Chapter 37 – Isolde
ISOLDE
“Here it is.” Yrsa reached the dead end of the isolation corridor. “I need to find the rock that opens the door.”
I drew in a long breath. My muscles labored under Queen Inga’s weight, and my ears strained to hear what was happening down the passageway.
Vale, Caelo, Qildor, and Thantrel were far behind us, possibly still fighting.
I prayed they’d defeated their opponents and were rushing to join us with not a single fae in pursuit.
Yrsa ran her moon-pale hands over the rocks, searching. The vampires watched the way we’d come, ready to defend at any moment. Thyra stood on the other side of the queen. Some might say she appeared calm, though the throbbing vein in her neck told me that was far from the truth.
“Aha!” Yrsa’s voice rose, the sound mingling with a thud as a hidden door unlatched. Yrsa gripped the edge and pulled; the hinges groaned. “Hasn’t moved in a while. Needs oil.”
“I’ll remember to send Lady Ithamai a letter with that suggestion,” Thyra said.
Yrsa snorted. “I’d love to see the look on her face when she gets that!”
The image was satisfying, but wiped clear from my mind as the door opened all the way and stale, sulfuric air rose to meet us. My nose wrinkled. “Why does it reek?”
“A couple of the channels down here feed into luminescent hot springs inside the castle, but eventually, the streams mix. Some sort of creature makes the shimmer. The smell is from the minerals they eat.”
“Gods, hot springs sound divine right about now.” Thyra shifted the queen’s weight.
Yrsa peered into the darkness, looking for threats. “Can’t see anything threatening from here, and I can’t hear anything but water. Or smell much more than sulfur. Let’s go. Careful on the way down.”
We entered the passage, Yrsa first, then my twin, me, Inga, and the vampires.
Geiravor marked the passage with magic I could not see, but she insisted Qildor would be able to feel when the males made it our way.
That done, she shut the door behind us, and descended into the dark, toward the glittering water.
It would be beautiful if I didn’t have a hunch that the channel would bring some horrible deadly creature.
“Astril and Freyia, can you see further down the water channel?” I asked, taking the steps more slowly than usual.
“No,” Astril replied. “It appears to take a turn, blocking my view.”
“Besides the bats, do you have any idea what creatures are down here?” Thyra asked Yrsa as the stairs leveled out. We’d reached the bottom and were close enough to the underground stream to see the outline of the five boats upon the shimmering water.
Yrsa shook her head. “I only know about the bats because a few got loose and fae saw them exit by the sea. A couple got bit too. Of course they had no idea where they’d come from, but I put two and two together.
And it’s not like I can talk to others about it.
Only a few servants know of this place. The ones who have to stock emergency supplies. ”
“Should we take any of that?” I gestured to the cages off to the side that were filled with supplies.
“I don’t want to waste time breaking it open. Not when we know who could be coming after us.”
“Yrsa’s right,” Geiravor said. “The Ithamais might make a secret escape, but soldiers outside the castle will soon learn that we’re fleeing—if they don’t already know. We can’t risk it or slow down.”
I turned my attention to the boats. They fit four each and bobbed in the stream, about thirty paces wide.
With Freyia’s help, I passed Inga to Thyra.
My sister eased the queen down, and propped Inga against one end of the boat.
I hopped in after them. Astril joined the Riis sisters in another boat, and Geiravor took up the oars.
“I’m on watch.” I caught a glimmer of amusement in Freyia’s eyes as she gestured to the oars. “Better vision and faster reflexes than the two of you.”
I was strong and could fight, but my sister was better at combat.
Not by much after all my training, but any advantage counted in this scenario.
Understanding my place in all of this, I took up the oars, Thyra untied the boat, and we were off, drifting on a current that was stronger than I’d expected, making my work more that of steering than propelling.
The shimmering channel of water below lit the way enough to keep complete panic at bay. But that didn’t mean my heart wasn’t racing with each paddle of the oars.
I couldn’t release the image of Vale standing against the king’s forces with only his cabal by his side. The urge to leap from the boat and fly back overpowered me. I could help. My winter magic was powerful. And then there were the shadows . . .
I forced my heart to hear the word as strongly as my head.
We’d come here on a mission, and we’d completed it. Vale had told me to go as much for my safety as his mother’s. He needed to know that no one would torment Inga any longer. I could deliver that. I would not fail him, and he would not fail me. He never had before.
They’re probably right behind us, was my last thought before I noticed the water to the side of the boat below begin to ripple.
Stomach tightening, I peered into the black water speckled by blue and white lights. The water was still moving in an eerie way.
“Look to the side,” I whispered.
As if my words had cast a spell on the channel, the waters swirled. Slowly at first but gaining speed by the second.
“Something is rising.” Freyia’s back was taut, her weapons at the ready. She stood poised at the bow of the small boat.
Inga hadn’t stirred, and a sheen of sweat now covered her brow. Had they starved her? Or was she ill? Worry rose in my chest, only to drown with a splash to my right.
Thyra stiffened and leaned over the side. “What in the nine kingdoms is—”
A webbed hand, grotesquely wrinkled and bone-white, shot out of the water.
My sister stumbled back, and Freyia caught her with one hand and flung a dagger at the water, spearing the creature through the palm.
An ear-shattering shriek filled the cavern, and to my horror, other strangled, garbled voices joined in. The question of what things made such sounds was answered when four heads rose from the water.
Their faces were as wrinkled as their hands, their eyes fully black. Fins bobbed above the surface, hinting that these things might look like the merpeople, but hideous, rather than lovely and ethereal. Nose-less and with voids for mouths, these creatures would feature in future nightmares.
If I was still alive to have them.
Freyia reached over the side of the boat for her dagger, still embedded in the hand. We didn’t know how many more of these creatures existed or what else might be in the passage. Every weapon counted.
The vampire managed to rip the dagger from the thing’s flesh just before the creature lunged up to hiss at her.
With enviable speed and dexterity, the vampire sliced the thing across the neck.
Astril had gained a sword in the earlier skirmish, and she used that weapon to fend off two creatures that swam closer.
Perhaps they had never seen steel or perhaps they were just hungry, but despite the danger, two of the water monsters leapt out of the water, allowing Freyia to dispose of them. Blood plumed in the water as their bodies fell.
The last, however, disappeared beneath the water.
I chanced a glance overboard. Found nothing. Looking up, I caught Astril’s eye. She shook her head, but the way she held herself told me she was still waiting.
The creature leapt out of the water, mouth opened wider than before to reveal multiple rows of small sharp teeth. It landed on top of Inga.
“Away with you!” I batted the creature with my oar again and again. It reared at me, body coiled to launch, but Freyia’s dagger lodged itself in the creature’s heart.
I exhaled. “Are there more?”
“None that I can hear or smell,” Astril replied as she shoved the thing in the water. “But that’s not saying much. I can’t sense below the water.”
“What are they?” Yrsa asked.
“I’ve never seen anything like them,” Freyia said. “I wonder if they were merpeople once.”
I shuddered. The similarities were there, but I did not like to think about how merpeople could become that. Or why they’d be down here and not in the sea where they belonged.
“Keep an eye out for more of them,” Geiravor broke the horrified silence that had befallen us. “Or worse.”
The vampires simply turned and stared into the darkness. Watching. Waiting.
I pulled a faelight from my pocket, ignited it, and let the ball free. It hovered above my boat, floating along with us.
The channel grew wider. Every four strokes, we gained at least half a body length at the edges.
Not only that, but rowing became easier, as if we were going downhill.
Faster. The strange sensation was explained when the channel opened into a cavern.
Though the faelight did not illuminate the entire area, it did enough to reveal a faint, red glimmering above.
“Are the rocks shimmering? Reflecting the water?” The same luminescence as before filled the pool, but how did the light get so high?
“Where’s the exit?” Thyra asked.
“No, wait. Isolde has a point. What are those?” Yrsa craned her neck, studied above. Thanks to the extra space, the other boat had moved to float right beside ours. “Row faster.”
“You can row,” Geiravor grumbled. “I’d be happy to give up my spot.”
“Those are the bats,” Yrsa hissed, spiking my heart rate.
Carnivorous bats were native to the Autumn Court but had adapted to live in many parts of Isila. Specifically in areas of natural heat, like hot spring water. They would attack, even unprovoked. That not a single one had flown down yet meant they were sleeping.
My oar slipped in and out of the water at a faster rate, matching Geiravor’s pace as we skirted the outside of the cavern, looking for an exit.