Chapter Twenty-One #2
I stalk forward, sniffing as I pull my magic to the bottom of my brain, ready to exit through my jaws. There are two doorways and I poke my head into the closer one. A pristine, empty bathroom, done in all red.
I back out and turn, Ollie is doing a quick inspection of Finn, her one hand still clenched into a fist and held down at her side.
I slip around them, touching each reassuringly with my tail. I edge to the second door.
Ollie comes up next to me, touching my neck.
“A balcony. Over the sanctuary,” she whispers back to Finn, who is stuck behind the bulk of my body.
The church below looks empty from here, all done in red and white.
It’s striking and eerie against the black stone of the building itself.
On the balcony itself are two giant thrones, one of a rich red wood, probably from the famed Fluxroot Oaks near the Quiet Mountains, and the other an almost pure whitewood.
The thrones are enormous, large enough to fit a Fae twice Ollie’s size. Both are empty, however.
“Fuck,” Finn curses angrily and both Ollie and I turn in shock to look at our sweetheart. He’s pissed. And afraid.
I am too. I can’t lose them now that I’ve found them all.
“Where are they?” he hisses.
“I don’t know,” Ollie responds in a low voice, “But I don’t see any stairs.”
I tuck my wings down and squeeze through the stone doorway.
The rounded ceiling is breathtaking, a golden edge around the sphere at the top of the walls, and above, the richest, darkest blue paint.
And speckled gold stars, a perfect mimic of the night sky, are splattered throughout.
But perhaps even more stunning are the colored windows circling right below the golden circle.
Tiny blue and purple glass pieces, various shapes and sizes like a mosaicform a circular window tracing the footprint of the dome.
Sunlight sparkles through, creating dancing sparkles over the rows of wooden pews sitting upon the red carpet.
It’s breathtaking. And an engineering marvel.
I step forward and peer over the balcony, searching for any movement. But the ridiculous church is empty.
On my back, I’ll drop us down, I tell Ollie.
She takes Finn’s hand and they climb up using my foreleg. I stand and step off the balcony, wings open, and drop us easily to the ground.
They slip off my back and we all turn, taking in the space. Two doors, one leading to the smaller building, per Korben’s reports, one leading outside. His notes said the Mother and Father were rarely seen even here, in their stronghold, and he never saw them asleep in their bed.
“They have to be here somewhere,” Ollie whispers, clearly frustrated.
We both turn to look at her.
Why are you so sure?
“I just am,” she whispers angrily.
Finn nods firmly and closes his eyes. I cock my head, confused. I feel the hum of his magic and blink at Ollie.
I thought he was a healer?
She nods and shrugs at the same time.
Finn’s eyes snap open as his hand rises to point at the side of the altar. “There,” his voice is firm. “The groundwater is higher there.”
And that means what, exactly?
Ollie doesn’t translate, just hurries over. I trot after them.
“Here,” Finn clarifies, pointing to the rich, blood-red carpet just above the three steps to the large altar.
Ollie hustles to the edge of the rug and grabs it, tugging. It doesn’t budge, so I grab on with my teeth and yank, tossing my head back and forth. It peels up slowly, revealing a wooden layer over the stone. The nails pop loudly in the echoey chamber as I back up, still hauling up the carpet.
Hinges appear, followed by the rough edges showing a large doorway on the floor.
“This can’t be the main entrance,” Finn mutters.
“Emergency exit, I guess,” Ollie responds as she drops to her knees to try to find a way to open it. Finn does the same. I drop the rug and stand behind them, but I keep my head up, watching the doorways.
No one enters though, thank Narisa.
“Ah ha!”
I look back and Ollie and Finn are pulling the wooden doorway up. I hurry around and use the side of my head to help them lower it quietly to the floor.
I look at the tiny hole, blackness beyond. I shuffle my front feet, worried. I don’t want to change to my Fae form. I’m much better equipped to keep Ollie safe as a dragon.
Ollie must sense my indecision, for she lays a hand on my side. “Go find the main entrance. I’m guessing it’s on the cliff face. Keep these bastards from escaping. We’ll meet in the middle.”
Fuck.
“Go, Vale. It’s a solid plan. I’ll keep Ollie safe,” Finn reassures me.
“Maybe I’ll keep you safe, Finnick?” Ollie suggests, a bit of teasing in her voice.
Her attitude makes me feel better and I nose both of them while taking a deep breath, steeling myself to leave them, even though it won’t be for long.
As I turn, they both say, “Love you too, Vale,” and my step falters.
Yup, let’s kill all these bastards so I can put all my little treasures into a nice, safe, hoard somewhere.
MY MAGIC CRACKLES IN my parted jaw, creating a flickering light as I hurry through the cavern.
The opening had indeed been on the cliff face, open to the ocean, but hidden partially behind an outcropping. From the air it had been easy enough to find, but it would be hidden from the sea’s surface or the land above, the blackness of the cave blending perfectly with the stone.
So the Mother and Father have wings? Or one of them does? I wonder.
I’m worried about what Ollie and Finn found, I’m worried they are hurt. I’m just worried. And I don’t fucking like that feeling.
The tunnel quickly narrows but I continue at a trot. I hear yelling and I snap my mouth closed as I break into a full-out run.
The passageway tightens more but I can see light emerging from a doorway ahead. I throw myself at it, using my front legs to push myself through as my wings and belly scrape at the small opening.
Ollie is standing over Finn’s body, his green braid loose and strewn across the floor. My eyes scan the room: I take in two open, empty coffins, carved with the Monkwick family sigil over and over, inner red satin rotten and decaying, before my eyes settle on the full horror before me.
The Mother and Father appear as if they have been dead for ages, their skin sunken, eyes deep in the sockets, hair brittle.
The Mother, in a bridal gown, has skin that is perhaps green—when she is healthy.
The Father, his skin a snow white, except for the two clear markings from the outer edges of his eyes, outward.
He’s half-shifted, a parody of a bird, skinny wings with large patches, bare of feathers.
The Mother is on all fours, hissing menacingly. Ollie stands, both hands dripping poison and I see dribbles of blood spattered thickly near Finn’s body.
The Mother jumps forward, amazingly quickly. Ollie lurches towards her, reaching for her flesh but the Mother throws herself back at the last moment. The Father caws, and as I open my mouth, I realize he’s a seagull shifter.
I’d laugh if I wasn’t so terrified.
I let my magic out, a sharp snap of electricity. I’m normally resistant to using it in enclosed places, where anyone I’d prefer to live is located, but I have no choice.
The bolt flashes the circular room into singular brilliance, followed immediately by pitch black as it hits the Father near immediately. His cry cuts off, and I hear his dead body hit the floor.
The Mother screams, turning to me. I can see her, but she—and my loves—can likely see nothing in the aftermath of the lightning.
I back up, trying to draw her farther from Ollie and Finn before I burn her nerves to a crisp.
But my brave, big-hearted Ollie darts forward, slapping her wet hand upon the Mother’s neck. The Mother screams and starts to shift, but it’s too late. Her emaciated body twists horribly, caught in death throes mid-transformation.
Ollie dances backward, for once concerned for her own well-being, in her long, self-preservationless life.
And then, abruptly, in the silence and flickering torchlight, there is a green lizard with long hair and a grotesque half-human face, clearly dead, upon the black stone floor.
I spin in a circle, opening my mouth again, nervous that there is another threat. But all I see are doorways, the same as the one I entered through.
I shift quickly, running and dropping to my knees next to Finn. As I place a hand upon his chest, he groans, head lolling towards me.
“Oh thank fuck,” I mutter. I look him over. He has several bite wounds—from a human-sized mouth but with deep, pointed punctures—bloody and inflamed-looking, but nothing that should cause him to be insensible.
“The Mother got him. I’m afraid she had a venomous bite. Some kind of lizard...” Ollie shakes her head, eyes wide and pupils blown. “They were asleep in those coffins, but she sat up, awake, as soon as we stepped inside. Another ward, probably,” Ollie states, regret clear in her tone.
I nod, thinking. I cannot carry a human in my claws and another on my back, the drag is too much and I need my legs to lift off. Ollie cannot hold a mostly unconscious Finn on my back through flying.
“C’mon, love,” I mutter as I grab his arm, “Up you get, we gotta get the fuck out of here.”
Ollie helps me lever Finnick to standing and I put his arm over my shoulder.
“Which tunnel, star?”
She spins, silent.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “We saw the coffins from the left side as we came down it, so it has to be one of these three.” She points.
“Fuck, I am an idiot,” she mutters before I can respond.
“Quite enough,” I order, frowning. “The only one who gets to degrade my star is me, and only when my cock is inside her.”
A tiny smile lifts a corner of her mouth.
“Best guess, Ollie, and let’s get the fuck out of here.”