Chapter Thirty-One
The four of them walked to the jagged opening in the library floor and peered down into the darkness. The cool air rising from below smelled faintly of stone and damp earth.
Juliette summoned flames to her palm, the light spilling down into the gaping hole. The glow caught, flickering over a small cavern below.
“I can’t believe this has been here all this time,” Juliette breathed.
“I want to go down,” Edmund said. “Andrew, can you create a ladder? It doesn’t look too far, but I’d rather not twist an ankle.”
Without a word, Andrew lifted his hand and the air shimmered with a fine mist. A glistening ice unfurled downward, the rungs forming neatly into a solid structure, catching the light in cold reflections.
Nodding his thanks, Edmund descended the ladder. Juliette shot Isla a look, and with a silent agreement they both stepped forward to follow
“Edmund, be a dear,” Juliette called down, all innocence in her tone, “and step away from the bottom of the ladder—we’d rather keep our dignity intact as we climb down.”
There was a frantic shuffle below, as if he’d practically leapt aside. Isla stifled a laugh, though she heard Juliette snicker.
The ladder was cold, but it didn’t hurt her hands; still, she had to be careful—it was slick in places. One by one, they climbed down, Andrew close behind, Juliette directing her glowing orbs to float as she moved, leaving both hands free to grasp the rungs.
The deeper they went, the thicker the air grew—old dust and secrets pressed close.
When Isla reached the bottom, she looked around the small cavern.
The walls were lined with carved alcoves still holding ancient scrolls and relics.
Fragments of Latin inscriptions clung to the stonework, half swallowed by lichen.
A single iron lantern hung from the ceiling. A stone desk stood in one corner—curiously laid out with both an inkpot and quill, and a modern set of pens. Across one wall, half obscured by moss and grime, was a faded mural: a figure holding what looked like a staff, surrounded by constellations.
Though cobwebs draped the corners, the floor itself looked cleaner. The dust hadn’t fully settled; people still walked these floors.
“This place is ... well, it may have been worth ruining my library floor to see the history down here,” Juliette said, studying the mural.
“It is rather fascinating—but also a little creepy,” Isla admitted, her voice dropping at the end. Andrew must have caught it; he looked up from the desk, offering her a faint smile.
“Juliette, can you send some light this way?” Edmund called.
Juliette turned and waved her hand in his direction, her floating orbs gliding silently toward him. They illuminated a narrow tunnel at the far side of the chamber—one Isla hadn’t noticed before.
“I’m going to see where this leads,” Edmund said.
“Then you’ll need a light. Come on—if you’re going blundering into the unknown, someone sensible ought to come with you.”
Edmund quirked an eyebrow at Juliette before following the petite librarian into the unknown.
He glanced back toward Isla and Andrew to see if they were coming, but Isla already had one hand on the ladder.
She wasn’t about to walk down a dark tunnel; she’d had more than her fill of small dark spaces.
Neither did she want to linger in the cavern once Juliette’s light disappeared, despite the faint glow coming from the library above.
“I think I’ll just go and check on the two men ...” she said quickly. It wasn’t much of an excuse, but given the choice between a cramped tunnel and two bound men who weren’t likely to cause trouble, she’d take the latter.
She began to climb quickly, hearing Andrew close behind, his arms on either side of her on the outside of the ladder. At least his head was close to her back and not any lower. Her shoes slipped slightly against the slick rungs in her haste, and before she could catch herself, her foot slid.
Firm hands caught her around the waist.
“Steady there,” Andrew said quietly.
His voice was close; she could feel the coolness of his hands through the fabric of her blouse. For a heartbeat, neither moved.
“I’m fine,” she managed, though her pulse told another story.
“I didn’t say you weren’t,” he replied, his hand lingering a moment longer. “I just like holding you.”
“Andrew,” she grumbled on a laugh, her cheeks warming despite herself.
He chuckled behind her, and though she rolled her eyes, she didn’t quite manage to hide her smile.
Once above ground, Isla looked at the two men, still unconscious and bound. The sight made her uneasy.
“I can’t believe the scale of it all,” she said quietly. “This organization—it’s so much bigger than I imagined. It’s a lot to take in. I’m scared, Andrew. I know that probably makes me seem weak, but it feels like we’re at war here on our home turf.”
Andrew came to stand beside her, their shoulders almost brushing. He reached for her hand, his fingers interlocking with hers as he studied the men on the floor.
“It is a kind of war,” he said, his voice low. “Most of us never get to choose the battles we’re drawn into. We just find ourselves in them, whether we’re ready or not. But choice or no choice, we still decide what sort of people we’ll be in the middle of it.”
He turned to her then, his expression softening. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’ve handled everything incredibly well. You’ve every right to be afraid, but your bravery has been astounding.”
She looked up at him, her breath quietly exhaling. His hand tightened around hers—steady, certain—and for a moment, the noise and fear of the world beyond seemed very far away.
His eyes were so intent on her, sweeping over her face as if committing every detail to memory. The warmth in his gaze seemed to gather around him—until—
“Andrew!” Edmund’s voice rang out sharply. “Your ladder’s melting!”
Andrew jolted, blinking hard as if waking from a spell. “What—oh, blast—” He flung out a hand toward the opening, frost spiraling as he refroze the slick rungs.
Isla chuckled as Andrew cleared his throat, a touch of color rising to his cheeks. “Purely a temperature miscalculation,” he muttered, though the warmth in his eyes gave him away.
“Oh, I’m sure it was,” she replied, her tone teasing, eyes sparkling.
Andrew gave her a roguish look, leaning in to place a gentle, lingering kiss on her cheek. He stepped back, a satisfied smirk playing across his face as he studied her flustered expression.
Just then, Edmund’s head appeared over the edge. Isla tried to keep her expression nonchalant, though the simple kiss had made her stomach whoosh.
The detective walked over to them, eyebrow raised. “You might want to strengthen those handcuffs too,” he said, voice dripping with amusement.
Andrew froze for a split second, then gave Isla a sheepish grin.
Edmund smirked, a knowing look on his face.
Juliette joined them, and to Isla’s surprise, George followed.
“Where did you appear from, George?” Andrew asked.
George adjusted his cap, fingers dusted with clay. “I’d just finished a pottery session and went next door to the storage room to organize a few things when I saw Edmund’s head pop out of a trapdoor. Gave me the fright of my life.
“I knew the door was there, but I’d been told the tunnel was no longer in use. To be honest, I didn’t give it much thought. I know of several other tunnels around campus, but this one was new to me.”
“Frankly,” Isla said, shivering slightly, “with the way the library floor was opened to reveal the cavern below, locks and doors are hardly a barrier. The Ossa Arcana could gain entry anywhere if they have a Terra Aetherian.” She swallowed hard, imagining the invisible reach of someone with such power.
George’s expression darkened as he looked down at the two men on the floor. “Juliette filled me in on these two, and your discovery of the book. There are laws against entering private spaces, but I doubt this group cares for such formalities.”
“For now,” Edmund said, “let’s put the book back, keep an eye on the two entrances we know of, and question these men. Andrew, could you lower the chest the way it came up?”
Andrew nodded. Juliette carefully laid the book back inside the chest, and once the lid was closed, Andrew eased the heavy box down into the hole.
“Isla, do you think you can seal the hole, or is it too much?”
All eyes turned to her. A sudden flutter of panic rose in her chest. Replacing the stone and earth exactly as it had been felt daunting.
“I can help,” George said, his palm glowing green.
“You got your powers back!” Isla exclaimed, relief washing over her as the familiar grin returned to his face. “I felt awful while they were absent.”
“Sorry, I was planning on telling you this evening,” he replied with a shrug. “They returned during my pottery session just now.”
“Oh, I’m so glad. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for ... you know.” Isla glanced around the room at her friends. “I owe you all so much.” Her eyes stung and tears threatened to spill; now that her emotions were recently unlocked, she couldn’t seem to stop them bubbling to the surface.
“Is this a group hug moment?” Juliette asked, a teasing note in her voice. “I feel like it is.”
“No, it’s not,” Edmund said, his voice a little gruff, though Juliette clearly didn’t care as she smiled at him.
“Shall we lift it together, Isla?” George asked, looking over at the block where it lay off to the side. She nodded her agreement. As the group surrounded it, Isla saw a mark engraved on the top.
“It’s the Sigil mark,” Juliette said. ... “The Fated part of the mark is missing, as none of them seem to want or are capable of pure love. The Wielder and Summoner part is there ... but it’s altered.”
Her friend leaned over and traced the carved lines lightly with her fingertip. “They’ve added a skull within the circle.”
Isla shivered. The crude addition changed everything—the symbol no longer seemed to speak of unity or the rhythm of the Aether.
“They’ve made their philosophy plain,” Edmund said grimly. “Just one life to burn through—no matter who they destroy in the process.”
Edmund’s gaze lingered on the unconscious men, his voice calm but edged with resolve. “Let’s get this block in place and these two into custody. Tomorrow, we’ll see what secrets they’re willing to reveal.”
Isla took her place on one side of the block of stone while George positioned himself on the other. It was much like lifting a large cardboard box, only with no hands ... She glanced at Andrew, who gave her an encouraging wink.
She let her palms glow, and George counted them down. “On the count of three, lift. One, two, three.”
At first, the mass resisted her, stubborn as an uncooperative mule. As it rose higher, her side wobbled slightly, but she steadied it. George was patient, matching her pace. Together, they carefully lowered it into the gaping hole.
The final step was a challenge: making it look as though the floor had never been touched.
She gathered her focus, trying to guide the seams of stone and earth back together.
She sensed George working on his half. It felt fiddly, like stitching with gloves on.
She had to remind herself not to bully the ground into place, but to work with it—persuading, coaxing, smoothing.
The green glow flickered, then faded. She lowered her hands, staring at the floor. Well ... her side wasn’t perfect. Perhaps if no one looked too closely, it might pass ... It added to the historical ambience, did it not?
“Nice work, Isla!” George praised.
Juliette hurried to her side, eyes sweeping the floor. If she noticed the imperfections, she was kind enough not to mention them, as they covered the floor with the rug. Her library was back to being intact. Mostly.