the hollow stones.
As her hand touched the stone, she felt the blood on her palm begin to burn. She jumped in shock at the horrible sensation. As if the stone was…corroding the blood. She almost jerked her hand away when, suddenly, the place where her hand had been was gone.
She stared at her arm. But no wrist. No hand. No fingers.
It was no physical door at all. But a portal of sorts.
She hesitantly pushed forward, up to the elbow. When nothing horrible happened, she took a step, bracing herself for the worst, and left the hallway behind.
Cyrene appeared on the other side of the hallway, facing a long, dark room. She turned around, expecting to see the hard stone doorway, but it was gone. She cursed under her breath. Had she completely opened the doorway? Could anyone follow her now?
She narrowed her eyes in frustration and then tried to walk back out. She practically bounced off of a solid wall.
“Creator,” she groaned, rubbing her arm. Was it closed behind her, too?
She put up her bloodied palm that was still pulsing in pain and tentatively pushed it against the wall. It went straight through.
All right then. Blood in and blood out.
At least she wouldn’t have to keep looking over her shoulder.
No, she had to move forward into a room that no one had been in for two thousand years. She frowned before lighting a Doma Fire and holding it aloft before her. It illuminated what she’d thought was a room, but it was actually a tunnel. Great.
She found a torch bracketed against the wall to her right and yanked it from its rusty position. She lit the fire so that she could drop her magic and then began her descent into the darkened tunnel.
It was about as creepy as she had anticipated since no one had been in here in so long. Apparently, the banishment of anything from getting in here only went as far as humans. Because creatures skittered across the ground. Something hissed at her from an alcove that she did not want to meet at night. She found the spiderwebs covering the path the hard way by walking straight into one. She was almost certain a rat ran over her foot. She barreled on to escape thinking about it. She had taken on a full-fledged Nokkin and won, but a rat? She shuddered. Gross.
