Chapter 30
Six months later, Aeryn stood against the stone wall of yet another abandoned room, her back aching. She’d lost count of how many “this might be the one” rooms had turned out to be nothing but dust.
The room they were examining today, like countless others before it, showed no signs of being Serathen’s hiding place. Khaeric and Garran methodically examined the stone floor.
“Nothin’ here either,” Khaeric said, rising to his full height with a frustrated sigh. Dust motes danced in the light from the crystal lamps they’d brought, illuminating the disappointment etched on his face.
Aeryn closed her eyes, trying to recall Serathen’s memory with greater clarity. The room in the vision had been modest: stone walls, a hearth, a wooden table. But those details described hundreds of chambers throughout Beinn Ork.
“Ye should rest,” Khaeric said, crossing to her side. “The babe needs it, even if ye’re too stubborn to admit ye do.”
Aeryn sighed, one hand pressed against her lower back. The ache had become a constant companion these last weeks, growing sharper with each passing day. “I suppose you’re right.” The words felt like surrender, though she knew her body demanded it.
“Would ye like me to walk ye back to our chambers?” Khaeric asked, already dusting off his hands on his breeches.
“No,” Aeryn said, pushing herself away from the wall. “Stay and finish here with Garran and the others. I can find my way.”
Khaeric nodded. “Send word if ye need anythin’.”
She made her way out of the room, one hand against the wall for support. The corridors of the eastern settlement were narrower than the main halls of Beinn Ork, carved when the mountain stronghold was young.
The baby shifted restlessly within her, as if protesting the slow pace. Aeryn paused, pressing a hand to the side of her belly where a small foot or elbow pressed outward. “Patience,” she said softly. “We’ll rest soon enough.”
As she rounded the next bend, the child kicked sharply—a swift, painful jab that made her brace herself against the wall.
The sudden movement sent a ripple through her abdomen.
A scraping sound interrupted, stone grinding against stone, somewhere close.
Aeryn stopped. The sound came again, a harsh, dragging noise that seemed to vibrate through the corridor walls.
Scanning the dimly lit passage, Aeryn stepped forward tentatively, curiosity overcoming caution. She found a narrow side passage she’d never noticed before. It was barely wide enough for her to pass through in her current state.
The baby kicked again, harder this time; a forceful jab that made Aeryn gasp and clutch her belly.
But this wasn’t like his usual restless movements.
This felt purposeful, urgent, as if he were trying to tell her something.
Heat spread from where his tiny foot pressed against her ribs, a warmth that seemed to pulse outward through her entire body.
As she leaned against the wall, the stone beneath her palm grew warm. Then came the grinding sound, low and resonant, vibrating up through her bones. The narrow passage rumbled, and she watched in stunned fascination as stone walls slid back several inches on either side.
Magic. A gentle, earthy power that seemed to flow from her child through her body and into the very foundations of the mountain. What had been barely wide enough for her to squeeze through now opened to accommodate her swollen form comfortably. “Did you do that?” she whispered.
Aeryn studied the opening for a moment. “Well then,” she said with one hand resting over her abdomen. “Let’s see where you’re leading us.” She stepped into the passage, her free hand against the stone.
The air grew cooler as she ventured deeper.
The crystal-lights that brightened the main halls were absent here, but the darkness didn’t hinder her; she could see relatively well without them.
The passage wound gently left, then right, before straightening into a final stretch.
An open archway waited at its far end, leading into a chamber.
The space beyond was abandoned; no furnishings, only a layer of dust across the floor.
Aeryn entered, her steps leaving clear impressions as she ventured further.
The moment her foot crossed the threshold, her vision blurred, the dusty chamber momentarily replaced by another—warmer, lived-in, filled with the soft glow of firelight.
Serathen’s voice echoed in her mind, clear as if she stood beside her: ‘The third from the left and the fourth back.’
Then the vision shattered, leaving her gasping in the present. She blinked rapidly, her hand instinctively moving to steady herself against the wall. This was it. This had to be the chamber from Serathen’s memory. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she scanned the room.
The hearth still stood against the far wall, though cold and empty now.
The wooden table was gone, along with any other furnishings that might have made this a home centuries ago.
She placed herself where she remembered Serathen standing in the vision, near the center of the room,and turned slowly, orienting herself as her ancestor had done.
“Third from the left, fourth back.” Aeryn lowered herself carefully, one hand braced against the floor for balance, the other supporting her belly. Dust coated her fingertips as she searched along the edge of the first tile, then the second, then the third from the left wall.
“One, two, three, four back,” she counted, her fingertips searching for any irregularity in the seam between stones.
Her hand hovered over what she believed to be the right stone, her fingers trembling as she traced the seam.
The floor was cold beneath her touch, but something else pulsed there.
Pressure built at the base of her skull, the same type of sensation she felt when she tried to activate the memory orb. Magic.
It was here. After months of searching, she’d found it.
Serathen’s words echoed in her mind: ‘Blood of my blood. Only blood of my blood shall break this seal.’ Without hesitation, Aeryn reached for the silver brooch pinned at her waist, unclasping it from her dress.
She pressed the sharp tip against the pad of her index finger and inhaled deeply.
With a quick, decisive motion, she pricked her skin.
A bead of crimson welled up, bright against her pale flesh.
Aeryn let the drop of blood fall; the crimson bead struck the stone with a soft pat, then spread outward in a thin, branching pattern.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the floor beneath her began to hum.
A soft hiss filled the air as the sealed stone loosened.
The floor tile shifted, rising slightly at one corner as if inviting her to lift it.
With trembling fingers, she worked at the edge of the stone, her nails catching in the widened seam.
The tile came free with surprising ease, lighter than she’d expected.
Beneath lay a hollow space filled with documents, just as she’d seen in Serathen’s memory.
“Khaeric!” Her voice echoed through the chamber. “KHAERIC!” The second call was desperate, urgent. Heavy footfalls thundered down the corridor moments later; Khaeric burst into the room, eyes wide and frantic. Garran and Thorn followed close behind, their massive frames crowding the narrow doorway.
“Aeryn!” Khaeric’s voice boomed through the space. “What happened? Are ye hurt?” His gaze swept over her crouched form, searching for signs of injury.
“How did ye find this passage?” Garran asked, his eyes darting around the unfamiliar space. “We’ve been through this section a dozen times and never saw it.”
Thorn pushed past them both, his face twisted in confusion. “This corridor wasnae here before. I’d stake my life on it.”
“Look!” Aeryn gestured to the open space, her voice trembling with excitement. “I found it, Khaeric. Serathen’s documents—they’re here!”
She carefully reached into the hollow space, extracting a leather-bound bundle tied with frayed cord. The leather had hardened with age, cracking slightly beneath her touch, but it protected its contents well. Dust puffed into the air as she lifted the package.
“Blood and bone,” Garran whispered, crouching beside her. “After all these months…”
Khaeric knelt at her side. His eyes widened as he stared at the package in her hands. “How did ye…?” He shook his head, words failing him.
“The baby,” Aeryn said. “I think... I think he’s the one who showed me the way.”
Khaeric’s brows furrowed, his eyes widening as he stared at her rounded abdomen. “What do ye mean?”
“The passage—it wasn’t there before. I felt him kick, harder than usual.
” Aeryn placed her hand over her abdomen.
“And then the stones... they moved. They made way for me.” She looked up at Khaeric, her eyes wide.
“And when I reached this chamber, I saw Serathen’s memory—clear as day. It was as if he guided me here.”
Garran sucked in a sharp breath. Thorn stepped back, his massive frame suddenly rigid.
“That’s not possible,” Thorn whispered, though his voice lacked conviction. “The babe’s not even born yet.”
“Stonecaller,” Khaeric breathed.
“What?” Aeryn stared down at her belly, trying to comprehend what Khaeric meant. A Stonecaller. She had heard of some of the magical gifts the orcs possessed, but she couldn’t remember hearing about stonecallers.
“A Stonecaller is one of the gifts among our kind,” Thorn explained.
“Ye’ve seen Brenn’s healin’, Mael’s stone-tongue.
” His eyes flicked to her rounded belly.
“They can shape stone with their will, find passages where none seem to exist, even create pathways through solid rock when needed. But for him to manifest it so early, while still unborn…” Thorn shook his head in wonder.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Usually the gifts dinnae show until a child can walk and speak. ”