Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
EMORY
I was falling. Again. And once again, I blamed the bone collector. Was this technically his fault? No. But I was angry and needed someone to direct that anger toward. So Maverick it was. In truth, I still hadn’t figured out exactly why I was angry at him. It was a buried wound, one I didn’t want to unearth right now.
Thankfully, this fall wasn’t as long as the previous one.
My body hit the hard, rough ground with a force that rattled my teeth.
“Watch out!” Maverick yelled from somewhere beside me, and just as I blinked, my vision clearing, the stone from above came crashing down over us.
I quickly rolled, the stone pummeling into the ground, blasting apart into thousands of little pieces that rained over us. Dust filled the space, thick and suffocating.
I pulled my tunic up, but the dust still managed to infiltrate my nose, ears, mouth, stinging my eyes and burning my throat.
I tried to make out the forms of the others through the thick dust. “Driscoll?” I asked. “Maverick? ”
“I’m here,” Maverick said.
“Present,” Driscoll added glumly. “Oh, and the wolf who maybe, probably, wants to kill us is here too.”
The dust settled over the black shimmery ground, the wolf’s slumped form laying there in the middle of the space. Stones had fallen over it, knocking it unconscious. I scrambled to the creature and lifted the stones off its legs and side.
“What are you doing?” Driscoll asked. “Maybe we don’t help the wolf that tried to eat us.”
“Maybe it’s changed,” I said over my shoulder, petting its matted hair.
“Or maybe you’re delusional,” Driscoll shot back.
“Oh, she’s definitely delusional,” Maverick said.
I finished lifting the rocks off the wolf, then slumped back against the wall, peering up to see the hole we’d fallen through, too high to reach. My magic would be no use, so depleted after how much of it I’d used over the last day.
Driscoll and Maverick sat with their backs against the opposite wall.
“I don’t suppose you can grow a vine to get us out of here?” I asked.
“No.” Driscoll gave me a pointed look. “I’m afraid I used up the last of my magic trying to save your two sorry asses.”
“Right.” I tugged at the ends of my hair. “So we wait until our magic strengthens again, and then we can escape.”
“Or maybe it won’t return.” Maverick spread out his arms. “We have no idea what this place might do to our powers. Look what it did to everything else here.”
I tugged at the scarf around my neck, not wanting to think about being stuck here without my magic. I raised my chin, refusing to give in to these negative thoughts. “We don’t know anything for sure, and without evidence to corroborate that glum theory, we will just have to wait and see.”
Maverick's head thumped against the wall, but for once, he didn’t argue.
“What do you guys think happened here?” Driscoll gestured to the world above us. “I mean, we were never taught about this in school. ”
I snorted, thinking about my self-made education. “We weren’t taught a lot of things in school.”
“That’s because the early schooling for the masses isn’t intended to be specific,” Maverick said, an edge to his voice. “You learn basic history, how to use your magic, and then you go your specialized route when you’re done.”
“I know how it works,” I snapped, a bitterness coating my words.
I remembered all too well when I’d finished my basic schooling after ten years. Everyone started school at eight years old and finished when they turned eighteen. In that time, you lived with your parents, went to the local school that was free for all to attend. After that, it was off to either apprenticeships or an academy.
There were many scattered throughout Arathia: Academy of Healers, Academy of Scientists & Thinkers, Academy of Engineers & Architecture. Academies were expensive to attend, and most could only afford to go if they were part of the upperclass, children of royals, council members, ambassadors, advisors, high-ranking military officials. My father had been the general of the Fyriad Army and had enough saved to send me to an academy. He’d promised I could go to the Academy of Scholars & Historians. Then he’d died on assignment and my mother panicked.
I’d turned eighteen and hoped she would entertain the idea of me applying to the Academy of Scholars & Historians. All those hopes had been dashed when it became clear she intended no such thing. I was sent to an academy, just not the one I wanted. She forced me into the Academy of Ladies. Where I stayed for four soul-sucking years, learning how to sew, how to run a household, how to plan a dinner party, and my personal favorite, how to please your husband. The academy even made us matches. It was a guarantee that came with the schooling. They were the ones that had arranged the marriage between me and Gregory.
“I hated school,” Driscoll said, and I realized he and Maverick had been talking this entire time. “Failed out after a year at the Academy of Scientists & Thinkers, much to my parents’ dismay. Disappointed them. Disappointed myself. Disappointed everyone, really.” He shrugged a shoulder. “And now it’s all led to this. My death in some strange land.”
“We’re not going to die,” Maverick and I both said at the same time .
Our gazes met, and I quickly looked away. His white shirt had lost a few buttons, now opened farther, revealing more of his muscled chest, while his suspenders hung at his sides, gray pants tight and hugging his thighs.
I cleared my throat and caught Driscoll’s eye as he cocked an eyebrow and smirked. I returned that little smirk with a glare, but it didn’t seem to deter him from waggling his brows.
I glanced around the space, hoping he’d knock it off before Maverick noticed. I stood, wincing at the aches and pains shooting through my legs. I’d run more in the last day than I had in my entire life, and my body was paying for it.
The space was dark and dank, the smell of moss and death permeating the air. Dust covered the rough stone, and this place seemed to stretch on and on, darkness swelling over everything so I couldn’t see much beyond where we sat.
My instinct was to explore, but if this place was like the rest of the Deadlands, I wasn’t sure that would be smart. I had no idea what I’d encounter underground.
My gaze caught on a heavy circular stone that lay on the floor, fractured into pieces. It lay in front of an entrance to a circular nook. The stone had clearly been covering the nook, and I walked over to it, crouching down and realizing it was embedded with iron. The metal twisted through the rock like thick veins. Iron was typically used in prisons to dull elemental powers so prisoners couldn’t use their magic to escape. I squinted at the stone, running my hand over its ridges and bumps.
“This is likely a crypt,” Maverick said from behind me, and I turned, crossing my arms.
“Well, all the bones and skeletons did kind of give that away.” I pointed to one of the skeletal figures that Driscoll had rested his head on.
His eyes slowly traveled to the skeleton, and he jumped. “Oh, bloody earth. Why did no one tell me I was cuddling with actual bones?”
Maverick shrugged. “Some people are into that.”
“Well, not me. I haven’t gotten that desperate. Yet.” He looked over at the skeleton, its mouth gaping wide open. “Although I haven’t had much luck finding anyone else to love me. Maybe this is the best I can do.”
“At least the bones won’t talk back.” I shot a withering look Maverick’s way. “So other than the dead people everywhere, what tipped you off that this might be a crypt?”
He tsked, taking a step toward me. “There could be skeletons for any number of reasons.” He ticked off his fingers. “A cave-in, a plague, some kind of mass murder. You can’t just make assumptions.”
“Except my assumption is right,” I said, my annoyance turning sharp and spindly in my chest. “It is a crypt.”
Maverick gritted his teeth together. “Yes, but not for the reasons you assumed.”
“Then what are those reasons?” I gritted back. Spirits below. Had he always been so argumentative?
He pointed at the nooks dug into the walls, all of them closed, covered by big, thick stones. “Those of the Old World believed that it was important to be as close to Galaysia as possible after one died in order for the soul to travel there. So they buried their loved ones far under the earth. As far as they could go.” He spread out his arms. “They’d often make these crypts underneath important temples and religious monuments dedicated to the Seven Spirits.”
I hadn’t known that. Had never come across it anywhere in my readings. I hated the way it made me feel inferior to him, even though I’d come to the same conclusion about what this place must be. But he was right: I’d missed facts, the evidence. Jumped to a conclusion too quickly.
“So what do you make of this?” I gestured to the stone on the ground. “Why go to such elaborate measures to bury someone in here with iron?” I traced one of the iron veins.
“Maybe they were buried alive,” Driscoll said. “Closed in and trapped.”
I chewed at the inside of my cheek, then stepped toward the nook. Before I could enter, Maverick grabbed my arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”
His hand was warm and firm. Just days ago, if someone would have told me I’d be in a crypt from the Old World with Maverick Von Lucas, I probably would’ve fainted. Then woken up and fainted again. I’d spent so long dreaming of the day I’d get to talk to him, to pepper him with questions, to be treated as his equal. Then I’d actually met him, and everything changed between us. My dreams shattered. That seemed to be a recurring theme in my life.
I wrenched my arm from his. “Oh, you know, I just thought I’d close myself in there. Maybe then I’ll finally get some peace and quiet.”
Driscoll snorted. “Ooooh... burn.” He’d moved away from the bones and now sat by the wolf. Still unconscious. Or possibly dead. I hadn’t checked its pulse. He reached out a tentative hand and stroked its head, then glanced up at us. “I already made the frost joke. Now I make a burn joke and still nothing from you two?” He shook his head, mumbling what sounded like insults, but I couldn’t be sure.
Maverick pointed to the crypt. “You can’t just waltz in there and disturb a historical site.”
“Well I would fly, but I’m missing essential body parts for that to work.”
“Can you be serious for one moment?” His stubbled jaw worked back and forth.
I leaned forward. “I think you’re serious enough for the both of us.”
I moved to step forward and he shot out an arm to block me. “You might disturb important evidence that could help us better understand who was trapped in here. Step on a bone or cause the entire structure to collapse. We need light, we need proper tools?—”
“Oh, please.” I threw up my arms. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the Deadlands. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If we escape this place, we’re not coming back. So you can get over your haughty attitude and either help me or leave me alone.”
His mouth dropped open. “It’s not haughty. There are procedures in place for a reason.”
I ducked under his arm and into the nook. “And have you always followed those procedures? Mr. Bone Collector?”
His jaw locked. “That was different.”
“Right. Just you playing pretend.” I whirled, not realizing how close he was, our noses now inches apart. “It sounds like you’re okay with exceptions, but only when they come to you. ”
A fire danced in his eyes. “You are so...”
“I can’t tell if you guys are turned on or angry, but this is actually getting pretty entertaining,” Driscoll said from behind us.
I quickly stepped back. “You’re welcome to join me in here, unless you’re afraid of breaking too many rules.”
“I’m not letting you in there by yourself,” he said. “I don’t trust you.”
Like he hadn’t spent years trusting me. When I was the white rabbit. Now that he knew my true identity, he wanted nothing to do with me. That was the crux of it. That was what was bothering me.
I made a face at him and turned to examine the area, but it was too dark to see anything. “Do you have enough magic to light this space?” I asked.
I expected him to argue since that was all he seemed to know how to do, but instead a small fire lit his palm, and the dim glow casting over the nook.
I sucked in a sharp breath. It hadn’t just been the door threaded with iron. It was the walls, the ceiling, the floor under our feet. Iron spikes jutted from every inch. Iron spikes that I’d been just about to step onto. Maverick's magic faltered, and I pushed him out of the nook.
He scowled.
“You have to stay out there so your magic doesn’t weaken. I’ll look around and report back.” He was already opening his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. “Do you want answers about what this is or not?”
His brows furrowed, but he stepped far back, holding out his firelight so I could see.
“What do you notice?” he asked. “Even down to the smallest detail.”
“Well, other than the giant spikes...” I glanced around. “And dust.”
I swiped a finger over the ground, that same black dust that covered the land here too. I cocked my head. And it looked like another color of dust was mixed in, but it was so dim, even with Maverick’s magic, that it was hard to tell. This dust. Something about it was bothering me, but I couldn’t figure out what.
“So someone was put in here alive. Most likely. Or they were dead and didn’t deserve a proper burial? But then, why even go through the trouble of the iron and the stone door?” Maverick murmured, his question clearly rhetorical. “That would mean this was a dangerous elemental, then. Very dangerous from the lengths gone to entrap this person.”
I stood and looked at the edges of the nook. My gaze went to the round stone. “I bet if we lifted this stone, it would be a perfect fit, and look at the serrated edges. It’s like a dagger or knife was used to cut it open.”
Maverick shook his head. “What kind of dagger could cut through iron and stone? What kind of weapon could be that powerful? More importantly, what escaped from here?” He looked at the other closed nooks, their stones still in place. “And what lay in the rest of these nooks?”
I had no idea. The more I studied this crypt, the less I understood anything about it.
“Uh, guys?”
We both whirled to see Driscoll standing there, his mouth gone slack, his face ashen. He swallowed. “I might know who was trapped here. And I think maybe it’s time I tell you.”