37 || Foe of Darkness
How many ways were there to threaten a book? Whatever the number was, Morana had exhausted them all. She had promised to dunk the Necromancer's Tome in the Molten Sea so its pages would soak with water. Throwing it to a bloodhound so it could be torn to shreds hadn't been a better ultimatum either.
It was as if the book had a smug grin on its cover that she couldn't wipe off no matter how she tried.
While the necromancer had the task of dealing with the tome, staying holed up in a room in the Defiant Moon Tavern, Damian had taken it upon himself to find a way back into the castle.
Morana's face was plastered across every surface of the island thanks to the royal guards, but the Fireborn's wasn't. Not yet, at least. She knew he could handle himself, but she couldn't help but worry about him.
He hadn't left without a stern warning that, if he didn't return by nightfall, she would storm into the castle for him.
The Lost Abyss would be torn to shreds until she found him.
"Fire boy," Morana murmured under her breath, the beginnings of an idea entering her mind. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she turned back to the book. "Are you scared of fire? There won't be anything left of you if you're burnt to a crisp."
Nothing. The Necromancer's Tome remained motionless on the bed sheets. With a sigh, she hauled it across the room where it hit the wall with an obnoxious thud. Not even a flap of its pages sounded in response.
She wouldn't be surprised if it were enchanted to be protected from all of those things.
It knew she wasn't getting in, so it only thought of her as a nuisance.
There was no way she could give up now. The information they needed was inside and it was their only hope if Damian came back empty-handed.
Rising from the bed, Morana sat on the floor beside where the tome had landed. "Someone else managed to open you and study you. How did they do it? Who was it?"
As expected, silence was the only companion to stick with her.
The necromancer closed her eyes and let her head rest against the wall, exhaustion creeping through her limbs.
When would everything be over? She remembered the days when she would only track people down and kill them for Silas.
Days that had been so simple in comparison, no matter how difficult they felt.
There hadn't been any emotional ties involved, no annoying books with minds of their own.
Morana cracked an eye open as something brushed against her arm. Something slithered across her skin made of unnerving silk. Strands of darkness poured from the Necromancer's Tome, its spine cleaved open as if the pages would fall out of their binding.
She shuffled away from its hold until her back hit the bed frame.
Bone shards flew from her pouch in an attempt to quell the enemy that took form, but they only passed straight through the shadows and onto the ground.
These were the same ones that she had seen on the clifftops, the same ones she had seen that night.
And it had come from the Necromancer's Tome.
"No, wait. Please. I'm sorry. I won't set you on fire, I promise.
" Her necklace wrenched against her neck, trying to escape, the purple light from the gemstone casting harrowing silhouettes across the wall.
Morana only had her bones with her and they couldn't be used against the foe of darkness.
Not that a blade would have been much use either.
As she backed away until she was behind the bed and peered over the mattress, the shadows took form.
Carefully, as if each wisp was meticulously placed, the darkness sculpted a pair of legs.
Then a torso. The curse was getting better at crafting now with the smallest details even more apparent than before.
If she stared at the swirling darkness for too long, she could have sworn she saw skin underneath.
Arms were carved on the sides of the body and, finally, the head was cast. Panicked breaths caught in Morana's throat when the recognisable features were formed.
"Mother?"
It was unmistakable. She looked exactly the same as the night she died, before Morana had accidentally made a hole in her neck. Her hands trembled with boundless nerves. "Why? Why are you doing this?"
Queen Oleress's head snapped to the side in a tilted question. Her hands merged into a pointed finger to guide her attention back to the tome.
"I know you came from there, but why?" How did it know what her mother looked like? It had to be feeding from her fears.
The necklace's chain fractured, letting it fly towards the shadow form. It soared through her mother's throat once more, embedding itself in the wall behind her.
Morana's vision frayed, her memories splitting at the seams. A serpent squeezed her chest, stealing every breath from her lungs.
She clutched her head, pulling at her hair, but she couldn't get it to stop.
The twisted reveries of blood, of the dagger sticking out of her chest, of her sister's cries.
"Bone girl," a soothing voice cut through the echoes of the past. "It's alright. Can you look at me?" Hands rubbed up and down her arms, giving her something to cling to.
The necromancer dragged her locked stare away from the book, from her mother's figure that had dissipated upon the arrival of her saviour, and met the familiar pools of mottled fire. The eyes of her fire boy.
"Good." Damian's returning smile didn't help her heart calm in the slightest. "You need to breathe, okay?
" Morana almost laughed at how impossible that task was.
"In." He breathed in slowly as her guide, a flame to ward off the shadows around her.
"And out." He followed his own command before starting the cycle again.
She struggled at first, waging a war between her heart and her mind, but soon the venomous serpent retreated back into its den.
"There you are." The Fireborn brushed out her tangled hair with his fingers, smoothing it out and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"The tome. It showed my mother with those shadows I saw on the cliff," she explained.
"Why did it do that?" Damian crossed his legs, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"I don't kn-" the realisation stole the words from her mouth.
"Because it was her. She was the one who made the notes inside it.
I asked the book who was able to open it without a contraption of some kind, and it showed me her.
" Morana's gaze latched onto her necklace, the gemstone still bright with vibrant fury.
"The notes stopped partway through the book because I killed her.
She couldn't finish them because she was dead. "
Even before the twins had understood what the threat of the Necromancer's curse would bring when they were younger, their mother had been working to find a way to break it. She might have found an answer if Morana hadn't ruined everything. It was yet another way she was cursed.
"Was this the one you said was an accident?" Damian wiped the tears from her cheeks as they fell.
"One I keep making over and over," she replied with a nod.
She couldn't do this again. Morana couldn't submerge herself in the past anymore, she needed to focus on the present.
Pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes, she stifled the rest of her tears.
"You're back safe and sound, though. Did you find anything? "
"We can talk about it if you want to," the Fireborn offered with an outstretched hand.
"Thank you, but I don't." Unable to resist the temptation, she still intertwined her fingers with his. "You're not hurt or anything, are you?"
"Not a scratch. However, we might have some complications. I wasn't able to make it to the castle, but I did find a way in. We just need to wait a day." Damian squeezed her hand, absentmindedly tracing the ridges on display.
"That's still good news! What's the catch?" All they needed right now was another obstacle in their path.
"The Wyrith army is searching for me. There were soldiers everywhere across the main city and my guess is that they'll be heading to the Lost Abyss soon enough. It has to be the work of my brother." His free hand clenched into a fist.
Morana gasped. "Do you have a wanted poster?"
"If you look at it a certain way, maybe?" Letting go of her hand, he pulled out a piece of rolled up parchment from his cloak and handed it to her.
Sketched in sharpened pencil was an artistic render of the man in front of her.
Each stroke made the Fireborn look worried and distressed, yet somehow there was still a royal air about his posture.
Instead of 'wanted' written across the top in Wyrith-standard block capitals, 'missing person' was printed there.
The reward for finding the prince and taking him safely to a soldier was almost as much as the bounty on Morana's head.
"Aw, we're matching. And they even got your looks right. That's the biggest compliment the army could give you!" Rolling the poster back up, she held it close to her chest — a precious keepsake she would treasure forever. "What do you mean by waiting a day?"
"There's a ball being held in a day's time and that's our ticket inside.
The security around certain parts of the castle should be lower.
It won't be easy getting in, but it's the best chance we have.
I couldn't get close to Celnaer Castle, exactly, but everyone was talking about it.
They aren't happy the royal family is hosting celebrations while graveyards are overflowing. "
That was the same ball she found an invitation for inside Silas's office, the one that he would be attending too.
"Well, they'll be happy when it helps stop people from dying.
" Morana stood, using the wall to steady her balance.
"We have our way in. Now, we just need a way to get into the library for our information.
" Instead of being stumped and clueless, this time the necromancer had a plan lurking and waiting to be used.