Chapter 42 #2
They had headed west when they left Vasso’s manor. It was hard for her to determine how far they’d traveled without her map; she would have to estimate it, if a doorway was truly there.
Ophelia slowed, turning at a stone marker. Above them, the three moons of Eraphon were cresting the trees, drenching the branches in a pale radiance.
“We’re here,” Ophelia said with a grin. Her blond-white hair was wild about her, but the blue of her eyes almost glowed in the dark.
Vasso dismounted, leaving Sera to shudder at the absence of his warmth.
“I can get down on my own.” She swatted his hands away.
“Stubborn.” He shrugged and left her to her own devices.
Sera swung her leg over Ponic’s rump, miscalculating the clearance she needed, and the back of her knee caught the edge of the saddle. Somehow, she saved herself from landing on her ass in the dirt. Thankfully, Vasso wasn’t watching.
“Is this…”
“A pile of rocks that used to be a castle? Yes.” Vasso crossed his arms.
Ophelia was already far in the ruins. The dim glow of the light above her stood out like a beacon. At least she wouldn’t be lost easily.
“We’re on the border of the Emerald Glade, aren’t we?”
He raised a brow at her. “We’re close. You’re informed for a Solarni witch. At least more than I’d expected.”
“Ophelia was once a Solarni witch. Are you calling her dim?”
Vasso put his hands on his hips and gave her an incredulous look. She decided to put her attention elsewhere.
Ancient stone slabs emerged from the ground, and on them the rough shape of a building.
Sera recognized where the round turrets once were.
Following the crumbling stone walls, she could make out where the gate had been.
Divots from centuries of wagon wheels that led into the dilapidated castle were now filled with soft grass.
Sera turned to Vasso and halted.
The moons’ rays washed over him. It looked like he’d been born from their essence. As if the largest one, Nubenia, had floated him down on one of her moonbeams as a gift to Eraphon. Vasso’s gaze met hers, and he smirked. “Like what you see?”
“You’re just… so pale.”
Vasso scoffed.
“Are those rock guardians?”
Erected at each corner, bodies of giant beasts with scales and claws wrapped the wall in stone limbs. Most of their vicious heads had crumbled away as the rest of the castle had. But Sera remembered seeing their snarling reptilian faces in tomes throughout the archives.
The rock guardians alone dated this castle back five thousand years. Possibly older.
“Aah, the famed beasts of Shadow. They say when the goddess awakens, the guardians will come back to life.” He placed his hands in his pockets, taking the stone beasts in.
“That’s ridiculous. Nothing could live inside stone.”
Vasso shrugged, unbothered by the looming presence of the castle.
“If I had to guess,” he started in his mocking tone, “I bet your Citadel’s libraries are probably lacking in the ancient lore of our peoples.
Not only about the war, but of the traditions themselves.
You probably don’t even know what Shadow’s gates look like. ”
“You do?”
“I’ve seen them from afar. They are connected to Gehenna, after all.”
“Could you—I mean, do you have a painting of them? Back in your manor?” To see the gates of the afterlife would be a dream. He was right: They had no renditions of the gates listed in the archives. At least from what Sera could gather.
“And what would you give me if I did?” That smirk was once again plastered on his face, making his jaw sharper and his features more devious.
“Nothing,” she gritted. “No more bargains.” Sera huffed and walked through the arched entry, trying to make out the rest of the buildings and their condition in the glow of Ophelia’s mage light on the other side of the castle. The oracle was pacing back and forth, searching for something.
“Watch your step.” Vasso pointed out a barely visible crack in the foundation of the stone staircase.
“I’m perfectly capable of watching where I’m going.”
“You could really be more pleasant, you know that?” Vasso said.
Sera hopped to the top of the crumbling staircase just to prove her point. “Just because you’re teaching me how to use my magic doesn’t mean I have to be pleasant to you.”
“I’d sure like to meet the person who taught you manners,” Vasso grumbled and climbed the steps behind her.
And wouldn’t that be a recipe for disaster? Her mother prying into his mind, and Vasso, no doubt, ripping her apart with his vatra. Sera twisted her long hair around her wrist and threw it over her shoulder.
Oh, how she had wished Ophelia’s potion had worked. Then maybe she wouldn’t feel so…
Flustered?
Sera ignored her magic’s whispering and followed Ophelia to the far corner of the crumbling courtyard. An orb of blue light lifted from Ophelia’s fingers, and the oracle whispered her spell. Ivy curled back from a rotten wooden door in the floor.
“Help me with this, won’t you? I’m not as strong as I once was.”
Sera lifted the iron handle. A stench of rot and mildew emerged from the hole below. “Oh, Shadow, that’s vile.” Ophelia dropped her mage light into the space below, revealing a rope ladder. “That doesn’t look safe,” Sera said as she eyed the fraying knots.
“It’s an adventure, remember? Sometimes you’ve got to take risks.”
“I’ve got to admit that I agree with Seraphina,” Vasso said.
“You weren’t supposed to be here.” Ophelia pulled her long blond hair together, tucking it into the back of her robe. Before anyone else could interject, she lowered herself down.
Sera whispered a prayer and threw a kernel of power to Shadow, then gingerly followed the oracle into the dark.