51. Matilda
“Fucking hell!”
Pain explodes through my side as I tumble down the stone stairs, each impact sending shockwaves through my body. I come to a stop at the bottom, gasping for air as agony pulses through my ribs.
I gasp for air, clutching my side as pain roars through my body. The guys land around me with various grunts and curses.
“Tilly!” Vex is at my side in an instant, his hands hovering over me. “What happened?”
“Ribs,” I manage to wheeze out. “Think I cracked one.”
Draven kneels beside me, his cool hands gently probing my side. I hiss in pain.
“Definitely cracked,” he confirms. “Hold still. I can heal you.”
He places his palm flat against my ribcage, and I feel a surge of icy energy flow into me. The pain eases almost instantly.
“Thanks,” I breathe, sitting up slowly. “Neat trick.”
“Basic magick when you grow up in Hell,” he mutters back.
“Oh,” I say, flatly sensing a bigger story there and changing the subject to the matter at hand. “Right, so that happened. And was totally different to last time.”
Luc helps me to my feet, his eyes scanning our surroundings warily. We’re in a narrow stone passageway, lit by flickering torches along the walls at scattered intervals.
“I want it on the record that I hate these chambers,” Vex mutters, running his hand along the rough stone. “Looks like they’ve made some renovations since our last visit.”
“Let’s not anger the chambers, hmm?” Draven’s voice is grim.
“Agreed.” A chill runs down my spine. Something about this place feels wrong, more so than before. The air is heavy and oppressive, as if the very stones are trying to crush us.
“We should keep moving,” I say, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. This wasn’t expected, and it has thrown me more than I’d like.
We move cautiously down the narrow passageway, our footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The flickering torchlight casts haunting shadows that seem to dance and twist around us. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched.
“Anyone else getting major creepy vibes?” I whisper, trying to lighten the mood.
“Understatement of the century,” Luc mutters.
After a few more seconds, we come to a fork in the passage. Both paths look identical. Dark, foreboding tunnels stretching into blackness.
“Great,” Vex mutters. “More tunnels.”
“Which way?” I ask, looking between the two options.
Draven closes his eyes, seeming to concentrate. After a moment, he points to the left. “This way. I can sense something. It feels like the energy we encountered before.”
“Has anyone ever noticed that it’s always left?” I murmur, but follow him anyway.
The passage gradually widens as we go. The air grows colder, raising goosebumps on my skin. I shiver, rubbing my arms.
Suddenly, Vex throws out an arm, stopping us. “Wait,” he hisses. “Look.”
I peer ahead, squinting in the gloom. The passage opens into a large circular chamber. In the centre stands a stone altar, covered in strange symbols that glow with a creepy green light.
Before we can approach it, a low growl echoes through the chamber. Shadow creatures materialise from the darkness but aren’t like the ones we faced before. These are larger, more solid, with gleaming eyes that fix on me with terrifying intensity.
“Here we go again,” Luc calls out.
“Run!” Vex shouts, his runes blazing blue as he throws up a barrier.
“To where?” Draven yells.
The shadows slam against it, their forms rippling and stretching. One breaks through, its claws raking the air where my head was a second ago. I roll and use every ounce of courage and determination I have to summon some kind of defensive magick to my hands.
Flames shoot out of my palms, shocking everyone, but it is short-lived, and they sputter weakly before they die.
“The chamber’s dampening our magick again!” Draven slams his palm against the wall, where ice crystals form and then immediately melt. “We need to move!”
We sprint back toward the passage, but more shadows pour from the walls, forcing us down a different tunnel. One that wasn’t even there before, I’m sure. The creatures chase us, their howls echoing off the stone. My lungs burn as we run deeper into the maze of passages.
“Where… the fuck… are… we… going?” I rasp.
“There!” Luc points to a narrow bridge spanning a chasm ahead.
We race across, loose stones crumbling beneath our feet. Halfway over, the bridge shudders violently. I look back to see shadow creatures tearing at the supporting stones.
“It’s collapsing!” I scream. “Move!”
We’re almost to the other side when the bridge gives way. I leap forward, fingers scraping the edge of solid ground. Vex grabs my wrist, hauling me up as the bridge crashes into the darkness below.
But our relief is temporary. The chamber we’ve entered is massive, its ceiling lost in darkness above. Ancient pillars rise into the gloom, covered in familiar symbols that pulse with that same sickly green light.
“These markings,” Draven runs his hand over a pillar. “They’re connected to whatever’s suppressing our magick.”
A thunderous crack splits the air. The floor beneath us trembles, and dark energy seeps up through fissures in the stone.
“The chamber’s destabilising,” Vex shouts over the growing rumble. “Whatever’s buried down here, it’s waking up!”
The energy coalesces into a writhing mass of shadows at the centre of the chamber. The sound is ancient and terrible, like reality being bent out of shape and torn apart.
The green light suddenly flares blindingly bright. I throw my hand up to cover my eyes. When my vision clears, I see a figure standing in the centre of the chamber. It is human in shape but draped in long, flowing robes, with a hood pulled up over its head. Its face is a black void of nothingness.
“Finally,” it says, its voice echoing with ancient power.
The figure’s form shifts and ripples, sometimes solid, sometimes smoke.
“Can you feel it, my conduit? The barriers between then and now, breaking down at last.”
“What are you?” I demand, my voice shaking.
The druidic figure raises its hands, and we all go on the defensive, but the creature pushes the hood back to reveal a face whose familiarity hits me right in the guts. The chamber explodes into chaos, tearing us apart and scattering us. A boom echoes around my head as it hits the cold stone ground, which shatters under the grinding and squealing of the earth breaking apart. As I fall through the crevice, the voice whispers all around me. “The Praxian thanks thee, little witch.”
Read on with Soul Bound, Book 2 Soul Bound (pre order for end of Feb 2025)