Chapter 42 #2
Silver bleeds from my skin more intensely now, lighting up the narrow passageway.
Mira looks alarmed, and Sacha glances upward toward the path that would lead us to the fortress.
But the pull I’m feeling isn’t coming from above.
It’s coming from deeper down, from memories I’m not entirely sure I want to recover.
This is where the Authority conducted their experiments on children. Where they forced stolen power into bodies too young to contain it safely. And part of me—the part that was changed here, forged here through pain and Authority ambition—knows there's something waiting for me in that place.
“Ellie … we came here for Sereven. He’s above us, not below.” Mira says carefully, her voice gentle but worried.
“I know.” The words feel distant, disconnected from the growing certainty in my chest. “But there’s something else down there. I can feel it calling to me.”
The memory flashes are making it difficult to focus on anything else. The taste of metal fills my mouth. My ears are full of voices speaking in hushed tones about vessels and the greater good. About children who were acceptable losses in service of a larger purpose.
“I was there. It’s where they changed me. Where they forced power into me, and made me into what I am.”
A hand finds my shoulder, catching me as another wave of memories threatens to drive me to my knees.
“You don’t have to go there.” It’s Mira, her voice firm. “Whatever happened in that place, it’s over now. You’re not that helpless child anymore.”
But I am, in some ways. Part of me is still that frightened little girl who was too small to fight back, too young to understand what was being done to her. And now we’re so close to where it all happened, her voice is too loud for me to ignore.
The silver light flares again, brighter this time, and I can see the concern on everyone's faces. I'm becoming a distraction, a liability. If I can't get control of this, I'll be a danger to all of them, and to Sacha.
No matter how Mira says otherwise, it isn’t over.
Not really. It’s calling to me. The place where I was forged into Stormvein through pain and Authority ambition.
And while part of me desperately wants to run, to flee up toward clean air and sunlight, I know that until I face what was done to me in that chamber, I’ll never be truly free of it.
Sacha studies my face for a long moment, and I can see him weighing options. What we’re here to do based against what I’m saying. The lives of two hundred and fifty people against whatever is calling to me from below.
“Sereven can wait,” he says finally, his voice is soft. “This can’t.”
Relief almost makes me sag. He understands. He’s supporting my need.
“Varam, Mira, you stay with us. Meren, Kalliss, Vorith, and Nyassa, split the rest between you and continue as planned. Find the Authority forces and engage them.”
“What about you?” Vorith asks.
“We’re going deeper.” Sacha’s voice is grim. “We’re going to follow these memories and see what’s waiting at the end of them.”
“And if it’s a trap?” Kalliss demands.
“Then we spring it ourselves, on our own terms.”
We separate into two groups, most continuing upward toward the fortress while the four of us turn and head deeper underground.
I lead the way now, following instincts I don’t understand toward memories I don’t want.
The passages grow damper as we descend, the air heavier.
After a while, strange symbols begin appearing on the walls, carved deep into the stone and filled with what looks like tarnished silver.
“These markings.” Varam stops to examine one. “I’ve never seen anything like them before.”
“It wasn’t the Authority.” I don’t know how I know that, but I’m certain of it.
“This place was built by those who came before the Veinbloods were divided. Back when there was only one power, and it wasn’t split between different bloodlines.
The Authority found it, and used it for their own purposes. ”
“How much farther do we need to go?” Mira asks quietly.
“It’s close now. Just around the next bend.”
I’m staggering by this point, overwhelmed by reliving childhood terrors that my mind had blocked for over twenty years. Sacha moves closer, one hand settling against the small of my back, the warmth of his palm burning through my clothes and anchoring me to the present.
“Stay with me.” His other hand reaches for mine. “Whatever is happening here, you’re not alone.”
“There.” I point down a passage that branches off to our left. “That way.”
We round a final corner, and the passageway opens into a circular cavern carved from black rock. The sight steals my breath away because it’s exactly how I remember it from both the dreams and the memories.
Ancient symbols cover every surface, telling stories in a language I can’t read. In the center of the chamber sits a raised platform, its surface stained with substances I absolutely do not want to get close enough to identify.
This is it. The place where Sereven and the Authority brought Veinbloods to rip away their abilities and force them into children too weak to resist.
“This is where they did it,” I whisper. “This is where they made me.”
I step closer, despite every instinct screaming at me to run.
My eyes going to the metal chains hanging from the platform’s surface.
The metal bands at the end are small, clearly created for wrists and ankles much smaller than an adult’s.
They’re stained, rust-colored, old blood, proof of the terrible things done here.
“Ellie.” Sacha’s tone holds a warning.
I ignore him, unable to stop myself moving closer. My eyes track upward from the metal bands to the chains, to where they’re embedded into the platform itself. And that’s when I see what Sacha was warning me about.
There, spread across the platform like a broken offering, lies Lisandra.