Chapter Nine
Only the Goddess knew if I was his mate? I didn't like that. It made sex with the King even riskier than it already was. I considered ending things, but then I looked at him.
The King looked wary but determined as we headed into the bowels of the palace. I held a light sphere lantern aloft while he consulted his map. We had moved past the palace’s self-lighting lamps and were descending a broad staircase that had been concealed behind a shelf in a basement storage room.
I thought it was a strange way to hide a passage.
Putting a piece of furniture in front of it seemed like a temporary solution.
If it had been me, and I wanted to hide something forever, I would have bricked up the passage.
But maybe that was a good sign. It spoke more of a forgotten armory than of one deliberately sealed off.
Either way, I wasn't so sure that this hidden armory would help us, but I still wanted to see it.
It was a part of history, hidden for centuries.
Who knew what waited inside it? I would soon.
Of course, there was the distinct possibility that what lay inside had been hidden for a reason.
It could be dangerous or humiliating. I was hoping for the latter, but I had planned for the former.
In my satchel, I had several alchemical weapons—liquids in glass bottles that merely had to be thrown to be activated.
I also had my collection kit, gloves, goggles, and scarves to cover our faces.
“It should be around this corner.” King Falken folded up the map and tucked it into a pocket. “There it is.” He hurried toward a massive steel door.
“Wait, Your Majesty!” I rushed to intercept him. “Let me inspect the door first.”
King Falken lowered his hand. “Very well.”
I put on my inspection glasses and lifted the lantern. After going over every inch of the door, I found only ancient engravings. No hint of magic or triggers to engage traps. I had to admit that it seemed harmless. Or rather, it was a normal door.
I stepped back. “All right. Now, how will we get in?”
“May I?” The King held his hand out for the lantern.
I handed it over and stepped back as he went forward. Bold letters caught the light, engraved into the steel. The King peered at them and then stepped back to look at the whole of the door.
“Can you read it?” I asked.
“Yes. It says that only a Dragon can open the door.”
“That's what it says exactly?”
He frowned. “It's the ancient Dragon language. Roughly translated into Serain, it reads, 'Only those born of fire who rule by claw and fly through air can gain passage here.”
“Fire, claw, and air,” I murmured. “It must be a riddle, but there are no spells on the door.” I looked around the corridor. “Shine the lantern over here.”
The King lifted the lantern, and I pointed at a stone set into the wall that had a symbol carved into it. The symbol could be a claw, but it was a simple design, and we needed more than that. I searched the walls, the King following me with the light.
“There!” He pointed at a stone with a fire symbol carved into it.
“And there.” I pointed at a stone with a spiral carving.
“Do we press them in order?” The King pushed at the fire stone.
Nothing happened.
“No, I think you must use your fire upon it, Your Majesty.” I motioned to the stone. “Proof of who you are.”
With a pensive sound, he lifted his hand. A flame appeared above his index finger. After handing me the lantern, he set the flame to the stone. Something whirred in the door, and the flame symbol glowed white.
“You're right!” The King flicked his finger, and the flames went out. “Next is claw. Do I scratch it?”
“I think you must use a claw to scratch it.”
He chuckled. “This is an ingenious lock. Only a powerful Dragon can partially shift, and the corridor isn't large enough to allow for a full shift.”
The Dragon King lifted his hand again. This time, it transformed, his fingers lengthening and sprouting claws. Scales lifted from his skin until his hand had become a talon. He scratched a claw over the symbol, but nothing happened.
“Trace the engraving.” I eased closer.
He used the tip of a claw to trace the symbol in the stone. Another whirring came, and the claw symbol lit up.
“Now, air.” He went to the last stone. “Do I blow on it?”
“I suggest you focus your breath into the spiral.”
The King leaned forward and pursed his lips to blow air into the engraving, following the spiral. The familiar whirring came, and the symbol lit up. A boom quickly followed, and His Majesty flinched back. It was the door. We turned to it as it opened a crack.
“Wait.” I grabbed his arm when he headed for the door. I pulled out a scarf. “Here. Use this as a mask.”
As he took the scarf and tied it around his face, I put the lantern down and wrapped the second scarf around my face.
Then I pulled out two pairs of goggles and handed one to him.
As protected as he could get, the King pushed open the door.
I pulled out one of my defense bottles and picked up the lantern, lifting it over his shoulder.
Beyond the door, a stone floor spread out.
The King pushed the door wider and stepped inside.
Lowering the lantern to shoulder height, I went in behind him.
There weren't any weapons in the armory.
At least not that I could see. There were no racks of swords or barrels full of spears.
Instead, there were wooden crates stacked against the far wall. That's it.
The King went to the crates and took something from the top. As he turned back to me, I saw it was a piece of paper. “Sevarin.”
Glancing about to be sure there was no sign of rot, I went to stand next to him and lifted the lantern. It was a letter.
“That's not good,” I murmured.
“Do not handle without gloves. Do not remove from this room. If possible, destroy these items, but do not use fire.” He looked at me. “Did you bring gloves?”
“I did, but I think we need more light in here.”
“Find my steward, Torli, and tell him we need lanterns.”
“No, I don't think so, Your Majesty. I'm not leaving you down here alone with dangerous items. You will go for the steward while I remain here.”
“I am not a fool.”
“No, but you are curious and don't know how to properly unpack deadly items.”
“And you do?”
“Better than you. You brought me here for a reason. Now let me do my job.”
“Fine.” The King handed me the paper and stormed out of the armory, muttering about people who didn't respect his authority.”
I set the lantern and paper on the floor and pulled a crate off the top of a stack.
Then another. Then another. I kept going until all the crates were on the floor, lining the walls, and separated into groups based on weight.
Then I set the lantern on a crate and my satchel beside it.
Contemplating the crates and how I should proceed, I pulled on my gloves.
I went to the lightest group of crates first and pried one open. With the lid propped to the side, I brought the lantern over the top and shone the light inside. Leather portfolios and books stared back at me. Now, here was treasure.
I pulled forth a leather portfolio and opened it. A stack of papers waited within. Sitting down, I removed the papers and flipped through them. They were diagrams of enchanted items. Although I was unfamiliar with those particular designs, I knew they were old. The modern versions were better.
Frowning, I put the papers away and pulled out a book.
It was an inventor's notebook. Inside were notes on inventions and their uses.
Again, there were modern versions of the inventions with better designs.
That was to be expected, but why were these old designs packed in a crate with a warning on it?
“No one ever died from reading a book,” I murmured.
Getting up, I put the book away and moved to the second group of crates.
I opened one and held the lantern over it.
The light gleamed off silver. With a start, I jerked back.
Silver lines veined through a metal ward plate—a talisman placed within building foundations to give them an eternal ward.
It was the Silver Rot, but just the start of it.
“Why hasn't it spread?” I leaned closer. As I peered at it, a sliver of silver extended. It was just the barest fraction of an inch of movement, but I'd seen it. “Fuck!”
I grabbed the crate lid, intending to recover the crate. But then I saw the dark coating on the inside of the lid. I paused and turned the lid toward the light. Dark but translucent. I poked it. There was some give. Lifting the lid, I sniffed.
“What are you doing?” The King strode into the room in a halo of light.
He held two large lanterns, and so did each of the three men behind him.
“Put them down and get out!” I motioned to the men with him. “Hurry! There's rot in here, and you're not wearing masks!”
The men set the lanterns down and ran out of the room without waiting for the King to dismiss them.
King Falken pulled up his scarf as he watched them flee and then looked at me. “You found Silver Rot?”
“Yes. I believe it's preserved. Look.”
He brought the lanterns over and held one above the crate. “So it has come before?”
“Yes, but it looks as if they caught it in time.” I lifted the lid. “They contained it with this substance.”
The King frowned at the lid. “What is that?”
“I'm not sure, but I think it's a type of plant sap.”
“Sap?”
“Yes, there are types of sap that, when boiled, become a viscous, sticky substance. When applied to an item, they form a film similar to this. It can cushion items or waterproof things.”
“And it stopped the rot from spreading?”
“Yes.” I put the lid back. “I saw it spread. We need to be careful and inspect the crates quickly.”
“All right.” He distributed the lanterns around the room and then headed for the lighter crates.
“I've looked in one of those already,” I said. “They contain diagrams of old enchantments. The crate was unlined, so I assume they're free of contamination.”
“You looked in one? What about the others?”
“I divided them by weight. Those are lighter. I assume the rest of that group will hold more paperwork. Let's look in the heavier crates first.”
We opened crate after crate, revealing more enchanted items, all showing the beginning signs of Silver Rot. There were weapons, household items, and old equipment. After hours of searching, we stood back and stared at the resealed crates.
“So, all we've learned is that it has attacked us before.” The King crossed his arms and scowled at the crates.
I looked from the crates of items to those full of books and papers. “Why leave the records here?”
“I don't know.” He frowned deeper. “The only reason I can think of would be to prevent people from making those items.”
“Yes!” I rushed back to the books. “There was something in the notes!” I pulled out a book and flipped through until I came to the page I was looking for.
“Here.” I tapped it. “Instructions on layering enchantments! This is it. All of those items have layered enchantments. They were stacking magic.”
“We've been doing that for years.” He shrugged.
“How many years?”
“What do you mean?”
“Was there, perhaps, a time, say during the first king's reign, that enchantments weren't layered?”
The King frowned. “I'd have to check the archives, but perhaps.”
“I think compounding enchantments has led to this rot. They'd probably been doing it for years before the rot came. Then they sealed it off and stopped stacking.”
“But after years passed, we forgot why we weren't stacking enchantments and resumed the practice.”
“Yes, and the rot returned.” I glanced at the crates.
“It didn't come from here. The crates contain the rot, and it is not spreading.
I didn't want him to get defensive, so I tried to make it sound as if he wasn't specifically to blame.
“We did this to ourselves. Our advancements are the source of our destruction.”
But the King didn't need or want coddling.
“Not we, Master Sevarin. Me. I missed this warning. I ignored the archives until it was too late.”
My eyes widened at his willingness to shoulder the blame.
“It's not your fault. You couldn't have known. Your predecessor was wrong to hide this. He should have issued a formal decree and ensured its explanation in the records, thereby passing it down to the next king. Not only that, he should have warned the other kingdoms.”
“I don't care whose fault it is. I only care about fixing it.” He waved me out of the room. “If we can fix it, I will warn the other kingdoms.”
I helped him gather the lanterns and take them into the corridor, and then he shut the steel door. Clicks came, and then a rumbling boom. I raised my eyebrows at him.
“I can come back and open it when we find a cure.” The Dragon King held my gaze. “And we will, won't we?”
“I think you mean I will.” I glanced at the door. “I can't guarantee it, but I will try.”
“That's enough for me, Master Sevarin.”