Had I not gotten lost on the wrong day, in the wrong place, and taken the wrong route home. The wrong tunnel inside the cave of mysteries—the same cave we’re planning to travel to now. Everything would have been different. I’d have completed my ritual and been a full member of the Shadow Court.
But I still take solace that, finally, I get to pass the gates.
I am ready to face my death. Part of me is eager for it.
At the very least, I am a hell of a lot more eager for death than I am to enter the cave of mysteries again. If there was any part of these trials I may fall apart and fail, it’s that. The orb tried to show me my worst fear, but it was hollow. It was nothing like what I’ve already faced.
And though I will very easily choose death rather than take that tunnel again, I’ll be close to it. So close to the real thing. Whether that creature is still there or not—I don’t know. But I will always assume he’ll be there waiting for me.
I take in a shaky breath. I have to stop focusing on that. Passing through the gate will be hard enough.
I pull in a long breath and then march through the shimmering magic of the Black Gate.
A RUSH OF MAGIC WASHES over me in an instant, and I no longer remember where or who I am. There is a surprising peace, a fluttering of hope and love.
The pressure, the weight, the burden—it’s gone. Why was I so burdened before this moment? I cannot remember. I cannot even fathom. But I do know that this feels good.
Death is freedom, a whisper floats through my mind, and I blink rapidly. This whisper is heavy, so much heavier than the sprites.
No, another whisper floats by. The right death, is freedom.
Follow the right death, Caelynn.
I pinch my eyebrows trying to piece it together.
What does that mean? The magic shimmers over me, swirling over my skin, filling every pore. Seeping into my very soul.
And then, in a moment, the magic recedes, and I fall to my knees as the pressure, the guilt, the pain, the rage—all of it—slams back onto me. I gasp, gripping the dirt tightly.
“Are you okay?” Rev says only feet behind me, but not daring to approach—he’d have to pass through the magic first.
“Yes,” I say, but the word is a struggle to pass through my lips. I’m okay—sort of. The gate was not the hard part—it’s facing reality after such relief. I pull in long shaky breaths and fight the urge to cry.
Facing death is the easy part.
Facing life—that’s the struggle.
Rev
Everything in my body screams for me to rush to Caelynn as she falls to the ground. I barely stop myself from crossing the threshold of dangerous magic in front of me.
What the hell? Why are my emotions so all over the place with her? Like every instinct is telling me...
I shake my head.
This is about me. I have to pass this magic and face the harsh reality it’s sure to bear onto me. Before I can over think it, I step into the glimmer of magic floating in the open space between the onyx stone arch, and my world falls away in an instant.
Black power rushes over me, strong as a hurricane, menacing and powerful. It pushes and pulls my body in several ways at once. I scream as my head is pulled to the west. My heart is pulled south and my body to the east. Agony pierces every thought as I’m pulled apart piece by piece in a gale of fear and magic.
If only I had known, a desperate whisper begins.
If only I had known. If only I had known. If only I had known, it continues, gaining speed, gaining urgency, gaining power. If only I had known. If only I had known. If only I had known.
I press my palms over my ears, and the whisper grows into a crescendo, into a roaring so painful I scream to block it out, and even that isn’t enough.
If only I had known. IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN. IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN. IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN.
Suddenly, a hand grips my lapel and rips me from the pain and back to solid ground. I hardly have time to register my surroundings before Caelynn screams, pushing my body down, and hers in front of mine as a flaming arrow pierces her chest.
Rev
Holy shit, is my only thought. I leap to my feet, steadying Caelynn as blood spurts from the wound in the middle of her torso. It didn’t hit her heart.
Though maybe I shouldn’t be relieved by that.
We both made it through the gates. Drake and Brielle are right behind us. Where is Ty? I only have an instant to search for him, but the dwarf has disappeared. Hopefully he fled before they came. Either way, that’s now my only choice.
With Caelynn injured, and Ty gone, I’m not sure I can defeat those two alone. We’re dead if we don’t use the advantage of having a massive and powerfully-magical obstacle between us.
I blast a circle of light around us, blinding our foes just long enough to grab Caelynn by the waist and fly off the path and into the brush. I carry her, ignoring her whimpering, and rush through the thorn bushes into a forest I don’t know the first thing about.
This way, a whisper tells me.
Dammit, I’ve had enough magical whispering for one day! But I know these whispers are friendly sprites—well, at least friendly to Caelynn—and not the same as the whispering that nearly undid me in the magic of the Black Gates.
This way, this way, this way.
I follow the tiny whispers through the brush until I find a small pathway and follow it south, the general direction Caelynn said the caves were. In less than five hundred feet, I see a stone drop off.
This way, this way.
I follow them more slowly, hopping off the overhang to a ledge, until I see an opening I assume is a cave. Perfect.
The moment we’re shaded by stone, I place Caelynn down. Surprisingly, she’s able to hold her own weight, but she presses her shoulders to the cave wall behind her, arching her back, face in a grimace of pain. “Shit.”
I press my hand to the wound just below her breast. She groans, and I have to stop my mind from spinning, desire mingling with the panic.
Everything in my body screams at me to save her. Help her. The sprites whisper in my ears, begging me to do the same.
My magic swirls in my chest, fingers tingling with the magic needed to heal her. It’s a strange thing to heal someone else. There’s an intimacy to forming your own magic beneath their skin and continuing to wield it. To use it to stitch their flesh back together.
I close my eyes as I work, the power flowing easily, but the touch of her soft skin beneath my fingers, the feel of her chest rising and falling in rapid succession, is a distraction.
I rip my hand from her body as it begins to burn, as my head grows light. I’ve used too much magic healing my enemy. Everything about this is messed up. I press my hand up against the stone wall to brace myself from the exhaustion.
Caelynn saved my life.
I saved hers.
Aren’t we supposed to be doing the opposite?
She slips to the ground slowly, head tilted back to watch me as I my fingers fumble in my bag. I grip a vial, then use my teeth to pop the cork. “Drink this,” I tell her.
She takes it in her shaking, blood-crusted hand and tosses it back in one big gulp while I fumble for another for myself. We’re both drained and exhausted. Healing, for both parties, is extremely taxing. Particularly for the untrained.
Not for the first time, I send a silent curse to my father for not letting me train in healing magic.
I squat beside Caelynn and examine her injury. I think I did a decent job sealing the core of her injury, all vital organs are intact and functioning, but the wound isn’t entirely closed.
“Let go,” I tell her softly. She watches me with her dark eyes, eyebrows pulled low. She pulls her fingers away without breaking eye contact.
I tug away some of the ripped and singed fabric, exposing soft skin below the wound that was ragged open just moments ago. It’s now almost entirely closed, but still bright red and inflamed and covered in blood. My forefinger brushes some of the blood away, sof
t and slow.
Caelynn groans. I freeze at the sound.
“Please, stop,” she says breathlessly. I pull my hand back quickly, suddenly realizing how close we are, our breaths mingling.
I swallow and stand, taking a step back. My heart beats so fast, and I get the feeling that’s not going to stop any time soon.
“Thank you,” she says with a weak voice.
I don’t respond.
“You probably should have just left me to die.”
I sit on a low stone, knees nearly touching my chest. “Maybe,” I say honestly. Though, in that moment, the thought did not even cross my mind. I had to save her, that’s all I knew. All I felt. “But you’re a pretty valuable ally right now. I wouldn’t have found the cave without your sprite friends.”
Her eyebrows pull down, and she looks around as if she just noticed where we are. “Tyadin?”
I shrug. “I didn’t see him once the arrow hit. I’m hoping he fled.”
She nods absently.
“Are we in the right caves?” I ask.
“I assume so. There’s only one cave system so far as I know, but there are many tunnels and a few entrances. I’m not particularly familiar with this one, but I doubt we’re far from where we need to be.”
I nod.
“Just do me a favor,” she says, her voice low, her breath picking up speed. “Don’t go down any paths alone. This place is...”
“Dangerous?” I grin because that’s obvious—everything here is dangerous—but the expression on her face gives me pause.
“You have no idea.”
The Caelynn I’ve known has been entirely indifferent, occasionally with a hint of sadness or anger or at best nostalgia. But I’ve yet to see even a hint of fear in her eyes.
Until now.
Caelynn
I don’t know where we are, and that is a terrifying thought.
The cold growing in my veins has me shivering, and I can’t tell if it’s from pain or fear. Maybe both. I don’t want to be here. That’s the clearest thought I can come up with right now.
I don’t want to be here.
He is down here somewhere. That thought has panic swirling around my head so thick I can’t think past it.
“Are you okay?” Rev asks.
“No,” I say desperately. It’s true. I’m not. My breath picks up speed, my vision going black.
“Is it pain? Blood loss?”
“No,” I say again. It’s all I can get out. I’m having a dammed panic attack. I stand suddenly, but my body is woozy, and I almost lose my balance. Rev’s hand is at my back, steadying me, and I have to fight the urge to fall into his arms, to cling to him like he could heal all my wounds—not just the physical ones.
“What’s wrong?’ he asks more firmly.
“I have to get out of here.” I take a step toward the cave exist, and he helps to guide me. I focus on stepping and breathing, my throat thick and barely able to push air through.
Finally, cool air and sunlight hits my face and breathing comes easier. My teeth are chattering.
“We should find another entrance, I don’t...” I shake my head. “I don’t like that one.”
“You’re afraid,” Rev says, it’s not a question but there is surprise there.
“We have to be careful....”
“Something bad happened to you here.”
I grip his sleeve in a tight fist and wince. I can’t tell him what happened. I can’t tell anyone. My chest heaves up and down, not enough air. I can’t get enough air.
“Okay, calm down,” he orders, gripping my upper arms tightly. “We’ll go wherever you want to go. I trust you.”
I swallow and focus on my breathing, calming myself.
I trust you.
I know those words aren’t true, but they still soothe the ache in my chest, so I hold on to them as tightly as I’ve held on to anything.
“This way,” I tell him and turn, taking slow but firm steps down a steep pathway toward the valley below. I vaguely recognize this. There is a large willow tree at the bottom of the valley that I know well. I use that as an anchor to reference my whereabouts. It’s been so long since I’ve been here, and even then they are not good memories—most of them at least. Finally, I find a slope that curls off to the right that I recognize. I walk faster. This is right.
“Do you think this is the right place?” Rev asks gently, not wanting to trigger another panic attack. “We only have a few hours until sundown.”
I chuckle. “What do you think happens if no one completes the challenge in time?”
The only other fae in the trials are certainly behind us. If we’re wrong, I highly suspect they will be too. We follow a path to a new cave, one I recognize. I still don’t like entering this place, but at least I know which tunnels to avoid and which should take us to the Wall of Mysteries. Where I assume the riddles will be.
“Look.” Rev points to a symbol on the side of the stone wall at the mouth of the cave. A flying bird in white paint. The symbol of the High Court.
“Guess that answers that question.”
We follow the main path through the cavern. I shiver at every deep shadow implying a branch-off tunnel.
“Remember.” My whisper echoes through the darkness as we duck below a stone overhang and press deeper into the cave system. “No matter what happens, do not go into one of the smaller tunnels. You’d be better off facing Drake and Brielle alone than facing what may lie beyond.”
Rev follows slowly, not speaking at all. The only sound our slow footsteps pounding and echoing off the walls.
The cave ceiling is suddenly hundreds of feet high, glowing stalactites hanging over us. “You won’t tell me what happened to you down here, will you?”
“Never,” I say firmly. “Never as long as I live.”
Rev
Caelynn is insanely frustrating. She has obvious trauma—although that shouldn’t be surprising. Somehow, it still bothers me. I’m too empathetic for my own good. I hate seeing someone in pain.
Even though, logically, I know she deserves it. I know I’m supposed to want her pain. I’m supposed to revel in. Drink it up.
But I can’t enjoy it.
Another part of me is insanely curious. What the hell is down here that has her so afraid? She showed no fear during the orb challenge. Dragons, goblins attacking while she was tied down, she rode a Shadow-vyrn for goodness sake. She’s fearless.
But this place is causing her to shake in her boots. And that thought alone has my eyes darting over my shoulder constantly, has me jumping at every shadow, and wincing every time she jumps—which is a lot. As a member of the Luminescent Court this place is my antithesis—I should feel uncomfortable here.
And she should be in her element, but instead, she’s petrified.
“Welcome,” a voice booms.
Caelynn jerks so hard she nearly trips over a stone, and I find my hands at her hips steadying her. My fingers graze the skin of her stomach, where the cloth has ripped away, and I swallow. Her breathing evens.
“Champions, I am the Sphynx.” I can’t see any form before us, only stones and darkness. “Approach and answer your riddle.”
Caelynn’s breath is shaky, but she steps forward, out of my arms.
I follow behind her.
“Caelynn of the Shadow Court. You are first to find me.”
She doesn’t respond.
“Your riddle will appear only once, and only you may answer.”
“Is there a time limit?” Caelynn asks, her voice surprisingly strong.
“Only the limit set by the trials—sun down.” There are still several hours before then. “You must also answer before leaving the cave system. Otherwise, you may take as much time as you like.”
“Okay, I am ready.”
Against the massive flat wall in front of us, black writing appears among the stone.
Battle is my purpose, but I have no ability to fight
I am bitten again and agai
n, enduring pain for the betterment of another
Ever diligent, I await the next attack
I may cover a wound, but it cannot heal until it sheds my protection
Caelynn reads the words aloud three times. An echoing reverberates behind me, and I jerk my head around. The sound disappears.
“Can you remember it? I’d like to get mine before someone else comes.”
Caelynn nods, casting her eyes over the riddle one more time, then she steps back and allows me to approach the wall.
“Reveln of the Luminescent Court. You are the second to approach.”
“Yes, please hurry, I know the rules.”
“Very well.” The Sphynx’s voice purrs, and new words appear against the stone wall.
Every living soul searches for me
Every living soul fears me in the hands of another
Darkness hides, but I reveal
I strike without warning, and no shield can stop me
I will rip apart hearts and souls, or repair incurable wounds
I read the words slowly, carefully. At first it sounds like a weapon, which would also fit Caelynn’s riddle—whose answer I suspect is “shield” or perhaps “armor.”
It’s fitting for her—she shields her true self so thoroughly, her wounds clearly not healing. But mine I am less certain of. What weapon reveals and cures wounds? Definitely something that can be used as a weapon in the wrong hands.
I take a step back from the wall, and the words fade away just in time to hear very clear footsteps resounding behind me. I jump out of the center of the open cavern and press Caelynn against the wall, hands at her lips.
She sucks in a breath, but I’m distracted by the swirling dark smoke at our feet. I hear only silence, but Caelynn nods as if she got some kind of message. She shifts to the right, closer to the flat wall of riddles—bad idea. But I follow anyway, trusting.
“Do you think they’re here?” Brielle’s whisper echoes through the cavern as if she were only feet from us, and I wince, reminding myself not to make any noise because it carries in this place.
Trial of Thorns (Wicked Fae Book 1) Page 20
