Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
SERAFINA
The chill of the dungeon permeated the oversized shirt and pants I’d tossed on after a quick bath.
Even though Speck didn’t seem to register the cold, I drew the woolen blanket higher over his thin shoulders.
His lean body took up little space on the metal cot.
As a precaution, Thorne insisted he be strapped to the frame and locked inside the cell.
It wasn’t ideal, but Speck was in no shape to care.
At least being deeper within the earth seemed to settle him.
Sebastian rested curled up on Speck’s chest, same as he once did back in the loft at Rottbarry.
His furry body rose and fell with each of Speck’s shallow breaths.
Gone was the sunny glow that usually brightened my friend’s cheeks.
Fortunately, the sedative I’d given him had worked even though every medicine I’d tried had failed.
My poultices and elixirs only caused him to convulse and vomit.
Added to my long list of worries was Alaric’s disappearance. Thorne and I returned from Nefarr, eager to share news of Speck’s rescue and the wendigo army we’d found, only to discover the dragon missing. When questioned, Myrna said she hadn’t seen him since the night Drazen and Kronk arrived.
Worried I may have truly injured him during our so-called training session, I’d told Thorne everything. At which point he’d flown into a rage. Only for once, that anger wasn’t directed at me.
After he’d calmed, he’d headed out to search for Alaric, starting at the healing waters.
While it was Alaric’s own fault, guilt ate at me for blasting him. Who knew how his curse may have reacted to my unpredictable magic? Even now, he could be off somewhere, alone and suffering. Because of me.
What if the Puritans were right to fear all things magical?
Images of Penelope in the tunnels came to mind. In my panic, I’d blasted her much the same as I had Alaric. In response, she’d experienced a moment of clarity, humanity overpowering her ghoulish nature. Much to her detriment. Penelope’s mortality had driven her fellow ghouls into a frenzy.
I brushed Speck’s hair from his forehead. Did I dare? With my attempts to use natural methods failing, what was left but the supernatural? Watching Speck suffer, I understood how Alaric felt in that training room. Desperate to try anything to break his curse.
From the moment Speck’s parents found me lost and abandoned in the woods, he’d been the single shining light in my life.
But a sweet and inquisitive infant to my seven turns, he was a living doll.
An adorable plaything, put on this earth just for me.
I’d spent more time caring for him than even his exhausted mother.
How proud I’d been when he took his first step with the brace I’d crafted.
All these years, Speck never understood how much I’d needed him. Far more than he’d ever needed me.
How I still needed him.
Perhaps if I but grazed the surface of my magic as I had when I’d healed the cut on my arm, I could help without doing harm.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I grasped the stone at my throat and placed my hands on his chest. Closing my eyes, I delved deep into my center, calling upon my gift.
At my beckoning, that bright energy welled up inside of me, traveling down my arms to my fingertips.
Beneath my palm, a golden light flared. I sent that energy outside of myself, into Speck.
He stirred in my grip, thrashing against his bonds, crying out. No! I jerked my hands back.
The moment I released him, Speck quieted.
Breathless, I peered down, my panicked gaze traveling his body for some change. Good or bad.
Again, nothing happened. Because I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. Argh! It wasn’t as if my magic had come with instructions.
Tears burned my eyelids. “Oh, Speck. I’m so sorry. Don’t worry, I won’t give up.”
Exhausted, I slumped into the chair Myrna had kindly placed near Speck’s bedside.
I clenched my hands beneath my chin, doing the one thing I hadn’t done since the goddess had forsaken me.
“Great Hathor. If this magic you’ve instilled in me cannot help one innocent soul, then what good is it?
” The stone dug into my palm as if I could wring a solution from it by force.
“Help me save him, and I promise I’ll do anything you ask.
Just tell me what I’m supposed to do. What is it that you want from me? ”
Water trickled in the silence, Speck’s raspy breaths the only sounds. I gnashed my teeth so hard I feared they would shatter. What did I expect? An answer from the deity who’d made me her handmaiden, then left me on my own with no guidance?
Dirt and grit scraped at my eyeballs. My body ached from the trip to Nefarr, muscles burning, mind fogging. I let my chin sink lower, heavy weights tugged at my eyelids, and I allowed them to slide shut. Just for a moment. Just to rest—
A whisper slid through the haze. “Serafina.”
My head jerked upright. A voice. Did I dream it? Speck lay motionless on the cot, Sebastian curled tight against him. I was alone. The dungeon air pressed damp and cold around me.
“Serafina.” Louder this time. Clearer. My heart lurched.
“Hello?” I called out.
When no answer followed, I rose to my feet and exited Speck’s cell. Sebastian leapt from his spot on the bed, chasing after me as I closed the cell door.
“Is someone there?” I examined the corridor in both directions. Near the stairs, a dull light shone. “Myrna, is that you?”
“This way,” the voice whispered.
What sorcery was this? It wouldn’t come as a surprise to find that the dungeons were haunted. The whole castle, for that matter, given all that had happened here.
“Meow.” Sebastian raced for the stairwell as if that strange voice had dangled a fresh fish beneath his nose.
“Sebastian! Get back here, you crazy ass cat.” I scurried after the deranged feline. “You have no idea who is up there.” Or what.
After climbing several flights of stairs, I lost track of him. On the top floor, I peeked both ways into the next corridor. “Here, kitty, kitty,” I hiss-whispered. I did not want to be wandering around this place in the dark. Sebastian may have nine lives, but I only had one.
My surroundings weren’t unfamiliar, at least. This was the hallway that led to the library, I’d discovered the first time I’d dared to explore the castle.
“Serafina,” the sound whispered in my ears. I squinted, spying the dull light floating in the darkness. Beneath it, darted a small black shadow.
Damn cat. It was as if Sebastian and the disembodied voice were in cahoots.
Splayed skeletons littered my path, and I picked my way around the piles of bones. “The things I do for you,” I muttered.
The closer I drew, the more the bodies piled up. Golden metal gleamed beneath the dull solar crystals. The bodies of the fallen were dressed in armor instead of leather. The royal guard?
Just as I neared the end of the hall, the light darted low, disappearing through a massive arch with piles of rubble filling the entrance. I scanned the splintered wood and mounds of broken stone before me. I knew this place. This was where Alaric had roared at me the night I’d gone exploring.
Except he wasn’t here to stop me this time.
“Sebastian?” I called out. Did he somehow slip inside the room?
I tested the strength of a fractured column, pushing against the obstacle. Stuck. Blast it.
Would one of the swords help me hack my way in? I glanced at the closest corpse and the sword that was wrapped up in the skeletal remains of the soldier’s hand. My stomach twisted. I really didn’t want to do this.
“Merawr!” The feline cry had me jerking my hand back, a scream rising within me.
“Dang it, Sebastian!” I spun to glare at him, only to find his sleek black head poking out from a large crack in the wall. Scorch marks singed the edges. The damage must have occurred during the attack. Once more, the cat disappeared into the forbidden room.
It was a good-sized opening. Big enough for a person to slip through as well. Before the thought had barely taken shape in my mind, I hit my knees, crawling through the gap.
Once on the other side, I stood and dusted my hands, then quickly scanned the space.
“Whoa,” I said on an exhale, voice small in the vastness. “Pyrrhus’s throne room.”
It was both the most splendid and depressing thing I’d ever seen.
The massive chamber yawned open before me—grand, awe-inspiring, and ruined.
Thick columns supported the walls, several of them cracked and veined with ivy.
Cobwebs shrouded the heights where banners must once have flown.
The ceiling soared well above me, so high that peering up at it made my head spin.
My boots scraped across what was probably once a splendid red carpet—its crimson threads faded with dirt and debris.
The path ran the length of the floor to a raised dais, large enough to accommodate a shifted Draconis king.
Overhead, the domed ceiling glittered with shards of solar crystal, once a radiant kaleidoscope, now fractured and dim.
Their weakened glow struggled to mimic daylight, as if even the sun had abandoned this place.
All of this…and yet something was missing.
My gaze hunted the shadows. “Where is the throne?” Everything here screamed royalty, yet the seat of power was gone.
“Come, daughter,” that mystical voice whispered, the dim light floating into the alcove.
I climbed the steps slowly, dread pulling heavier with each rise. Every part of my being shouted at me to turn around and run, yet something wouldn’t let me. As my eyes rose above the platform, the rest of the landing came into view.
“No.” The word emerged as a choked whisper. “It can’t be.”