Chapter 19
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule nineteen: Stop thinking you are a Disney princess – the creepy things in the dark (probably) don’t want to cuddle.
Chaos unfolds around me.
I’m fairly certain the Council’s castle has never held a fire drill. Well-dressed courtiers and servants run from the smoke-filled halls. It takes no effort to slip into the throng of fearful faces. The stampede is only momentarily interrupted by men in purple cloaks rushing toward the flames.
Council mages.
I recognize them, since a few days ago, Leon made me sit in a corridor, while he entered a room to speak with them about urgent and private business.
Keeping my head down, I stay hidden in the masses. My pulse races from the knowledge that Leon is probably already looking for me. I’m assuming the mages will be able to put out the fire without issue.
I have to hurry.
An explosion sounds behind us, and I belatedly remember that the potion lab is near the library. I purse my lips. Maybe those bottles weren’t as useless as I thought. I can only hope that magical flames are harder to put out than the ones I started.
An elbow hits me in the gut, and I blow out a puff of air as a man shoves past me.
He’s trying to push his way to the front of the crowd.
When he reaches out to grab a woman by the hair, I dart forward, trip him, and ‘accidentally’ kick him in the temple.
The people behind me mindlessly trample him.
Oops. Thank goodness he didn’t panic.
The herd is almost at the main entryway when I slip down another familiar corridor. It takes another few minutes before I retrace Lilanthara’s steps and find the hidden door. Not letting myself think about the small space, I press on the hidden lever and slip into the darkness.
Immediately, the sounds of chaos reduce to barely a whisper. My feet scuff against the top step as I carefully pull out the orb I stole a few hallways down. The light is even fainter than when Nymara was holding it. Still, it’s enough that I can see the edges of the steps if I hold it low.
I descend as fast as I can without risking a broken ankle.
Nymara insisted that there was nothing down here for me.
While I initially believed her, I’ve since come to the realization that she is quite possibly insane.
So, I probably shouldn’t be putting much stock in her opinions.
Besides, she warned me that we weren’t friends.
Maybe she was trying to keep me away from Irena this entire time.
The thought stirs a small pang of sadness inside me. I shove it down.
By the time I reach the bottom of the stairs and pass through the old wooden door, all sounds from above are gone.
I strain to hear the slightest noise.
You’d think a castle would have rats. But there’s not even a scratching or scuffing that would indicate I’m anything other than completely alone.
My measured breaths sound glaringly loud, marking me as a beacon in the darkness.
The deeper I go, the more the inky void seems to feel alive, pressing against me. Even the orb light looks dimmer, like it’s being swallowed by the shadows.
I push forward, ignoring how vulnerable I feel.
This time, I don’t jump when there’s a slight tug on my hand, followed by a breathy hint of static. It feels like someone just walked by and whispered in my ear. My hair even blows a bit, as if caught on the breeze left in their wake.
The hairs on my neck stand on end. Every horror movie I’ve ever watched tells me I need to turn around now.
But there’s already a monster hunting me in that direction.
Swallowing, I follow the tug.
It’s easy enough to recognize the cell doors, and I shudder at the memory of getting far too acquainted with them. I pass by countless cells without feeling a thing.
Still, I’m not dissuaded. I start opening doors.
Disappointingly, the first two are empty stone rooms. The next is filled with objects covered in old white sheets, and the idea of walking around in there has me shutting the door and moving on.
No thanks.
I have every confidence that if I go poking around in that room, one of those sheets will move.
It doesn’t matter how many years I’ve spent hunting broken souls. Jump scares are still off limits.
I’m relieved when something tugs on my hand again, pulling me further into the hall. This time, the accompanying whispered static is louder.
The sound tickles something in the back of my mind. I’ve heard this before.
Recognition hits me like a ton of bricks.
Ghosts.
It’s the sound that ghosts make when they speak.
Could this be where Need is hiding the spirits? That’s not what I was hoping to find down here, but still, there’s no turning back now. I still have hours to go before darkness falls.
The tugging on my hand grows more insistent, and I follow it to a smaller, inconspicuous-looking door. It isn’t locked.
The static grows louder and more excited when I touch the latch. This is the place.
Opening the door, I find yet another staircase. This one is even narrower and spirals down further than my light can reach. Instantly, my body locks up.
Absolutely not. Zero stars. I’ll take the room with the jump scares instead.
The tugging comes again, followed by the thud of a door slamming open, somewhere in the distance.
My blood turns to ice.
Leon’s voice echoes through the gloom, “Little mouse, little mouse, come out, come out wherever you are.”
Cassandra’s memory kicks in, her urgency pushing my legs to move. ‘Get on the stairs! Shut the door, but keep the handle turned so it doesn’t make a sound. Go, faster! Two at a time! Move it!’
It turns out that spending countless hours obeying the disembodied orders of your past life has far-reaching benefits.
Do I want to go down the stairs?
No.
But my body jumps into action, following Cassandra’s orders.
I sprint down the steps, my feet almost bouncing as they hit the stone to minimize the sound. The whispers grow louder the further down I go. I don’t slow my pace, worried my fear paralysis will kick in if I do.
The steps end abruptly, but I don’t have time to slow my momentum. I barrel into another closed door and drop the orb.
My stomach plummets, and I barely catch it before it shatters.
The whispered static is reverberating now, bouncing around the small space. The volume has reached a crescendo, loud enough to mask the sound of my breathing.
It’s excited, urging me to continue.
The slight tug comes again, and a strange sense of familiarity accompanies it. Something almost like nostalgia washes over me.
Except I know that whatever I’m missing isn’t lost, it’s right there, in the next room.
I open the door.
It’s a large antechamber, and the dim light from the orb illuminates the space just enough that I spot a black hole in the center of the room. The tug comes again, and I gladly step inside.
That’s when I realize I’ve fucked up.
Because of course, there’s a soft click as the door shuts behind me. Just as I whirl around to open it, my light goes out.
I freeze, smothered by the darkness.
Nope, no thanks.
I tug at the latch, but it won’t budge.
If my life is a choose-your-own-adventure novel, I would very much like to go back and try again.
Accepting the door isn’t going to open, I blindly tie my borrowed skirts around the orb into a makeshift pouch. Hopefully, it will power back on just as soon as I find a way out of here.
In the meantime, I’d very much prefer to have my hands free.
The tug on my hand comes again, even more insistent. But this time, my rare survival instincts must kick in, because I don’t immediately follow.
Something down here has done a great job of luring me into a deep, dark corner.
Chills creep down my spine as I’m struck by how similar this feels to when the bond between Leon and me almost drowned me. And here I am, blindly following again.
A smart person would probably yell ‘stranger danger’ and run the other way.
Is this what happens when you grow up watching too many Disney princess movies? You end up programmed to see monsters and think ‘ouuu squishy!’
Or am I just an idiot?
I purse my lips. Option B checks out.
Still, I’m the idiot who’s trapped down here.
Resigned, I sigh. There’s no way I’m walking toward the dark hole in pitch blackness. While I haven’t tried to use my Reaper powers in case Need might be watching, I’m out of better options.
Reaching within myself, I call on the magic, hoping the collar only works against Creator powers. Almost instantly, silvery threads wind around my hands.
The glowing threads provide enough light to see ahead, but I still can’t make out what’s inside the hole.
Whispering static urges me forward, and I feel my dread rising.
Nothing good can come from this.
A final scan of the room confirms there are no other doors or items that might offer an alternate solution.
I hate my life.
Dragging my feet, I gingerly approach the hole.
It’s large, at least six feet in diameter, and looks like a well carved into the stone floor.
I only stop once I’ve reached the edge.
All the whispering stops.
Eerie silence fills the void.
Chills break out over my arms, but I peer down into the gloom, regardless.
A scream gets caught in my throat.
The hole is filled with water, but my Reaper threads illuminate the depths, revealing exactly what’s inside.
Bodies.
Hundreds of them.
They’re floating, and I can’t look away from their lifeless, whitewashed eyes. They look perfectly preserved in death.
My body gives an involuntary shudder. Whatever is calling me is in the water.
Yup, that settles it. This is one hundred percent a trap. The water is probably a carnivorous predator that uses bodies to lure people to their doom.
Okay, that might be a stretch, but still, there’s no way I’m getting in the water.
Hard pass.
Just as I decide to step away, something cold and wet clamps around my ankle.
Before I can even scream, I’m yanked under the water.