Chapter 9
The next morning, I found myself once again riding through Ferveem Forest. The crisp air was frigid, and fog covered the ground like a blanket, only disturbed by our horses striding along the thin path.
My fatigued body slumped in the saddle. I barely slept the night before, my mind a constant stream of concerns and wonderings.
I received no instructions or expectations for this trip other than it was to break the curse.
The unknown bit at me, gnawing on my conscience.
I’d asked the king the moment we set out, but his vague response gave me nothing, and I’d been too nervous to push for more.
It was still dark when we left, and though the sun rose over an hour ago, light still barely filtered through the thick canopy overhead.
We headed in a different direction to my last visit into the forest and were now so deep into the trees there was barely room to fit between the trunks in the single line our procession made.
The usual sounds of the forest had long since disappeared, only the horse’s hooves echoing around us.
The constant prickling under my skin was an indication of the foreboding excitement that had filled me since the moment we arrived.
A thrumming anticipation embedded so deeply, my body hummed with it.
With every sense heightened, it was like I could feel my blood pumping through my veins, feel my lungs inflate with every breath.
The farther we traveled into the darkness, the stronger it became.
It was an urge to force my horse faster, to push past the men in front and speed to an unknown destination. I had to focus on the king’s back in front of me to stop the impulse. Rhythmically counting each flick of his horse’s tail. Back and forth. Back and forth.
The guard behind me shifted, diverting my attention. Each of the men accompanying us bore a crossbow, their arrows aimed into the trees. I didn’t know what we would encounter this deep into the forest, but they must be worried about something to be so heavily armed.
I started counting again.
The gelding’s tail swished.
Our procession slowed, the guards dispersing into a clearing up ahead. I leaned forward in my saddle to get closer to whatever it was we sought. When Terym guided his horse out of the way, a large rock face came into view, sheltered by two gnarled trees leaning to form an archway over the stone.
The king helped me from my horse before he approached the natural wall. Someone had already cleared the granite surface of the wandering vines choking the tree trunks.
Terym placed his hand over the exposed stone. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and inhaled deeply, mouthing words I couldn’t hear. Then he gestured me to him, his eyes unreadable in the same way they were when we first met.
“Come here, my dear.”
My heart beat faster with each step I took toward the natural arch. Seven symbols were carved into the white and brown granite. Symbols eerily similar to the ancient language of the Gods, a language forgotten, save for the symbols carved on our temples.
A symbol of the sun sat in the center of four lines, beside it, a small circle with a strange swirl.
Then three crashing waves and a large flower inside a small triangle.
Next to them, three water droplets were grouped close together, and a collection of lines and crosses historians believed to be a kind of numbering system.
All of them surrounded a carving of a small lamp.
It was different to the others, not a part of the language but a drawing on its own.
When I reached his side, Terym gripped my hand and placed it palm down over the strange symbols. When my skin touched the stone, a rush of static flooded me, and my hair stood on end, the small strands floating around my face.
The king sucked in a sharp breath; wide eyes filled with a strange gleam. Had this not happened with the others?
I stiffened when he withdrew a knife from within his coat. A small delicate blade that was easy to conceal despite the flash of deep-blue sapphires in the hilt. He pulled my hand from the stone to meet the sharp point so fast all I could do was gasp at the sting of pain when it pierced my skin.
He raised my bleeding hand toward the stone. I recoiled, but the king held firm.
It wasn’t a symbol of three water droplets but reference to a blood sacrifice. And the brown marks weren’t a different strain in the stone but where the women before me had bled.
My blood smeared against white, and static flooded me instantly, so intensely my back bowed and my eyes rolled back.
Vivid pictures flashed behind my closed eyes.
Clashing metal. Sprayed blood. Bursts of bright light and waves of lethal shadow.
Screams of death.
I forced my eyes open with a gasp, and the visions disappeared. The stone beneath my hand rumbled, a feeling, not a sound. A loud groan followed and then the stone separated.
I jumped back in alarm, bumping into Terym’s chest, who barely noticed my presence. He stared open-mouthed at the rock parting before us. The movement and groaning ceased, leaving behind a small staircase leading deep below the earth.
The king pushed past me, and I barely stopped myself from stumbling to the ground. When he reached the open archway, he bounced backward, like he’d hit an invisible wall. He pushed forward, struggling against nothing, then let out an impatient snarl when he couldn’t pass the rock’s edge.
He stepped back, inhaling deeply while straightening his jacket. Then calculating blue eyes met mine. “It seems you must travel into the tomb alone.”
“Tomb?” My voice took a high-pitched edge. I wasn’t prepared to disturb someone’s resting place, particularly not someone so obviously magical. It would only bring me bad luck, and I didn’t need any more in my life.
Terym’s features calmed at my hesitation, eyes unreadable when he returned to my side and cupped my hands in his. “There’s nothing to fear, this is the destiny for which you were born.”
The urgency in his words confirmed my earlier suspicions—none of the other women made it this far.
While relief filled me at the realization, apprehension continued to gnaw.
I still knew far too little about the curse and what would be required of me.
The only way was forward since I couldn’t deny the king, especially not now.
He wouldn’t come this close and allow me to back out.
I had to see it through. Not for Terym, but for Eleanor.
“Bring a torch!” He demanded of his men when I gave my agreement.
He pulled a navy handkerchief from inside his vest and wrapped the cut he made on my palm.
Shuffling sounded, then a flint sparked and the clearing lightened, dancing flame flickering against the trees.
A guard handed me the torch, and I took it with shaky hands.
“W-what do I need to do?” I asked, praying to all four Gods it didn’t include opening a coffin. I didn’t have the stomach or mental fortitude for that.
“It’s all quite simple,” Terym stated, gaze intent on the cave’s entrance. “A lamp lay within the tomb, like the one drawn on the stone. All you must do is retrieve it, and I shall do the rest.”
Not sure how a lamp was supposed to break a curse, but I didn’t dare question him. I inhaled once. Twice. Willing the deep breaths to calm my nerves. Then I approached the entrance and the dark steps beyond.
I sensed a slight humming from deep within, and when I passed through the threshold and onto the top step, another bout of static pumped through me. Where the king had bounced back, unable to pass, I slipped through without resistance.
Pausing, I glanced back at the king, who sent a small smile.
Right. I could do this. Just go down the steps and grab a lamp.
Easy.
With careful feet, I started down the white granite steps. The smooth stone had clean edges, as if carved by the finest craftsman—my father would have fallen over with excitement had he seen it.
The torch’s firelight danced along walls of the same white granite, the surface carved with more of the Gods’ language, and I found my attention drawn to the symbols.
Though I didn’t understand most of them, some were familiar, having seen them in temples or my earlier schooling years before I was forced to work to support myself and my sister.
They were difficult to decipher, our history’s knowledge of the language limited to what our temples still held, but they appeared to read like a story.
The air cooled with each step I took, every breath misting in front of my face. A humming emitted from beneath my feet, growing louder the longer I descended until a loud buzz filled my ears and I couldn’t think past the sound.
A strange tingling along my skin joined the consistent sound, and still, I continued down the steps. The longer and deeper into the earth I went, the louder and stronger it became, so overwhelming I had to stop and rest against the smooth granite wall.
I wanted to turn back, leave this overstimulating place.
Too much. It was all too much.
Only the thought of Eleanor kept me going. I needed to survive this for her.
I rubbed my temples, trying to settle my mind and soothe my ears over the loud hum.
I shoved off the wall and kept going. Down and down. Until finally, the steps stopped, and I found myself in a circular room.
The white granite walls were beautifully carved and polished, surprisingly smooth against my palm. These walls were clear of the Gods’ symbols, stark white reflecting brightly against the flickering flame in my hand.
Stepping to the right, the curved wall was completely solid, and I followed it all the way around until I returned to the door I arrived through.
The lamp I needed must be within the room somewhere.
I raised the torch higher, allowing it to illuminate farther, but there was nothing other than darkness and white stone floor.
I took a step forward, then another, until the edge of the torch’s glow reached another wall.
It was inverted, curving in the opposite direction to the wall I’d just walked around.
I edged closer, and steps came into view, then I moved around them until it became clear a large pillar rose in the center of the room. Steps snaked around it, spiraling upward farther than the torch light could reach.
Nowhere to go but up.
A feeling in my chest tugged me upward, the humming vibration no longer at my feet but above me at the top of the large pillar.
I hesitantly began to climb, swallowing past the lump growing ever larger in my throat.
After several minutes, I paused, using the torch to check the distance to the bottom.
The ground was barely visible, and the steps had no rails; there would be no surviving a fall from such a height. It would end in certain death.
I counted each step, using the familiar rhythm to ground me as I climbed. The ground had long since disappeared, but the ceiling was nowhere in sight, nothing but expansive blackness and endless steps surrounded me.
One hundred, one hundred and one, one hundred and two.
The humming buzz was accompanied by a tingle along my skin, growing stronger and louder with every step I took.
Two hundred and twenty-three, two hundred and twenty-four, two hundred and twenty-five.
I went higher, and the noise and sensation became unbearable. An irrational part of my mind believed if I just made it to the top, it would all stop.
I had to make it stop.
Around the pillar, I climbed higher and higher.
Three hundred and forty-eight, three hundred and forty-nine, three hundred and fifty.
I could see the ceiling now, flat white granite encasing the tall room.
A surprising burst of energy filled me at the sight, and I sped forward.
I must be close.
I flew through the final few turns and finally reached the top.
I stopped on the last step, bent over with my hands on my knees, panting.
When my breathing calmed enough for me to focus, I lifted a shaky arm to illuminate the space.
Like the rest of the room, the top of the pillar was made of smooth white granite.
Lightheadedness and the lack of railings had me sticking to the center where another, much smaller pillar rose.
There, atop the granite, was a black lamp.
It was smaller than I expected and would easily sit in my cupped hands. Intricate engravings covered the surface, a collection of senseless swirls and shapes gathering into the outline of a galloping horse.
My heart raced as I moved closer, but it wasn’t just thrumming in my chest, my entire body throbbed to its erratic beat. It was everything I had been feeling all morning, on the ride here, on the steps down and then up. It was so intense it took monumental effort to move at all.
Then there was the secondary pulse, not coming from me but vibrating in the air.
I was mesmerized.
Floaty.
Both pulses intensified with every heavy step.
An extreme sense of loneliness washed over me, not my own but someone else’s. The longing flooding me in response was all mine—so entirely, I lurched forward, my feet moving of their own volition, and suddenly, the lamp was in my hands.
The smooth metal was surprisingly warm against my skin. The ringing in my ears hit a fever pitch, and the throbbing in my veins reached a crescendo.
Then everything went black.