Found in Night (The Dragori Series Book 2)

by Ben Alderson

  Disappointment rang threw me.

  How is it where you are? I hope you and Illera are getting along.

  We are. We just had a rest but will be going off soon. The map suggests we are close. I hope it is right.

  Talking about rest, I need to go and take over from Gallion. He has not slept yet. Stay safe and get back as soon as you can. I worry about Hadrian’s soul the longer it is lost.

  I will try. Please promise me you will do everything you can possibly think of to help Hadrian. If there is even a chance he—

  Zac, we are taking care of it. Don’t let your mind be clouded. Find the Staff and get back to us. Promise me?

  Promise.

  I felt Nyah’s cold presence vanish. I sagged back to the floor, my back screaming from the discomfort. All I could think about was Hadrian. Even if I found the Staff, how would we use it to help him? I knew my worry would only conceal the desire to find the Keep.

  “Illera…” I called over to her.

  She shot up. “I’m awake.” She wiped something from the corner of her mouth and straightened the piece of hair that was stuck at an angle. “I’m awake!”

  “We should get going,” I told her but kept the conversation with Nyah to myself. Out of sight, out of mind. I needed to focus fully on the Keep.

  Packing camp did not take long. The fire had gone out whilst we slept, so we left. Illera covered the cold wood with a spare cloak from her pack in case we needed to stop here on the way back. This helped lighten the load for the next flight.

  When we stepped out of the cave, I realized just how much time we had lost to sleep. What felt like minutes must have been hours, for dusk was upon us. Silently panicking from the loss of time, I shifted and picked Illera up.

  I didn’t know if it was the sleep that helped my energy or the missing hours, but I reveled in the speed I kept up as I reached new heights and flew ahead. I used new levels of magick to keep the snow from blurring the directions ahead, and to keep the cold away. It worked; enough.

  IT WAS ILLERA who spotted the Keep first.

  I was too busy focusing on keeping us from freezing that I only saw the pointed black towers ahead. They blended into the mountain side, but the closer we got, the clearer it became. It was just like the vision the Goddess showed me. Black points like swords cutting into the snow-coated mountains.

  Illera pointed vigorously, her mouth moving, but the winds snatching any possibility of me hearing her.

  My response was in the change of my flight.

  A heavy storm of snow had settled upon us during the flight, which made navigating close to impossible. But a strange tugging in my gut brewed moments before Illera saw the Keep.

  Nestled in the mountain face, the Keep was a creature of obsidian towers and sharp points. How this place was ever made this far from paths and so high from the ground was beyond me. The Druid’s power was greater than I could imagine.

  The Keep was an elegant yet intimidating building. Its sheer size was unprecedented, especially when I landed on the stone walkway beyond its main gates. My feet hit the crumbled stone ground just beyond a sheer drop. Looking down, it seemed that something used to be here. Maybe a bridge, but now, it was split stone covered in snow.

  Illera was quiet, her eyes wide and breathing slow.

  We both took in the vision before us.

  Ahead of us, the midnight gates towered high above, closed. A littering of snow covered the ground before the Keep and the tall spires around us. As the rush of nightly wind burst around, it carried flurries of snow from the ground, twisting into a small cyclone before stilling.

  “I cannot believe it…” Illera mumbled, taking a step forward. “This is the right place?”

  “It is.” The same black towers. The very same gates. We had made it.

  “It looks empty and forgotten, but it feels alive,” Illera said, moving towards it.

  A strange emotion vibrated from the walls around us, yet there was no sign of fire light or life. Illera walked for the gates, leaving me to catch up. When she reached them, she pushed, but they did not budge.

  “It’s locked.” Illera punched the door in annoyance. “All this way and we can’t even get in.”

  “Is there not a key hole?” I asked, moving close.

  I couldn’t see anything that would suggest it was locked. The only mark on their surface was the two brass door rings covered in rust and dust.

  Illera stepped backwards. “Not that I can see.” She was shouting now over the scream of wind. “You try.”

  Back in my elven form, I took Illera’s place and leaned into the cold metal door. Pushing it, there was no sign of movement. After years of being closed, they seemed to have been sealed from the world.

  “I didn’t see this coming,” Illera said, kicking a pile of snow on the ground. “How hard is it to open a door?”

  “Maybe this is part of the curse that was placed on the Keep? The one Cristilia told us about.”

  Illera shrugged her shoulders. “Last time I checked, you had wings, horns and freckled scales. But I don’t see the door opening for you. She did say only a Dragori could open it, but clearly she lied.”

  The answer smashed into me.

  “Illera, you are incredible!” I clapped, placing my hands on the door again and letting my Dragori form come through. My hands morphed before my eyes, stretching into claws and knuckles dusted in scales.

  The moment my wings burst through skin and the wind brushed against my curled horn, the doors released a large creak and opened. A burst of wind exploded from the slip in the door and cascaded over us both.

  “What is the smell?” Illera complained behind me, covering her face as the air washed over her.

  It was stale. It gripped the back of my throat and made me gag. I let go of the door, giving it a final push, and it slammed against a wall inside. The sound vibrated like the deep beat of a drum.

  “Shall we go and find out?” I replied, holding my hand to my nose.

  “We should stay close. Who knows what has been locked in here this whole time?”

  “Illera, the only thing that will harm us is the cold, so let’s go in before it claims us.”

  We passed into the waiting space, Illera close behind. My bravery was an act. Inside, I was aching to turn and run. It was Illera’s presence that kept my feet moving forward. The further we walked in, the lesser the light from outside became. Soon we stood in pitch darkness. I felt disorientated, lost in the Keep like a youngling in an unknown world.

  “I can’t see my own hand before my face,” Illera whispered, but the Keep caused her voice to echo louder and louder. “I left the flint back in the cave…”

  “We have been in the dark since we found out about the Staff, what difference does this make?” I replied, trying to keep our moral high with some light sarcasm.

  “Lead the way then.” Illera’s hand slipped into mine and we kept moving blindly through the dark.

  I kept my spare hand out before me, trailing it against walls and trying to use my sense of touch to guide us. I found closing my eyes helped me concentrate on directing us through touch. Although it was already dark, there was something in the act of giving up that sense that helped us forward.

  I only stopped when the smooth stone that grazed beneath out finger tips changed to rough wood. A door.

  “Stay close,” I muttered as I pushed this new door open. With it, we welcomed the faint night light that illuminated the room beyond. I didn’t want to speak, not when our words echoed across the tall walls and increased in volume.

  The room beyond had no ceiling, which allowed the view of night to be seen from above. In the faint moonlight, we dropped our hands and moved around the large space, getting used to the oval design.

  “This place is too big to stumble around together.” Illera’s voice carried from the opposite side of the baron room. “We should split up, cover more ground.”

  Illera was right. Already, we had lost time navigat
ing the dark just to find this room.

  “Wait,” I said. “We should wait out for morning and hope the sun reaches into every dark corner of this place. Then we split up.”

  “Even you don’t want to do that, and we need to find it. Zacriah, we are close.”

  “Fine,” I replied. “Just be careful, okay? I have a feeling Emaline would not want to hear that anything happened to you...”

  Illera didn’t hide the smile at Emaline’s mention. “I appreciate your warnings, but I will be fine.” She flashed the sword as she pulled it from the scabbard. “If you find anything, shout.”

  “Is now a bad time to announce that I have a fear of dark places?” I added as she almost left. My hands shook at my sides.

  “The dark can’t hurt you, Zacriah,” she said with a smile, slipping from the room.

  “It’s what is hiding in the dark that can…” Illera was no longer near to hear my reply.

  *

  TIME SLIPPED AWAY with each footfall in the waiting dark before me. My eyes had adjusted slightly to the dark, which helped make out some shapes as I lost myself in the Keep. I walked through the maze of corridors, tripped up stairs and walked into furnishings. My nose was full of dust, and my body was numb from the cold that rushed from the many glassless windows.

  I could only imagine how warm this Keep would’ve been when it was full of life and flame. How the many Druids would not feel the cold of the surrounding mountains as they were busy plotting against the elves.

  Just thinking about those evil beings and the unearthly powers they once possessed sent a shiver crawling up my spine. I pulled my fur-lined cloak closer and pushed on.

  It was the sixth room I ventured into that gave me hope.

  As I pushed the oaken door wide, the room burst into light, stealing a gasp from my lungs. In utter surprise, I stumbled in, taking in the rush of light that sprang on each hanging bowl of flame. Magick. I knew it. I could feel it in the air that whispered around me. I was close; It told me so.

  I closed the door behind me, wondering if I should call for Illera. But I didn’t. I wanted to be sure this was it.

  Unlike most of the oval rooms I had entered, this was created in the shape of a horse shoe. It’s dark, towering walls raised far up. So much so I couldn’t see the ceiling in the shadows of the walls. Curved stone arches opened on one side of the room. The view was of rolling mountains and night; it made me dizzy on my feet.

  On the other side was a stone podium of some kind, tall enough to be the same size as I. As I got closer to it, I could see the marble’s textured white veins running through black stone. The same slab of marble the Goddess showed me.

  It was cold to the touch. I half expected an opening to be on the side I couldn’t see. But as I walked around it, there was nothing. It was just a large slab of stone. I knocked on it thrice. It was hollow.

  I knew in my heart and mind the Staff was resting inside its prison of marble. I could feel its hum singing to me. Taunting me.

  Trying to move the marble slab was impossible. I lifted, pushed, kicked, but nothing happened. It didn’t budge an inch.

  “Illera…” My shout got louder and louder as it echoed up the walls. “Illera!”

  I would need her mind and muscle to help work out this puzzle.

  Silently, I waited for her response. I even tried to quiet my breathing to really listen out if she heard me. I was about to shout again when I heard footsteps. Good. The Staff was so close.

  “I think I have found it,” I said, sparing a glance behind me as Illera walked in.

  As she stepped into the light, I saw her stark white face and the shine of firelight against a blade pressed to her neck.

  Fear collided with my blood. I brought my arms up, calling for my air as the face of her attacker came into the light.

  “Cristilia?” I gasped.

  Her laugh was deep and earthy. Her smile pointed and eyes piercing green. She looked like Cristilia but was slightly shorter than I remembered. She lacked Cristilia’s poise.

  “Zacriah, don’t—” Illera was cut off by the blade that pressed farther into her throat.

  Not wasting a moment longer, I punched a fist towards Cristilia. The roar of my air as it shot forwards deafened the room. Cristilia raised her spare hand high and the stone ground raised to meet it. My wind slammed into the stone barrier.

  The floor shook. I stumbled into the marble slab, hitting it so hard I saw stars. The entire room groaned as it moved, dust and rubble exploding into the air. Than a voice caused my blood to turn to ice.

  “I do love a reunion.” The Druid moved into the room and stood beside Cristilia and Illera. Red blood ran down Illera’s neck and stained her cloak. “I would have preferred all three of you to have been here as planned, but I’ll settle for one.”

  His milky skin was covered in sigils and marks, highlighting his hollow cheeks and narrow face. His round ears were stained with ink, his eyes seeping shadows of black. Seeing the Druid in this true form horrified my senses.

  I pushed myself from the floor, reaching for the hilt of my sword.

  “Cristilia, why?” I shouted, preparing for another volley of wind to send her way. I wanted answers first.

  Everyone distrusted her but me.

  The Druid raised a hand before she could answer. “I too have asked Cristilia why. Why fail me? In truth, I blame her skittishness for ruining my plan. It was simple, tell them about the Staff, have them walk into my web together like the worthless creatures they are. And I can have all three. Killing three birds with one stone.”

  I looked to Illera, whose eyes were pinned wide, then to Cristilia, who didn’t flinch as the Druid insulted her.

  “How rude of me. Let me introduce you to your sister of sorts.” The Druid wrapped a short arm around Cristilia. “And between you and me, don’t call her by that name again. She doesn’t like her blood sister very much, isn’t that right?”

  The girl nodded. The girl who was not Cristilia.

  “I will kill you for what you have done.” My voice deepened, the tone even surprising me. I let the shift happen right before the Druid’s eyes. Let him see what will tear him apart.

  “I am sure you want to, but then how will you ever help your Prince retrieve his soul?”

  His words stopped me from pouncing.

  “I have the Staff. I do not need you,” I growled.

  “You are empty handed, dear boy.” He raised a marked hand towards the slab of marble. “Threaten my life again…” The Druid’s hand disappeared into the folds of his black cloak and soon pulled out an orb of glass. Within it, blue fire danced and spun. “And I might just drop this. Then your Prince’s soul will be lost forever.”

  “You wouldn’t dare. You need the Dragori.”

  “Calling my bluff. I must admit you have grown in confidence since our last encounter.” He put the orb back into his cloak; “I am impressed. Very impressed.”

  “Marthil, release the deserter and go and introduce yourself.”

  The girl, Marthil, pushed Illera to the ground without more than a second glance. Illera scrambled across the floor, away from her, as Marthil walked over to me. With each footstep, the ground shook. The halo of dark curls that crowned her head caused her green eyes to stand out. Her ears held two points each. She was Morthi, just like Cristilia.

  “Stay back,” I threatened, opening my wings wide in warning. Another step and I would end her.

  Marthil just smiled, displaying her yellow stained teeth. A muddy smell pouring from her mouth. She raised a hand across the space between us and I noticed the heaps of dirt embedded beneath her nails.

  “Master has told me many stories about you.” She even sounded like Cristilia. “I don’t like stories very much.”

  Her hand hung in the air. I refused to take it.

  She dropped it and turned back to the Druid, slamming one foot on the ground in protest. “He shows me no respect. You told me they would!”

  He rais
ed his hands and tilted his head to the side, “Now, now, Marthil. They will learn to love you. You will see.”

  This interaction between them both was strange. Like a father to his daughter, calming her amidst a tantrum. But Marthil was no younger than I. Her weathered face aged her, but her dark skin still glowed with youth.

  “If not, you uphold your promise and let me grind them. That is what you said!”

  “No, no grinding, my girl.” He walked over to her and ran a hand down her cheek. She gave into it like a cat. “We need him… for now.”

  She opened her piercing eyes slowly and smiled my way.

  The Druid looked over Marthil’s hulking shoulder to me. He looked at me like he owned me, a possessive glare that cut deep into me.

  I held my ground, risking a glance at Illera, who was moving for the door. She was trying to escape.

  “What do you want?” I kept my voice as calm as I could against the anger. Anything to help Illera escape.

  “What I have wanted from the start. Respect. Revenge. Call me greedy, for my list goes on. Now, shall we retrieve the Staff, so I can get into my new home?” The Druid clapped his hands. “It takes more than one Dragori to break the curse of those vile elves put on my parents’ home. If Hadrian and Emaline would have made it here with you, it would have been much easier to retrieve it, but we have Marthil, so it should work.”

  I looked to the girl again. Marthil, the final Dragori. Cristilia’s sister. All this time, Cristilia had been getting us here because she knew. She knew what was at stake.

  A knowing smile passed on his lips. “Marthil. Remember what I told you to do?”

  “How could I not? You drone on about it enough.” She held no fear of the Druid.

  “Good girl.” Her response thrilled him.

  “I will not help you,” I said.

  “Oh, you will.” The Druid laughed. He turned to Illera, who was close to leaving the room, and raised his hands. Black smoke seeped from his palm and encased Illera. It lifted her from the ground. She floated over to him, squirming and turning within his dark cocoon. “I have wondered how long it would take for someone to die through strangulation. Let us see if this gives you the motivation you need.”