Chapter 43 – Vale
VALE
Lit up like a living faelight, Xillia the pixie led the way through the dark, wide tunnels.
Every so often the twins asked if she was fine to continue flying, or if Xillia’s wings needed to warm. The pixie brushed off their every worry, claiming the light she emitted warmed her, which I thought was lucky. Despite the lack of wind, the cold inside the mountain only deepened.
Thyra’s hunch might be right. The Scepter could lurk down here, a cold heart within the rock. I brushed close to my mate and shot her a glance to make sure she was well. She smiled smally back at me, her mind occupied.
Much to Thyra’s annoyance, Thantrel had insisted on walking beside his mate, as I did with Neve.
Thyra only allowed it with the stipulation that he remained quiet.
The sisters needed to concentrate on the constant warming of their Hallows and the rare whispers that Thyra heard. Neve, too, twice now.
“Stop,” Astril, the eldest vampire sister, spoke up from behind. “Something is coming.”
“Many things,” Livia corrected. “Sprinting our way.”
Thantrel pulled his sword at the same time I did, and our mates’ magic flared. I cocked my head. As we’d trained often during our travels and with the rebels, I recognized what my mate’s magic felt like. Knew it almost as well as my own. But Neve’s power felt different here. Weaker?
I felt my own powers, and noticed the same, a faint weakness. Was it the cold? The night of no rest and hard travel?
The question materialized right as the thing that had been running for us appeared from the darkness.
“Direwolf!” I hissed.
“And pups!” Neve yelped.
The mother ran in front, and at the sight of us snapped her jaws. I pulled Neve to the side, protecting her body with mine. Thantrel did the same for Thyra, and Xillia pinned her small body to the top of the tunnel.
As the mother direwolf approached, I expected her to lunge at me or Thantrel. I held Skelda, ready to defend. Others behind us had drawn their blades too.
The scent of wolf filled my nostrils as the wolves came closer, closer, closer . . .
The mother ran between Thantrel and me, not bothering to snap her jaws again. Not even as she wove through the others, who appeared as shocked as we were. Her pups followed, their attention never wavering from ahead.
I blinked. It was not natural for direwolves to act that way.
“What was that?” Neve asked, breathing hard. “I thought they’d attack!”
“As did I,” I admitted.
“The pups looked terrified,” Freyia whispered. “And the mother’s heart rate was so fast. Something might be chasing them.”
“We proceed with extreme caution.” I twisted to catch Caelo’s eye. “Watch your back.”
My best friend was taking up the rear with Livia and Ulfiel.
Caelo nodded. “There can’t be much food beneath this rock, and we’re fresh meat.”
In general, the wild mountains had that problem.
The animal species of Winter’s Realm were acclimated to the climate, and those that ate plants usually ate wood or stole from the greenhouses fae used.
Some remote villages and towns constructed greenhouses for wildlife to supplement their food.
But the mountains had fewer fae and less food than other areas, making it harder for wildlife to survive.
We continued on, dragging our fingertips along the uneven, frozen walls and more alert than before.
For a long while, nothing of note happened.
Still, there were no turn offs. No other creatures, save for an occasional rat.
Sometimes I’d hear a skittering noise but see nothing.
More rats running through the tunnels, I assumed. Vermin survived everywhere.
We’d gone another half an hour when, finally, the wall fell away from my touch. We’d walked into an opening of sorts.
“Up Xillia,” Thyra instructed.
The pixie soared above, her light illuminating the high ceiling and tunnels far above our heads. At eye level, another dozen tunnels presented themselves. We weren’t at a simple turnoff but a juncture of many halls of stone.
“So many options,” Thyra mused. “Do you see anything in the tunnels up there, Xillia? Anything to help us choose? A sign or runes?”
“Nothing!” the pixie called, floating around a circular room. “Only lots of cobwebs and dirt!”
“Nothing obvious down here either,” Livia said, having already done a quick round. “I hear no sounds of creatures, big or small.”
“Me either,” her sister, Astril, assured the rest.
Fae hearing was keen, but vampire hearing was the best in the nine kingdoms. If they heard nothing, then nothing lurked nearby.
“No whispers either.” Thyra’s lips tightened with annoyance.
“By feel it is, then.” Neve patted her sword and began her own circle. With one hand wrapped around the Fr?r Crown, Thyra went in the opposite direction.
Thantrel fell into step behind Thyra, whereas I followed my mate closely, attention darting above often. I could not be certain that the vampires could hear deep in the tunnels above, and it would be all too easy for a monster, or many monsters, to drop on our heads.
Neve was the first to stop, to cock her head. Though when Thyra joined her not a minute later, she did the same.
“Hear it?” Neve said.
“I do,” Thyra agreed. “It has to be coming from this tunnel.”
“You’re sure?” Thantrel’s eyebrows knitted together.
“Not entirely, but it feels right.” Thyra gestured to the other tunnels. “I heard nothing inside the other tunnels, and the Crown has not cooled, so I think this is it.”
“As this is our first turn off since entering, let’s mark it,” Luccan took his dagger and sliced the bottom of his red tunic. “In case we somehow get turned around and end up here again, then we’ll know not to bother.”
With that bit of cloth secured, we entered the passage.
“Tighter in here,” Ulfiel muttered. “Go in front of me, Sir Caelo.”
He was right. This tunnel cut the space by more than half. The Falk twins had converged together, leaving Thantrel and me to follow in their footsteps.
“That means we’re heading deeper into the mountain?” Luccan asked.
“Not necessarily.” I couldn’t fault him for not knowing, never having been in a dwarven kingdom. Until recently, I’d known little of them myself.
“Oh! The sword got hot!” Neve gasped. “Thyra?”
“The Crown too.” Thyra said excitedly. “I think we’re getting close.”
In the end, close seemed to be relative. We walked another half an hour before the twins shared an excited look that raised the hairs on my arms.
“There are the whispers again, and they’re stronger now. We’re closing in,” Thyra said.
“Actually, I think we’re there.” Neve pointed ahead with her sword’s tip. “Do you see that light?”
I squinted and caught what she referred to. A pinprick of light shone in the darkness ahead.
We made our way forward, stopping only when we stood on a wide ledge looking into a vast cavern.
Above, like in other parts of the mountain, tunnels riddled the rock, but more eye-catching were the multitude of sunshafts and an array of mirrors that caught the incoming light.
There were so many, I suspected that the mirrors caught light on all hours of the day.
What they illuminated became apparent when I looked down.
“A Drassil!” Thyra gaped. “Inside a mountain! How does it survive?”
I had that question too. For many turns, our Drassils had required an influx of magic from powerful fae to survive.
Who tended this one? The fae of Eygin? Unlikely, given the boarded-up mine door and the long walk here.
And even if it got a magical boost from the network that linked the holy trees, it was so far from the others. It had to receive less power than trees in the heart of the kingdom. Although from our vantage, high above and somewhat far away, the tree looked quite healthy.
The leaves were amethyst in color, not falling or with blackened veins. The limbs did not droop, and the bark glimmered, darker than other holy trees, but nothing that set off alarm bells.
“Let’s go down,” Neve said.
“Wait,” Astril held up a hand. “There’s a smell in here though, is there not? A rot?” The vampire’s nostrils flared.
Her sisters followed suit, leading me to do the same. Before I caught the scent—sweet and cloying but off-putting—Luccan nodded.
“Death,” he said with surety. Of all the fae here, he was the only one I suspected could rival a vampire’s sense of smell. “Maybe those wolves found something to eat and left meat on the bones?”
“Sounds reasonable to me,” Neve piped up. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the tree. “Or other wolves. We need to be on the lookout, right?”
“Agreed. Let’s go down,” Thyra added.
We could have flown down, but the air here was still cold enough to make that uncomfortable, even for the fae turned vampires, and there were stairs. Old, crumbling steps, but steps all the same.
Two by two, we descended the staircase. I watched Neve’s every step and kept my hand on Skelda’s hilt, not sure I trusted this place.
The space may be deserted and peaceful in appearance, but that worrying scent lingered in the air.
It set my teeth on edge, and while Neve and Thyra were quick to dismiss it in hopes of finding the Ice Scepter, I remained alert.
“Skies, if only we’d found a tunnel closer to the bottom,” Thyra complained when we were halfway to the bottom. “This is—ahhhhh!”
She’d been walking along the edge and the step she’d landed on gave way beneath her boot. The rebel leader toppled, but Thantrel and I caught her before she could fall far. Pressed against the wall, Neve’s eyes went wide.
“Are you well, sister?”
“Fine,” Thyra cleared her throat, and a soft blush arose in her cheeks. I’d let my mate’s twin go when it was clear Thantrel had her. His hands remained supporting her. “Thank you, Thantrel.”
“I’ll always catch you,” he replied, his tone serious yet also, somehow, flirtatious. Something only Than could manage, I supposed.
“This is no time to succumb to Than’s charms, Thyra,” Luccan teased.
She rolled her shoulders back. The old Thyra returned. “Sheathe your weapons. We don’t want anyone accidentally hurting themselves if the stairs give out again. From here on out, we go one at a time.”
We descended the rest of the way in single file, and I swore Thantrel had a bit more bounce in his step as he trailed right behind Thyra. And for her part, the raven-haired Falk looked back once, stared right up at him before catching herself and resuming her mission.
As we reached the bottom, Neve turned, caught my eye, and winked. She’d noticed the interaction too. I took her hand in mine and pulled her close, savoring her scent of smokey vanilla.
“If you find it, be careful, Neve.”
We knew about the Ice Scepter’s power, or at least what the previous Falk monarchs told us. I knew from experience that might not be the entire truth. With fae, and particularly royals, you could count on many omissions.
“I will.” She kissed me before turning away.
Her sister waited for her with arms crossed.
“I didn’t want to investigate without you,” Thyra said when Neve arched her brow. “We found this together.”
Neve smiled at the inclusion, at their growing bond. “Let’s take a look at this tree.”