Chapter 33
Silas’s mouth drops open, and he stares blankly at the jewel.
“This entire time, Fen has had the stone,” I finally speak.
Silas stutters, “I…I had no idea.”
“I never realized it, either. I’m also not sure what it does exactly, but I’m going to find out. Tonight.”
Silas rubs his face, stopping at his temples to apply pressure. His eyes close, and I allow him a moment to process this information. He leans to the side, propping his shoulder against the stone wall once more.
“I gave Larkin the book to return to the house. He was going to tell Oak to start translating the text on the Rigil.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you think this is a good idea? You are making it harder and harder for me to let you do this alone,” he mutters.
“Nope,” I respond.
Surprise dances on Silas’s expression for a moment before he tilts his head back and laughs.
“Well, alright then,” he says. “Just really driving a knife in my heart, aren’t you?”
“I think this is a horrible idea, but what other choice do we have?” I respond and hug him.
“I don’t think we have many choices here,” he responds.
“We don’t have long before the ship arrives. We will do this, then focus on what’s ahead. I know the others have been preparing for days. We will be ready as well.”
I stand on my tiptoes to nuzzle my face into his neck. We stay this way momentarily before I pull away, cupping his face.
“I can do this.”
“I know you can,” Silas sighs, before kissing me softly. “We need to return to my house to update the others. Nightfall will arrive before we know it, and the crimson moon will rise. We must be prepared, but you, above all, must be ready.”
“Have you talked to Fen anymore?” I ask.
“Not really,” he says. “She is still processing everything.”
“Do you think she will be able to handle all of this?”
“I do,” he says. “She is strong like you.”
I smile. “Try to talk to her again. She needs you.”
Silas nods and grabs my hand as we shift together out of the stuffy castle walls and toward his house on the cliff. The world blurs as we move swiftly through the shadows. Even though my body doesn’t feel like my own, I continue to grip Silas’s hand tightly.
My mind races faster than our bodies. Aerona is lying for some reason.
Fen has had the stone this entire time, and I believe we possess something akin to the resurrection stone, though I have no idea what gifts or curses this stone could bring.
I know that we are one step closer to discovering everything we need to fight this battle, yet my nerves don’t ease.
The truth being so close only makes me more anxious.
I say a silent prayer to the Gods that what we seek is truly in the Archives and can help us.
Our bodies reappear outside the small house on the wooden porch that covers most of the front. Silas smiles and squeezes my hand, opening the door that will lead us down into the main part of the house, in the open living area.
As we enter the house, I can hear the muffled bickering of Maines, Oak, and Larkin below.
The translation must have already begun, and they are arguing over who is correct.
We descend into the central part of the house and find them all sitting around the large wooden table, the unfolded sheet of paper before them.
Oak holds his head in his hands while Maines paces around the room.
Her usually perfect hair is a tangled mess, and Larkin sits back with both feet propped on the table.
I glance around the room for Fen and Warrick and can barely see their silhouettes on the balcony, alone.
The paper illuminates in the sun but quickly fades as a shadow of a cloud crosses the low-hanging sun.
Larkin sees us first and quickly drops his feet to the ground.
He notices my stare toward the balcony and says, “They need a minute alone.”
Silas moves toward the table and sits down in his usual spot at the head. I follow suit and sit between him and Larkin. Oak raises his head, his tired eyes filled with confusion and worry. Maines returns to her seat and forcefully sits down beside Oak.
Silas clears his throat. “I see the translation is progressing well.”
“Oh, shut up, Nastronde,” Oak snaps back, placing his glasses back on his face. “It’s going terribly. None of this makes sense.”
Maines rubs his hand, offering him some comfort and support.
“What does it say, Oak?” I ask.
He wipes his brow and places both hands on the table, trying to calm himself. “I told you it doesn’t make sense, and the same text is written three times.”
Oak slides a piece of paper in my direction with many different scribbles, written text, and practiced Rigils in Oak’s handwriting.
I study the page and read:
Shadow and light must coexist in harmony. The blood of the panicked must be bled for the answers to be obtained.
I glance at Oak, and his hair is even more disheveled than before, and I read the last sentence.
Invisible darkness cannot fight the undetectable.
My thoughts run wild, and I lift my gaze once more, finding Oak practically falling out of his chair as the anticipation fills him. I find it hilarious, I must say. A loud bubble of nervous laughter escapes my throat, and his face turns puzzled.
“This is funny to you?” Oak sits straight up. “I’m over here about to go cross-eyed, and you are laughing?”
“I’m sorry.” I laugh again. “How the hell did we wind up here?”
I glance around the room, and the others watch me, clearly believing I’ve gone insane.
“A year ago, we would have all thought someone was insane if they told us where we would end up.”
Maines smiles. “I agree.”
“I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else, though. I’m going to fix this for us.”
Fen and Warrick walk back into the room, hearing our conversation, and Fen sits at the table beside Maines.
Her face is pale, and I can tell she hasn’t slept well.
The stone around her neck is distracting, but I do all I can to ignore the jewel after discovering what I think is a second stone.
It’s been safe this long with her, so I’m going to let it remain that way until we know more.
Warrick remains cold as ice, and for the first time, his face looks gaunt and tired.
Larkin shuffles in his chair. “You speak as if you are doing this alone, Briar. You aren’t alone.”
“Agreed. We are doing this together or not at all,” Silas speaks.
“You all may proceed without me, because if I endure any more of this, I’m likely to die from stress,” Oak says, clearly having regained some of his humor.
“No, you aren’t,” Fen says. “ You are stuck with us all, Hombern, whether you like it or not.”
We chuckle briefly until silence falls back over us. The page before me burns into my memory, and I take a moment to mentally prepare for what’s to come.
“I’m assuming you all know what the message means within the Rigil? I’m the only one feeling left out?” Oak asks.
“You aren’t left out, Oak,” Maines replies. “I just know that Silas and Briar already have a plan, like always.”
We exchange a quick look, and I give him the go-ahead to fill them all in.
Silas clears his throat. “Tonight, Briar will enter the Forgotten Archives. We will take the information that we have and pray that it’s enough for her to find the answers we seek.
Many documents in there pertain to the Great Wiitches, and possibly what we need to destroy them, or at least save our vessels. ”
Fen flinches at that word, like the link between her and Rohhit is painful.
Silas continues, “I have no idea how long Briar has in the Archives, but we will wait outside the door. Should anything go wrong, I’m prepared to enter, protected or not.”
“I’m prepared, too,” Larkin says.
“So are we,” Maines says, along with Oak.
I snap my gaze to them. “No way. If you’re not protected, then there’s no way you can come in after me.”
“Like we said,” Larkin interjects. “You aren’t alone in this, so stop trying to be.”
I smile, and a rush of gratitude fills me.
“Then it’s settled. We will prepare for tonight.
” Silas stands. “Tomorrow morning, I will declare myself King of Andorwood before the entire kingdom. I will give them the option to choose their own paths or fight alongside us. Andorwood has kept the true state of this kingdom a secret all these years. However, we are still a band of rebels. Whatever happens, our plan remains unchanged.”
“I agree,” I say, standing alongside him. “We have our plans in motion and are prepared for when the ship gets closer. We will stick to the plan we established together.”
The rest of the group stands and dismisses themselves.
Silas and the men move toward the sitting area to discuss the upcoming events, while Maines heads to her bedroom to gather a few healing properties we may need should things go wrong tonight.
Fen remains alone, and I watch her sluggishly return to the balcony, desperate to be in a wide-open space.
I give her a second to settle in, and I follow behind her. The open air tickles my nose, and I take a deep breath as I walk up beside her at the railing.
“Are you alright?” I ask, hesitating because I already know the answer.
Her beautiful face turns in my direction. Her long black hair moves in the wind, and her piercing eyes seem dull, like she’s lost.
She huffs an uncomfortable laugh. “I don’t even know anymore.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“How do you cope with everything that’s happened? I feel like I’m constantly falling into a deep hole, and the deeper I go, the harder it will be to come back up for air.” Tears form on her eyelids. “He’s consuming me.”
“Who?” I ask, but know the answer.
“All my waking thoughts revolve around Rohhit. It’s an itch I can’t scratch—a need—a desperate desire to find him. If this is anything like how Silas felt for five whole years, I don’t know how he endured the pain without ending it all.”