Chapter Twenty-Four
Twenty-Four
Icurled my fingers around the bound leather of the book, the smooth crisp pages worn from time.
I searched the library for the country of Amaris to find a clue to Silas’s name.
My search yielded nothing besides this journal.
Nearly identical to the one back in my room—except there were less letters and correspondence, appearing to be written by one person.
From one, there is none but from more there is the beauty that even the gods have never told before.
This is what Cecilia had told me this morning.
It was a saying that her mother used to say.
Her mother died due to the war that rages on near our borders.
I must put a stop to the war before more unnecessary bloodshed and deaths mount.
I can already feel their deaths on my hands since Father died.
I am unworthy of the crown.
The last line looped in my head. I pictured a lost man trying to figure out how to run a kingdom in the midst of turmoil.
The death of his father, his lover, and the mounting pressure from the council was too much to bear.
This Narcisa character seemed to have ulterior motives despite stating what was “best” for the people.
I slammed the journal shut, squeezing the bridge of my nose. I had hoped for clues, for places that even Silas had not checked in the hundreds of years he had been held up in the dusty castle.
“What about this book?” Ebony spouted from the top shelf, her translucent body slithering down with a book. “This one seems to tell a similar tale to the one that you are looking for.”
I flipped through pages, finding that it was nothing more than a secondary source to what I was after. “Unfortunately, no.” I slammed the book shut and squeezed the bridge of my nose.
I had hoped there was something Silas had missed. Something to point to try and solve the begotten mystery, but there was nothing. There was absolutely nothing. Any mention of Silas before the curse had either been blotted out by black stains of fragile documents or were missing.
Ebony’s ghostly fingers picked the book up and placed it up on the table. “Cheer up, Valeria. We’ll find it soon enough.”
I turned to her. “Aren’t you scared? What if I don’t do something and you disappear?”
This had been my second look into the stacks. We had started that morning in the study to find Silas’s personal collection lacking any historical context of what happened to predate his curse. Even with the historical collection, it seemed more like an impossible task.
Ebony floated down next to me, appearing to sit upon the soft cushion.
Cold wafted from her iridescent form, biting into my long-sleeve dress.
Books scattered across the floor, bits of papers rustling against my feet as I strode to the staircase to pull out another book from the spiral tower leading to the locked door.
Ebony wiped her hands onto her apron, forever stained with blood. “Of course I’m scared. Most are. We are scared of the unknown and where we all go after we die. We have existed for centuries in this castle, and we don’t know life without it.”
Which meant there was no way of telling what would happen if Silas disappeared and the castle was destroyed.
The morning sun passed through her form making it, so she was nearly transparent.
The sunlight bounced from painted glass, shedding a spotlight onto the lone piano keys.
If I did not find the way to break Silas’s curse, there would be no more leisurely playing if the castle collapsed and, with it, only sorrowful tunes would haunt us underneath the rubble.
I strode to the bookcase, fingering spines of worn titles where the faded print no longer told the titles of the books themselves.
I walked along the case, climbing the wrought-iron stairs.
Thousands of books lined the shelves, covering an array of subjects with historical references appearing older than the heavy gray lines.
A book at the top of the tower was untouched by the dust.
I touched the spine. The rough, broken cover crumbled underneath my finger. I carefully extracted the book from the shelf, the jacket disintegrating. The raised lettering was etched out of existence, but in my hands, it didn’t matter.
“Valeria.” Ebony floated up. Her chilled presence added to the goose bumps along my skin. Dark orbs gazed down at the open page where a silver key was tucked between its decaying pages. “Where do you think that goes?”
I tucked the book back into its hole, grasping the key in hand, and flew up the stairs to the lone door at the end of the long climb. The door at the top called to me, my skin itching with the memory of their invasion.
I placed the key into the lock, turning it until a hard click set into place, the cold biting into my palm. “Ebony, whatever is behind this door was hidden for a reason. Whatever happens, I need you to pull me out at the very last possible second.”
Ebony’s form flickered, black orbs scrunched together in worry. “Whatever is in there is best to be forgotten. Why don’t we wait for Silas? I am sure that he can—”
I shook my head. “No, this cannot wait, and I don’t certainly want him to know, not yet anyway.”
Ebony disappeared down the banister before reappearing with a candelabra in hand, candles aglow. “At least take this for protection. They will get close enough but not enough to harm you while holding a light.”
“I suspect you know what is behind this door, then,” I said and grasped the black stand, the soft heat burgeoning out of the cold.
She gave a half-hearted nod, wringing her hands in her apron. “It’s what all ghosts see when we die, and it’s the one thing we fear in the hereafter.”
The fact there were two doors harboring them gave me some pause as to why. What was so different from the other door I had encountered on my first journey to the west wing? Palm laid on the knob. There was only one thought—the hope in the darkness lay the key to the puzzle or a clue we had missed.
I strengthened my conviction, turning the knob and tightening my fingers around the stand. I opened the door, and the hinges creaked as if it was sighing for the first time in centuries. A fathomless darkness greeted me as did the hungry whispers bubbling coldly from inside.
Have you come to free us, child of man?
Oh, how delicious. She has met the others . . .
And live to tell, no doubt. Interesting indeed . . .
I crossed the threshold into their domain, praying Ebony would do what I needed her to do.
I held the candlelight overhead to the writhing black mass swirling above me.
Thousands of eyes narrowed on me, their eerily human-like irises shining with amusement.
Their cold presence crept up my spine, grasping my neck with their long tendrils.
Heart drumming loudly, I was sure Silas would know I had opened this very door, but I couldn’t turn back. Not when their riddle had haunted my waking nightmares, and the faint whispering of words was still etched into my skin.
“Tell me, how can I restore Silas’s name?” I asked, my voice carrying in all manner of directions.
Too easy, girl. He is trapped here as much as we are, so why would we want to free our captor—our brethren? We are all communally damned, never to see peace, writhing in madness. The question you should be asking is if the others damned beside ussss.
The black mass darted to the open door, only to shrink back at the budding beams cast by the afternoon light. It hissed and slinked to the dark corners.
My fingers shook, the flames wobbling. “Are you speaking of the person responsible for the deaths in the village? Tell me something, children of darkness.”
The black mass hissed, Ignorant child, we are not them. Mindless, mischievous creatures, they are. We are far older, seen the darkest pits and fed on the sweetest of despair. We are all, and we are one.
“Tell me what you know. They have shown me the past. Can you show me what the future holds, perhaps?” I pressed, and blood roared in my ears as a searing icy cold ripped through the warmth of the air. I swallowed down the blaring warnings. “In exchange, I’ll give you what you want.”
The mass of eyes lowered to meet me at face level, flickering to a collection of color. A tendril caressed my cheeks, retracting it quickly as the light burned the darkness away.
Solve our little riddle, and perhaps we can find common ground.
Yesss—solve our little riddle, and we’ll tell you all you need to know.
The mass darted once more across the room, blending in with the shadowy corners.
I stepped carefully around the mass, candelabra held high to find three candles remained lit.
Panic set in as I watched another candle extinguished to the harsh laughter of the shadows.
“You tell me how to free Silas, the ghost, and everyone from this curse, not some stupid riddle. I don’t have time for that! ”
Careful now, you only have so much light left. It smirked as thousands of its eyes scrunching together. But there is something we desssssire, more so than sweet despair, and it’d behoove you to take what we are offering, child.
“Then, get to the point,” I growled, patience running thin.
Candles flickered, and my palms were clammy as I shot a glance back to the door behind me to Ebony, so out of reach.
I began small, hungry to grow. We consume all, devouring everything in turning tides. I dance and make merry before I destroy all in my path—what am I?
“Too easy.” I smirked. It did not take me long to guess as I held the key. “I am a flame.”
Its eyes smiled. Excellent. What you desire is found in a labyrinth, hidden by passages of time. Blood spilled upon a name for the burden to be shared by a lover’s kiss.
Another candle extinguished, smoke rising as a warning. “You told me that you would tell me all I needed to know!”
And we have, it hissed once more, voices reverberating from its inky mass. You never asked us how. In exchange, we want a promise from you, child of man.
The last flame flickered, and I edged for the door. “Why should I promise you anything? You have not said a single thing that was useful.”
There will come a time where you need us. When the time comes and all you have learned becomes pain shall be the time you release us. A time when the agony of my brethren wreaks upon this plane—then you shall free us. Free us as repayment for your troubles.
The mass stalked toward me and kissed my ear with its icy breath. Cold tendrils wrapped around exposed flesh as my chilled hand closed around the wrought-iron banister. It slicked back, the dark trapped behind the threshold, unable to cross over the light.
“Shut it!” I screamed at Ebony.
Her ghostly hands slammed the door shut in the mass’s face.
The door bucked a few times, its hinges shaking, tossing the key aside as the shadows hissed in delight.
I scrambled for the key and slammed it into the lock, forcing the darkness out. Ebony’s form shivered as we stepped back from the door, watching—waiting for the screams to begin, but they never came.
Then, just as before, it all went quiet.