22 - Iona #3
“What a bloody shambles,” Iona mutters, then glances apologetically at Sebastian. “Perhaps we should have left her behind.”
“That much is clear,” Zephyra says. “You mustn’t let your tender heart obscure your judgement, or-”
The tunnel quakes terribly, the unstable dirt shifting as it collapses. Ariadne screams, huddling closer to Iona.
“A cave in!” Sebastian yells. “Run!”
A barrage of dirt and stones tumble down behind them, getting closer and closer. They try casting spells to slow the collapse, but the earth doesn’t listen to their pleas.
A boulder drops directly on top of Sebastian, hitting him hard on his back and knocking the wind from his lungs. He falls to his knees, crying out in pain.
“Gíinos!” Iona incants, and the earth just barely obeys, but the force of the malefician’s spell is nearly incapacitating.
She holds fast as Ariadne runs back for Sebastian, dragging him up and pulling him along, screaming as dirt rains down upon them and nearly buries them alive.
Then Zephyra goes to help too, each of them taking an arm and dragging Sebastian away, just as Iona’s counter spell breaks and the deluge of earth continues its path towards them.
Ariadne is near to hyperventilating by the time the quaking ceases and they make it to yet another fork in the tunnel. Sebastian gathers himself while his mother fusses over him, searching for any wounds that she can heal.
“Shhh…” Iona rubs Ariadne’s back and gives her space to breathe. “Think of the sun. Of the mountains in Nepal, and the cold air and wind against your face. Think of… the ocean at sunset, of swimming in the open water, of the sky, the clouds, the stars.”
Ariadne lets out a shuddering sigh, her entire body trembling violently while she leans forward with her hands braced against her knees.
“No turning back now…” Sebastian mutters, kicking a rock in frustration, until a look of realization crosses his face. “We should have located Phoebe by now. The sleeping hex hasn’t reached this place.”
“That’s one advantage, at least,” Zephyra says.
The tunnel quakes again. Ariadne lets out a guttural scream unlike anything Iona has ever heard, as if she were stretched across a torturer’s table while he flays skin from her bones.
“Go!” Zephyra grasps her son’s arm and runs down the tunnel to their right.
They follow close behind, dodging rocks and debris, until they reach another fork. Zephyra hesitates, then goes left, and Sebastian follows, but mere seconds before Iona can enter, there is a distinct pull against her back that slows her down and the tunnel’s entrance caves in.
“Ariadne!” Zephyra cries, her voice muffled by the dirt. “Iona!”
“We’re alright!” Iona calls, then asks Ariadne. “Why did you pull me back?”
“What…” Ariadne shakes her head and cannot say anything more past her panicked gasps.
“We must break through!” Sebastian calls.
They try, placing hands against the dirt and whispering desperate incantations, but the earth does not obey their spells. Mere specks of soil and rock shift the smallest amount.
“It won’t budge,” Iona relents.
“Don’t fret,” Zephyra says. “We shall continue on in search for the Kimball girl. You should take the other tunnel and find an exit.”
“Very well,” Iona says. “Be careful!”
“Of course,” Zephyra says. “Keep your wits about you, dear!”
“I cannot take this much longer,” Ariadne admits, her entire body shaking.
“We shall survive this,” Iona promises. “Take deep breaths.”
Ariadne clutches her hand as they traverse the darkness until they reach another fork, and another, until Iona loses all sense of direction.
“Phoebe!” Iona calls.
The ground opens up. They scream at the sudden cold as they’re submerged in sludge up to their waists. Ariadne clamors for her staff when it falls out of her hands and sinks into the muck, while Iona’s ball of light floats on top.
“I cannot find it,” Ariadne’s breath comes in panicked pants as she reaches farther into the mud and grasps around blindly.
“Find what?” Iona asks.
“Find… We must find…” Ariadne says, until her brow furrows.
Iona looks around, but they are alone. “Where are… Where are the others?”
“Who?” Ariadne asks.
“I could have sworn there were others,” Iona mutters. “Where’ve they gone?”
“I don’t know,” Ariadne frowns, her brow creasing in concentration.
Iona glances about again until she feels suddenly lightheaded and she almost topples over, but the woman manages to catch her.
Iona steps away, touches her forehead, and says, “I feel so strange.”
The woman stares, her expression reflecting the confusion Iona feels.
“Who are you?” the woman asks.
“Don’t you know me?” Iona asks, unsure herself if she’d ever seen the other woman before.
The woman gazes at her with penetrating, appreciative eyes. “I would certainly remember meeting one so beautiful as you.”
Iona flushes. “But you don’t?”
“I’m afraid not,” the woman says.
“Did you find what you searched for?” Iona asks.
“What do you mean?” the woman asks.
Iona bites her lip. “Um…”
“Not to worry,” she says. “We’ll make sense of this somehow.”
Iona finds comfort in the woman’s eyes, in the warmth of her voice, though she knows not why.
“We should find help,” Iona decides.
“Should we?” the woman asks.
“If we’re lost, perhaps we should.”
“Oh… Are we lost?”
Iona thinks hard, then nods slowly. “We are.”
“Oh,” she says.
“Follow me,” Iona says, turning around.
With great effort, she trudges forward in an attempt to reach the ledge and pull herself out of the pit, but she nearly trips over something lodged deep within the mud.
“Be careful,” the other voice calls from behind her.
Iona frowns, reaching down in front of her and fishing out a long stick.
“What is this?” Iona asks.
The other woman approaches and reaches for the staff. “I’ve seen this before…”
They gasp as a burst of magic creates a nearly translucent barrier around them. A rush of awareness fills Iona, until she remembers everything at once.
“Ari,” Iona reaches for her with trembling hands.
“That was very… very close,” Ariadne says.
They embrace for only a moment, their stuttering, anxiety-ridden breaths filling the empty space, until Iona pulls away. “Phoebe.”
“She must be wandering these tunnels with no memory of who she is,” Ariadne murmurs.
“Help me,” Iona says.
After a bit of struggle, Ariadne lifts her out of the pit, and she reaches down to pull Ariadne up.
“Sebastian and Zephyra may be stuck somewhere, too,” Iona says.
“We’ll find them,” Ariadne assures her.
Keeping her arm round Iona’s waist, Ariadne leads them down the tunnels, her breaths coming faster than normal as she fights to control her fear.
“Help!” cries a faint, fearful voice.
Phoebe huddles in the fetal position on the ground cradling the smallest piece of light Iona has ever seen, barely enough to cast a glow on her tear-streaked face.
“Phoebe,” Iona sighs with relief. “You mustn’t run like that again!”
“It was so dark,” Phoebe cries. “But Father… I thought he was…”
Iona whispers soothing words and helps Phoebe onto her feet, brushing dirt from her skirts. But their relief is short-lived when tremors have them running from yet another barrage of dirt and stones until the way they’d come is blocked off. Ariadne sighs angrily.
How are we meant to find Sebastian and Zephyra now? Iona asks.
They’re on their own. Ariadne gives Phoebe a withering glare. “Stay close to me, or I will put you to sleep and carry you over my shoulder.”
“Ari,” Iona says with disapproval.
“I… I won’t stray,” Phoebe stutters. “Forgive me.”
Conjuring a string of rope, as she’d done with Nenet in the desert, Iona ties their hands together just in case they lose their wits again, or Phoebe gives way to desperation.
“Come,” Iona pulls her along, holding onto Ariadne with her other hand.
The tunnel grows increasingly narrow until they are forced to walk in a line.
“I think there’s a way out!” Ariadne says. “I see light.”
Sure enough, ahead of them is a dead end marked by a thin rectangular outline in the dirt. When their earth spells still have no effect, Ariadne conjures a shovel and digs manically, though the dirt is dense and nearly impenetrable.
On the other side, there is a distinctive scratching sound, followed by a familiar bark.
“Aster!” Ariadne cries with great relief. “We’re here! Dig!”
The seconds tick by agonizingly, but eventually, Aster and Wisp’s paws break through. On the other side is a dark room with walls covered in names carved in the stone. Ariadne hands the staff to Iona so she can climb out first, offering a hand to Iona, then to Phoebe.
A mausoleum . Ariadne lights two lanterns by a set of stairs, their way out. We are below a cemetery.
We cannot dwell on that now . Iona peers back into the darkness they’d just escaped. We must find Sebastian and Zephyra.
Ariadne tenses with displeasure, taking her staff back. I don’t think I can stomach going back in there. It’s a miracle we made it out at all.
“My ancestors are buried here,” Phoebe whispers, appalled. “I shan’t allow this sacred place to be defiled by dark magic. I can think of nothing more terrible…”
Just like in the Sibylline Mountains, the abundance of magic is a pleasant trickle against Iona’s skin, the magic of Salem witches saturating the earth, a bountiful resource to be tapped.
“Help me! Please!” a male voice calls.
“Father!” Phoebe calls back and tries to run.
“No!” Iona jerks her backwards before she can elude them.
“I warned you not to run!” Ariadne yells, her patience at its limit.
“We must help him!” Phoebe sobs. “Please! Please!”
To their collective dismay, she reaches out to try and pull the staff from Ariadne’s grip, but the artifact’s magic burns her palm, making her cry out in pain.
“But…” Phoebe holds her stinging hand against her chest and stares at Iona in confusion. “You were able to-”
“You had best hold your tongue, as my tolerance for your recklessness has long been spent,” Iona snaps.