Spellweaver

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Spellweaver Page 29

by Tamara Grantham


  There were no trees, no lakes, no ponds, not even weeds. The air grew cold as the sun set and the wind picked up. I used my cloak to shield my nose and mouth from the sand cloud.

  Every now and then, Kull glanced behind us and then straight ahead, as if searching for something. The farther we walked, the more agitated he became. Darkness encroached, so we made the decision to set up camp.

  No one spoke as we rolled out our blankets and lay to rest on the rocky ground. When I closed my eyes, sleep wouldn’t come—there was a chill in the air that I couldn’t shake. After finally drifting off, I was soon awoken by Kull kneeling over me. When I sat up, I saw that it was still dark.

  “How long did we sleep?” I asked.

  “A few hours. The princess got anxious, as did I. We cannot afford to rest any longer.”

  He helped me stand up and pack what little we had, and then we continued our journey in the darkness, the sound of the howling wind loud in our ears.

  After hours of traveling, with sunrise approaching, I spotted a large mass huddled under the glowing moonlight. When we got closer, I recognized the mass as a large building. Crumbling pillars rose into the sky. Tall, gaunt sculptures of hooded skeletons stood watch over a rusted iron gateway. Chills prickled my skin. We’d found the temple.

  Kull glanced back, his eyes drawn with worry.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  He hesitated. “Yes, I believe so.”

  “What’s the matter? Are we being followed?”

  “No,” he said, and then pointed to a dark spot on the ground.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “A partial footprint,” he answered after the princess was out of earshot. “We are not being followed, but rather, we are following someone.”

  “Who?”

  He shook his head. “I cannot say. Whoever it is has taken great precautions to hide their identity.”

  “Do you think the princess knows?”

  “I am sure of it. She knew her way through the tunnels too easily.”

  “But, who are we following?”

  “It is impossible to say. Although, if I am correct, the infiltrator seems to be one step ahead of us. This path we take is one of grave danger.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  As Kull, the princess, and I approached the labyrinth’s gates, the wind howled with a low moan that rose in pitch until it became a wail. We walked beneath a towering portcullis, the stones of its frame black and crumbling, and then stepped into a cobbled courtyard.

  The wind stopped. Overhead, the sky was still dark and flecked with stars. Why had the wind suddenly died down? I detected no magic here. Peering around the courtyard, I hoped to find some reason for the odd shift in weather. Three arched doorways stood before us, but beyond them, I saw only darkness.

  “Which one should we go through?” I asked.

  “My crystals will show us the way.” She walked across the courtyard, the open space making her footfalls echo. She stopped at a crumbling fountain carved in the shape of a ball. A crescent-shaped symbol rose from the fountain’s centermost point. I followed the princess to the fountain. On closer inspection, I found a hole on top, just below the moon-shaped symbol, from which I assumed water would have spouted, but now only an empty cavity remained.

  Princess Euralysia looked up at me, her shadowed blue eyes intense. “These structures are called silvergates. Their purpose is to preserve the temple and all knowledge contained within. They protect the fortress from storms, armies, and anything else that might harm it.”

  “Then how are we to destroy them?”

  “It will not be easy. I will need both of you to aid me.” She pulled off her necklace and removed one crystal from the chain. Holding it carefully, she handed the crystal to Kull.

  “Kull,” she said, “only a non-magic user can place the stone into the silvergate. Olive, your Earth magic and the magic of the Everblossom are necessary to activate the spell once the stone is positioned correctly. Once it is activated, a light will appear from this shaft and point in the direction of the second silvergate, and it, in turn, will guide us to the final gate. Once we have activated all three gates, the fortress will be destroyed.”

  I wanted to go along with her, but how could I be sure this was the right thing to do? She wanted me to use the Everblossom’s powers for destruction. I wouldn’t destroy anything unless I positively knew I was doing the right thing.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked. “How can you be certain that destroying the temple will help me restore the magic?”

  “Think of the prophecy again,” she said. “Does it not mention this very place?”

  I rehearsed the prophecy. “Over the sea of a thousand faces, let the silver light show the way.” I paused. “Let the silver light show the way,” I repeated.

  Princess Euralysia held out her hand. The beryl-shaped crystal glinted with a pale silver luminosity. “We will restore the magic,” she said, “but we can only do it together.”

  I inhaled a deep breath. “Very well. I’ll do what I can.”

  She nodded, then gave the Illumina crystal to Kull, and he accepted it. Moonlight fell across his chest and broad shoulders as he carefully placed the crystal into the opening. It fell into place with a click.

  “Now, Olive,” the princess said, “use the Everblossom’s magic to activate the spell.”

  “How?”

  “The magic will show you.”

  I held my hand over the stone, feeling the power inside. It was an extremely old spell, older than the spell on the pixie’s bridge in the badlands. The bluish wisps of magic were elven, although I also saw amber swirls mingling with the blue. Closing my eyes, I focused on the spell.

  “Why do I feel Earth magic in the gate?” I asked the princess.

  “Originally, the elves created the spell with all forms of magic—dragon, elven, pixie, goblin, and even Earth magic. They wished to ensure their enchantments stayed intact through any kind of calamity.”

  I concentrated harder and found traces of inactive spells throughout the stone. “Yes, I can feel the other spells. They must have weakened with the loss of magic.”

  Looking up at the princess, I was startled to find that her shadowed eyes looked ghostly in the moonlight. I wanted to trust her, but that nagging in the back of my mind wouldn’t relent. Still, if I wanted to restore the bloom to its proper place, then I knew I had no other choice but to break through the silvergate’s spell.

  Inhaling, I opened my pack and pulled out the orb. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to its radiant light, such a contrast to the darkness I’d become accustomed to. With careful fingers, I touched the worn stone of the silvergate with one hand and held the orb in the other. I focused my magic on the spell. Once I found its source, I mentally pulled at its loose edges, like unraveling a thread from a woven tapestry. I pulled with a gentle pressure, enough to break the spell apart from the outside, until I felt the power in the spell’s core.

  This part would be more complicated.

  I applied pressure to the spell’s center, feeling the layers crack under my magic until it released and moved into the Illumina crystal.

  “Was the spell supposed to move into the crystal?”

  “Yes,” the princess answered. “It will remain active in the crystal until we’ve destroyed all three gates.”

  Relieved, I stepped away from the stone. Dizziness disoriented me for a moment. I steadied my breathing, letting air fill my lungs and clear my head.

  A faint blue light glowed from the crystal shard. With a groan, the rounded stone rolled onto its side, the light growing brighter, until a silver beam pointed to the middle doorway.

  “I’m guessing we should go through this one?” Kull said.

  I quickly replaced the orb in my pack, then slung my bag over my shoulder. No one answered Kull as we walked to the doorway. That feeling of anxiety increased, souring my stomach, making the darkness seem to suffocate us.

 
Sculptures of hooded skeletons stood at every corner in the fortress. I did my best to ignore them as we walked through the doorway and into a narrow hall. Images of broken skulls lined the walls from floor to ceiling. But who would spend so much time carving each individual skull into a wall? Looking closer, I gasped.

  “Are these real skulls?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Kull answered, fingering one. “Yes, I believe they are.”

  It reminded me of the tunnels under Paris. I’d once read that three million skeletons had been neatly and uniformly interred underneath the streets. Most were victims of the plague or the French Revolution. Had something similar happened here? Had there been some sort of plague? What could cause so many deaths? Who were these people to begin with?

  The hallway widened into a chamber. Before us stood rows of coffin-length tables. I walked to one of the tables. Years of bloody gore were apparent on its surface. Thickened, congealed blood had dried into the stone, staining it a dark brownish-red.

  I walked to the back of the room and found the walls lined with blades that ranged from small to machete-length hanging on rusted nails. Most were stained the same color as the tables.

  “What in the world happened here?” I asked.

  Kull stood beside me and studied the wall. “These are not knives used in combat.”

  “No,” I answered. “These remind me of the instruments we use in Earth Kingdom for surgeries.”

  I glanced back at the tables. The princess stood away from us. Unlike me and Kull, she didn’t seem surprised by the gory scene. She stood with her arms crossed, her eyes focused ahead.

  Elves were usually appalled by such scenes. But not now. Although I was half-elven, I was beginning to realize how little I knew about them.

  “Your people did this, didn’t they?” I asked her.

  “I cannot say for sure.”

  “Why not?”

  “History is always a muddled subject, especially the history of a place where so many of its accounts have been erased.”

  “You’re dodging my questions. Why?”

  She shook her head. “We do not have time for this. Follow me.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the room. The beam of silver light shone straight ahead until it reached a dusty, mirrored surface on the back wall. The beam refracted and then pointed in the direction of the door that the princess had walked through. I turned to Kull before following her.

  “Do you know what happened here?”

  He glanced in the direction of the door. “I am sworn not to reveal what I know.”

  “You won’t even tell me?”

  “I gave an oath, Olive.”

  “Right. An oath. I shouldn’t have asked.” I turned away from him, feeling frustrated and a little betrayed, when he grabbed my arm. He pulled me closer and pressed his lips to my ear.

  “She fears for you to know the truth.”

  “Why?”

  “She is afraid that her closely guarded lie will be revealed. But she is only delaying the inevitable. Soon, you will find out the truth, and when that happens, you must not let her realize that you know, or she will kill you.”

  I stared at him, shocked. “Kill me? Kull, what happened here?”

  “I cannot tell you. But if you keep your mind open, then soon you will understand.”

  I nodded. He took my hand and led me out of the room.

  Euralysia’s silhouette appeared at the end of the hallway, lit only by the silver light. She had a waifish form that seemed to move like smoke. We followed her past another mirror that focused the light down a hallway to our right, and then we entered a huge room.

  The same sun motif that we’d found in the dragon caves was also in this room. Scrolls sat on dusty shelves, and slivers of early morning sunlight drifted through skylights overhead, illuminating the stonework and elaborately carved pillars.

  “Wait for me here,” the princess said. “I shall return shortly.” She wandered into the towering stacks until she was out of sight.

  Instead of waiting, Kull pulled me outside the room and into a separate hallway.

  “What are we doing?” I asked.

  He shook his head. When we made it to the mirror we’d passed earlier, he glanced at it and then turned to me.

  “I noticed it when we walked past earlier. There is a small lever, see here?” He pointed to a green oxidized bar that ran vertically along the wall, just outside the mirror’s frame.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I am not sure, but there may be something hidden behind this mirror.” He pulled the lever, and the mirror swung open. Cobwebs clung to the edges, and Kull brushed them away to reveal a small opening leading inside a dark room.

  “A secret passageway?” I asked.

  “No, a secret room.”

  “What’s inside?”

  “I cannot say for certain, but I suspect this is the place where we will find the answers to our questions. However, we must be quick. The princess will become suspicious if we are gone too long.”

  “I understand.”

  We entered the darkened room. Only the silver light from outside the doorway lit the small space. Rounded tubes, similar to the iron lungs used during polio epidemics, lined the walls. Small, rounded windows had been worked into the tubes’ metallic surfaces. Some of the windows had burst open, and globs of goo oozed from the broken glass.

  I glanced inside one of the busted tubes. A corpse floated in a gelatinous solution. My stomach clenched at the smell of rotting organ tissues.

  The corpse may have been decades old, perhaps even centuries old. But now, with the loss of magic and the preservation properties gone, the flesh had begun to rot. Yellow clumps of fat, sinew, and muscle bulged and broke through the bloated skin. Gray skeleton peeked through the broken tissues. The gases produced from the rotting corpse must have caused the glass to rupture.

  My stomach heaved.

  Kull stood with me, but his face gave no indication of emotion. He stood with a straight back and clenched jaw, his hand on his sword.

  I backed away from the corpse and leaned against the wall. The bricks were too warm. Or was I too warm? I couldn’t be sure.

  Tears stung my eyes as the death-stench engulfed my lungs. Holding my breath didn’t help much. I shielded my nose with the crook of my arm as I tried to leave the room, but Kull stopped me.

  “What did you see?”

  “A rotting corpse. Not much else.”

  “Look again.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t answer, although I knew I had overlooked something important. More than anything, I wanted to leave the room, but I needed answers, so I forced myself to walk back to the metal sarcophagus. Peering inside, I did my best to take everything in. But what was I looking for?

  The decomposition suggested the corpse had been rotting for at least a week, which confirmed my suspicions that it would have started decaying when the magic had faded. Small wires ran from the inside of the metal capsule straight into the person’s brain. Some sort of mental manipulation, perhaps? But why would they need to experiment on the brain?

  I was reminded of my conversation with the princess about the voic-py’anah. Was this the elven torture she had spoken of?

  I moved to the next capsule. Sweat beaded on the back of my neck. How much longer could I hold my breath?

  The body in this capsule looked different from the first. For one, the skin was translucent. A side effect of the torture? The teeth had grown long and protruded from an elongated jaw. I also noted the pointed ears.

  I found another capsule at the end of the row that caught my attention. Instead of being broken, the lid had been opened. Upon closer inspection, I found it empty. Most of the gelatinous fluid had drained onto the floor. My shoes made syrupy sucking noises as I edged closer to the tube. Kull followed me without speaking.

  Upon closer scrutiny, I noticed that the two lid latches had been broken.

  Sounds of hissing came from behind us.


  My heart stopped.

  I slowly turned around. Kull pulled his sword free, its blade gleaming in the dim light. A gray creature huddled in the corner. Its eyes were matted over, and long, untrimmed fingernails grew from crooked fingers. Blood dripped from holes in its head where the wires must have been.

  It could have been elven once, judging by the narrow, pointed ears. It was small, perhaps only four feet tall. But what sort of creature was it? The pieces began to fall into place as I realized which species it most closely resembled.

  Goblin.

  I stumbled back.

  The thing clutched at its stomach, making a desperate moaning sound. Its leg bones were bowed. The creature looked incapable of walking. Thick, yellowish tears dripped from its eyes. It curled into a ball, revealing its back. The vertebrae and ribs protruded so badly they had burst through its skin.

  It gave a long sigh, and then it was still. I didn’t have to check its pulse to know it was dead.

  My back collided with the wall. I needed to leave. Kull followed as I exited the room and entered the hallway.

  “What was that?” I said while trying to catch my breath. “Was it a… a goblin?”

  “I believe so.”

  I steadied my breathing as I tried to come to terms with the enormity of the situation. “This is where the elves experimented on the potionmakers. They were trying to learn how to manipulate the goblins’ powers and use them for their own. But they failed. They never discovered the secret of how to use liquid elements in place of spoken spells.” I thought of the rows of skeletal remains we’d passed as we’d entered the fortress. “They must have killed hundreds—thousands, perhaps—trying to dissect the potionmakers’ DNA.”

  “Yes, I agree. Although I was unable to reveal the truth to you, the princess told me as much, but seeing it for myself is alarming. I always considered Wults the more violent species, but now I am not sure.”

  “Let’s go,” I said. “I’ve seen enough.”

  Kull nodded and then led me away from the room and back to the library, our footsteps echoing eerily through the empty halls. We entered the domed room once again, the sunlight flowing through slats in the ceiling, motes of dust gliding silently through the still air.

 

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