Carved in Stone_Protectors of Magic_Book 2

by Jenna Wolfhart

  Marcus lowered my feet to the floor and pressed his lips against my ear. “Follow me. And stay as quiet as you can.”

  I gave a nod, swallowing hard. Follow him? Follow him where?

  I soon found out. As distant footsteps pounded on the carpet, Marcus stepped through the shelf we faced. One moment he stood by my side. The next he was somewhere beyond the wall. My brain could barely grasp what I’d just seen, but I didn’t have time to stand here and wonder at it. Instead, I took a deep breath and followed.

  The world rippled around me and energy jolted through my veins. Shadows full of swirling reds pulled in tight, squeezing every bone in my body. And then they were gone, replaced by the sweet relief of cool fresh air. We stood in a dark stone tunnel, fire-lit torches lining both walls.

  “Can we speak?” I mouthed, gesturing at the solid stone wall behind us. I didn’t know how this magic worked, where we were, and if sound could travel from here to there. And I wasn’t about to take that chance.

  Marcus nodded. “We’re safe now.”

  “What if they go digging around in that closet...or whatever it was?”

  “They’re unlikely to find the gateway, but we should keep moving just in case,” he said, taking my hand in his and pulling me down the tunnel. “There’s a place up ahead where we can compare notes and decide on next steps.”

  Compare notes. Next steps. My heart hurt. And so did my head. I was tired and weary. It had been over twenty-four hours since I’d had any sleep, and I didn’t see how I’d rest anytime soon. The fae would quickly discover I was no longer in my room, and they’d do everything in their power to find me. We might be safe in these tunnels—for now—but I wasn’t naive enough to think it would last for very long.

  After several long and tense moments of hushed walking, Marcus suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. Everything around us still looked the same. Rows of fire-lit torches. Two identical stone walls. A curved ceiling low enough that Marcus was forced to hunch his back. Darkness behind us and darkness before. And dust. It clung to every surface like a thick film.

  “This way,” he murmured as he turned left and whispered through the wall once again. And, just as before, I followed him quickly, sucking in a breath when the swirling red magic squeezed tight before allowing me to pass through.

  This time, we entered a large room fit for a king with high ceilings and smooth wood floors. There were no windows, I noted, but there were four skylights that gave a perfect view of the starry night sky. Crimson red was everywhere. On the rug, on the canopy bed, and on the three sofas angled toward a fireplace. The far wall had built-in shelves full of leather-bound books and parchment scrolls.

  “Where the hell are we?” I whispered as I padded across the floor to sink onto the largest sofa. I sighed as the soft cushion enveloped my tired body. Here, the dread that knotted my shoulders finally eased enough for me to relax, even though I knew I couldn’t sit still for long.

  “This is Magister Thorne’s quarters,” Marcus said quietly. “It is well-warded. The fae would not have been able to get through the door, regardless of their powerful magic. The only way inside is through those tunnels.”

  For a moment, neither of us spoke. I had so many questions and so much to tell him. I wasn’t entirely sure where to start.

  “What happened to that blood witch?” I finally asked. “The one who...”

  Marcus closed his eyes. “The fae slit her neck before I could stop him. They are very fast when the bloodlust fills their veins.”

  I blinked up at him. He had transformed. No longer did I see the smug, mocking shifter I’d met all those weeks ago, when I’d been desperate, lonely, and full of frustration. This man held a weight on his shoulders, one that melted that dimpled smile into the grimmest of frowns.

  “Thank you for coming for me,” I said, feeling my face flush for reasons I didn’t understand. “I don’t know what would have happened to me if you hadn’t.”

  “They would have tortured you,” he said. “And they would have kept going and going and going. Nothing they can do would kill you. They would have delighted in that.”

  The realization crashed over me. It was a fact I hadn’t even considered until now, but Marcus was right. They might be able to snap my finger, cut it off, and devour it in one bite. But it would not have killed me. Which meant...I could have spent decades in constant pain and fear.

  “I met King Oberon,” I said. “The ruler of the Unseelie Court. He said they’ve killed all the blood mages.”

  “Not all of them,” Marcus said. “Some will have used those tunnels to get to safety, though I don’t know how many or if they’re badly wounded. If they’re hiding, it means there isn’t enough of them to fight the fae.”

  “Through the tunnels,” I said. “Can we get out that way, too?”

  He strode across the room and sunk onto the sofa by my side, tucking his wings into his back. “The tunnels don’t lead out of the castle. They only go to various safe rooms within it. That’s why Lucille showed up in the Crimson Hall. They haven’t gone far. They’re still here and hiding.”

  “So, the fae could still find them,” I said, shifting to face him.

  His violet eyes rippled with pain. “They can and likely will.” He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. “This is my fault. I left the castle unguarded. The Magister thought I would return, and I never did. If I’d been at my post, then the fae might not have caught them off guard. I would have seen them coming.”

  My heart jerked in my chest, because I was the reason Marcus had left his post behind. “You can’t blame yourself, Marcus. You were only doing what you thought was right, and the fae would have attacked regardless of whether or not you were here and...” I choked at the next thought that entered my head. “And, being on the frontlines, you would have likely died.”

  “I don’t regret coming with you, Rowena. I don’t want you to think that.” He gave me a sad smile, one that did not dimple his cheeks. “But I should have sent someone here in my place to take up my guardian duties.”

  Who? I almost asked. But I stopped myself. Because I didn’t want to dig the knife in any deeper. Truth was, there was no one else to send. Jasper and Eli wouldn’t have gone. Neither would have Silas. And the rest of the gargoyle guardians were permanent stone.

  Except for Sebastian. And he didn’t count.

  “I’m so sorry, Marcus,” I said. “I never would have asked for your help if I’d known this would happen. But I suppose that doesn’t help, does it?” I sighed. I was terrible at this. Friendship, connections, saying the right thing. I’d never been taught. I’d never had a mother to learn from. My only parental figure had been a distant Queen who was more likely to sniff in my direction than wrap me in a hug and whisper words of comfort into my ear.

  Marcus took my hand in his and pressed it to his heart. My fingers splayed against his chest, and the world seemed to still around me. His chest was ridged and corded with pure muscle, and the warmth of him seeped into my bones. My stomach clenched as I breathed in through my nostrils, and the scent of him was almost intoxicating. He was stone and mist and frost, and it filled my head so much that my eyes began to water.

  His lips quirked, and he leaned closer, so close that I could pick out every silver fleck in his eyes. “Do not be sorry. It’s not your fault the murderous fae set their sights on the Blood Coven.”

  “It’s not your fault either,” I breathed back.

  The air stilled between us. My fingers still pressed against his chest, and his hand still curled around mine. I felt as though every part of me had rushed into those five fingers. I didn’t dare move for fear I’d tumble out of my own body from the contact.

  “As much as I would love to stay locked up in this room with you,” he murmured, the darkness in his eyes replaced with something much more dangerous, “I need to get you out of this place before the fae decide to burn it to the ground.”

  I swallowed hard. “Is that something they would
do?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past them, love.”

  “Do you really think you can get us out of here?” I asked.

  He pursed his lips and nodded. “It will be risky, and I’ll likely need to fight a few more fae, which could end badly.”

  “Then, we need to do one last thing before we make our escape.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Something tells me I’m not going to like what you’re about to say.”

  “We need to get my sword.”

  Chapter 17

  Now that we were being proactive, Marcus had returned to his usual self. As he rifled through Magister Thorne’s closet in a hunt for potential weapons, he glanced over where I was bent at the waist, thumbing through the contents of an old cedar trunk.

  He let out a low whistle and smiled a crooked smile. “I must say, you look ravishing in that dress. Particularly ravishing, that is.”

  I shot him a glare, but I couldn’t ignore the thrill that went through my gut.

  He’d come for me. He’d fought for me.

  The shifter who often acted as though life was a game had risked his neck to break me free from the fae. He’d rescued me from captivity once before. And now he’d done it again.

  But I couldn’t let him think I’d softened. “Don’t look so delighted. I didn’t wear it for you.”

  “Hmm,” he merely said before he pulled a long and slender sword from the depths of the Magister’s closet. “Well, would you look at this?”

  The blade gleamed under the moonlight streaming in through the skylights. “Can that kill fae?”

  “Not in the least,” he said as he tossed the weapon onto the bed. “But it can wound them.”

  “Is the only way to kill them to…” I tapped my neck, hoping he’d understand my meaning.

  He did. With a dark laugh, he shook his head before ducking back into the closet. “No, there are other ways. Iron, for one. The Queen really didn’t do a great job with your education, did she?”

  “Not really. Everything I learned I basically taught myself,” I admitted, fingering a silky robe. I pulled it over my shoulders and cinched the cords around my neck, enjoying the warmth of the heavy material.

  “Here.” Marcus appeared with a smaller knife that was wrapped in a leather sheath. I caught it mid-air and tucked it underneath the cloak. Out of sight, just in case we came face-to-face with some fae.

  Marcus crossed the room to my side. “You ready?”

  No.

  “Yes,” I said with a nod.

  “Good.” He tweaked my cheek with his thumb. “You’re brave, Rowena. And strong. But I need you to stay behind me and listen to what I say. The fae are strong and deadly, and they might very well decide that they’re better off with you dead.”

  * * *

  Marcus’s words had put a chill in my bones, but I followed him back through the hidden gateway that led into the tunnels underneath the Blood Coven’s castle. Even though he wore a coat, his back rippled, as if he anticipated shifting his wings at any moment.

  We headed further away from Crimson Hall, coming to another gateway that led into what appeared to be a library. It was dark, still, and silent within the room, the vaulted ceilings echoing with our small movements. Shelves upon shelves of books surrounded us on all sides, and my fingers itched to read the words. So much knowledge. So much information. All within my grasp.

  Eli would love it here, I thought. My heart squeezed tight. Would I ever get to see him again? Or Jasper? Or Silas?

  Marcus motioned for me to follow him toward the door, and soon we were out in another hallway, one that was brightly-lit from gleaming antique lamps.

  Where are we? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t dare voice the words aloud. If any fae were inside the building, they would likely hear me speak.

  We came to a room and ducked inside. This one was ornamentally decorated with fine carpets and a billowing canopy bed. Marcus eased the door shut and pointed at the floor. Frowning, I shook my head. I had no idea what he wanted me to do.

  He pointed at the floor again, this time with a motion much more hurried than before.

  An instant later, I heard the floorboards creak in the hallway outside.

  I froze, eyes widening. He must have heard the fae coming far before I did, and now we were standing here in the middle of a room just waiting to be found.

  Marcus clenched his jaw and shoved his finger toward the floor.

  Not the floor, I realized. At the space underneath the bed.

  He couldn’t be serious. But he merely continued pointing at the bed until he let out a hiss and slid underneath it himself, peeking up at me expectantly with those deep violet eyes.

  Well, I wasn’t just going to stay out here by myself, now was I?

  With my heart roaring in my ears, I knelt to the floor and scrabbled under the bed, my body sliding up against Marcus. He went rigid, placing a finger to his lips. Our gazes locked as the door creaked open. A pair of muddy boots appeared in the darkened doorway, and a long sniff sent shivers down my spine.

  Marcus’s eyes went dark, and his finger moved from his lips to my neck. He opened his mouth, a word hanging on his breath. I knew we were seconds from getting caught. Any fae would be able to smell us—our bodies, our blood, our fear. But somehow, a strange sense of calm settled over me, as if this moment right here and right now mattered much more than the moment to come.

  A heavy sigh echoed through the room, and the boots thudded against the floor. A moment later, a face appeared. One that was very much fae. Yellow eyes, long white hair that hung like a silky curtain around an illuminated face, and a pair of blood-red lips. But instead of pulling a sword from her waist, she shook her head and rolled her eyes.

  “This is a terrible hiding place.”

  “What?” I blinked.

  “Why are you even in this hall anyway? Rumor has it you escaped. They couldn’t figure out where you’d gone, but I was certain you’d be smart enough to take to the hills. And yet here you are.”

  I stayed rooted to my spot under the bed, but Marcus eased to his feet. “If you must take me prisoner, then have at it, but leave Rowena be. I know your king wants to keep her here out of harm’s way, but she’s just as safe in the City of Wings, if not more so.”

  She snorted. “You gargoyles are strong, but you’re not stronger than fae. We can better protect her. That said, I agree that she’s not safe here. There are some in the Unseelie Court who yearn for her blood. They don’t care about the veil between realms, and they would snap her pretty little neck if they had the chance.”

  I swallowed hard, pressing my hands against the floor to scoot out from my hiding place. “So…you’re not going to call the guards?”

  “No.” She shook her head, and the long blond strands whipped around her, fluttering like wings. “I’m going to help you.”

  Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. “How do we know we can trust you? You’re fae.”

  “Where there is darkness, there is light. And where there is light, there is darkness,” she said. When we didn’t respond, she continued. “I won’t lie. Many of the Unseelies are vicious and cruel. But not all of us are. Just as not all Seelies are benevolent.”

  I understood. It was just the same with the shadow witches. Book upon book spoke of their dark and dangerous powers, losing their souls to the shadows within them. And while some were cruel—exceedingly cruel at times—some could be kind.

  Tess was kind.

  But Marcus didn’t look convinced. “Excuse me if I don’t completely believe you.”

  “Nor would I if I were in your shoes.” She flashed a smile, her teeth just as sharp and jagged as the other fae I’d met so far. “You’re welcome to stay here and hide underneath the bed. When the guards do a sweep, they will find you. Or you can come with me. I can get you as far as the back gates, but no further.”

  “We’ll go with you,” I said before Marcus could answer. “But we need to get my sword first. Where is it
?”

  Her smile faltered when the look on my face didn’t change. “You cannot be serious.”

  “I’ve never been more serious in my life,” I said in a steady voice that was much lower and deeper than it usually was. “It’s the only way to unlock my powers. And without my powers, I’ll never defeat my enemies. You want magic to be safe? You want your veil to remain open? Give me my fucking sword.”

  Marcus grinned, and his violet eyes gleamed with something resembling pride.

  She let out a quick exhale through her nose and pressed her lips into a thin line. “Fine. If you insist on this stupidity, then you’ll need my protection if something goes wrong.” Rolling her eyes, she laughed. “Silly me. I didn’t mean if. I meant when.”

  * * *

  “There are only about a dozen of us here,” she said as she led us down the quiet hallway. “After we attacked the coven, most of the fae returned to our realm. As much as we enjoy what the mortal realm has to offer, we yearn for our own world like mortals yearn for fresh air. Oberon decided to stay so he could entrap you, but I know he struggles here just as much as the rest of us do.”

  “So, then why didn’t he want to take me back into your realm?” I asked.

  We weren’t bothering to speak quietly now. The fae’s name was Rhiannon, we discovered, and she assured us that every fae in the castle was now inside Crimson Hall, which was halfway across the grounds.

  “Really? You don’t know?” She arched an eyebrow. “If we removed you from this realm, magic would cease to exist here. And the veil would close.”

  “Right,” I said with a nod. “And you helped attack the Blood Coven.”

  She sighed. “Yes, I did.”

  “So, why the hell are you helping us?”

  “I didn’t agree with the attack, and I don’t agree with this.” She shrugged and paused before a thick oak door. “Unfortunately, as an Unseelie, it’s very difficult to say no to King Oberon. And I don’t mean that he’s persuasive. He’s…compelling.”