Chapter 34
I’m weaving through the chaos of the dude-filled bus, my arms laden with bundles of dried herbs and vials of murky potions.
Tiernan is hoisting a sack of weapons onto his shoulder, his muscles rippling in a way that nearly distracts me from the task at hand.
Khol is staring at the map on our cluttered table, tracing a route with his finger.
“Look at us, gearing up like we’re some kind of fucked up nerdy DnD party,” I joke, unable to suppress a smirk as I imagine us, dice in hand, delving into imaginary dungeons instead of the very real peril awaiting us beyond Goldgarde’s sturdy walls.
Maybe I should get a copy… watching both groups of guys battle over a campaign would be hysterical.
“Actually,” Khol begins with a sheepish grin, “Khal and I have been rolling for initiative since we were little ankle-biters.”
“You were a teenage Scaleon Musk, huh?” Tiernan snorts, nudging Khol with an elbow. The comment ignites a scuffle between them, playful punches thrown amidst chuckles and dodges.
Revelin leans against a shelf, a wry grin plastered on his face as he observes the friendly brawl, clearly relieved to be out of the line of fire for once. Dezi looks like he’s nursing the beginning of a headache, his fingers massaging his temples with measured patience.
“Fi, you realize how lucky you are that I let half this shit slide?” Dezi mutters in my direction, though there’s a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes.
I arch a brow at him, my hands on my hips. “I never took you for the crotchety type, Dezi.”
“Trust me, Fi, you haven’t pegged me at all,” he retorts, and I can’t help but snort at the implied double entendre, my eyes sparkling with the silent dare of a challenge.
“Is that a challenge?” My voice is laced with mischief, and the air suddenly crackles with something more potent than our usual banter.
“Very much so,” he says, matching my tone, and the flirtatious undercurrent halts Khol and Tiernan’s tussle as they glance over, eyebrows raised. “I enjoy our battles of will in the bedroom, witchling.”
I sigh, shaking my head. “You know, it’s amazing.” I raise my voice just enough to be heard over their sudden quiet. “A little innuendo and every single time, without fail, it’s like someone cast ‘distract men with sex talk’ because you all turn into fucking meerkats.”
The boys exchange sheepish looks, chastened but not quite willing to give up the thread of humor entirely. A shared laugh ripples through the group, tension dissipating like mist in the morning sun.
We might be on the brink of disaster, but at least we’ll meet it with a grin and raised middle fingers.
The glen we identify as the starting point greets us with a hush, as if the very air knows we’re hunting for secrets. Greenery sways gently, oblivious to the tension knotted in my shoulders.
“I don’t get it,” I mutter, scanning the area for any sign of magic. “Why does Amethyst hate me so much? Revelin, you never led her on or…” I pause to gag for a second, then continue, “…did anything with her, right?”
“Never,” Revelin assures me, his gaze earnest. “I’ve been a fuck boi, I know, but I didn’t cross that line because it might go south and affect my band.”
At least he admits the fuck boi part now.
I shake my head, plucking at a blade of grass absentmindedly. “Women’s feuds are beyond me. If I don’t like someone, I keep my distance. No need for a dramatic saga.” I release the grass, watching it flutter back to earth. “Why can’t we punch it out and move on?”
“Because society expects women to be amiable, not aggressive,” Khol chimes in from beside Dezi, his voice a low rumble of thoughtfulness. “It molds behavior into something more... insidious because it denies emotional resolution.”
“Holy shit,” I snark as I peer at him. “Is that Dr. Beard-o or Khol talking?”
“He’s correct, though,” Dezi nods, his brow furrowed.
“There’s never been an allowance for straightforward anger, expression of it, and resolution in the female sphere.
It has to go underground, become this twisted, passive-aggressive wound because expressing it was punished for many centuries, witchling. ”
Their words swirl around me, but my frustration only grows. “It’s so immature,” I grumble, extending my senses outward, seeking the elusive spell work. “Dealing with it is like finding out evolution took a day off.”
“Ah, but Khorinea’s vendetta is textbook jealousy and insecurity, isn’t it?
” Revelin interjects, raising his voice to be heard over the whispering leaves.
“We’ve got bigger fish to fry than dealing with her little power plays.
She’s never been even a blip on my radar, despite whatever bullshit she made up in her head. ”
I sigh again, feeling comforted by his words, but not the situation.
“I despise feeling like I’m forced to be at odds with other women for no reason other than they need extensive therapy and cannot respect the clear boundaries I set when they behave poorly.
Khorinea coming back time after time is exhausting, as is her determination to join up with other deranged narcissists like Amethyst trying to destroy me.
Dude, I’m just living my fucking life, trying to figure out shit like everyone in the universe.
Fuck all the way off with your trash takes. ”
Tiernan, now sleek fur and predatory grace, winds his way around my legs, his tail looping around my calf in quiet solidarity. The warmth of his support steadies me, and I let out a slow breath.
“Female friends outside of my sister just aren’t in the cards for me, I fear.”
“Maybe,” Revelin says thoughtfully, tilting his head. “Or we could get some non-rigged readings to point us in the right direction...”
“Enough about those stupid cards,” Dezi interrupts, an edge of excitement breaking through his usually calm demeanor. He motions us over to where he stands by a cluster of bushes. “Look here.”
We crowd around him, peering down at the small, moss-covered altar he’s uncovered. My heart skips a beat. This is it—the threshold to answers we desperately need. I kneel beside it, brushing away the debris, ready to delve into whatever lies beneath.
The moss gives way beneath my fingertips, cool and slightly damp, as if the altar is exhaling a long-held breath. Lichen-etched symbols emerge from the greenery, arcane and beckoning. We cluster around it, a ring of anticipation.
“Could this be it?” I murmur, my earlier vexation dissolving into the possibility of discovery.
“If not, someone has a shitty sense of humor,” Khol grunts, his eyes scanning the grooves and ridges of the stone with a practiced eye.
Dezi leans in closer, his brow furrowed as he traces a sigil. “These markings are ancient—older than any text on maps and books we’ve seen.”
“What secrets are you hiding?” I whisper to the altar, extending my hands above its surface. My palms tingle, the air thickens, and I feel the gentle hum of magic pulsating from the stone.
“Careful, lass,” Revelin warns from behind me, but his usual jest is absent, replaced by genuine concern.
Interacting with unknown magic is dangerous—he doesn’t need to remind me of that.
I nod, closing my eyes to sharpen my focus. Power courses through my veins as I draw on the wellspring within, sending delicate tendrils of my aura into the crevices of the altar. The sensation is like dipping my consciousness into a stream of whispers and echoes.
“Anything?” Tiernan asks, his voice a low growl, still in leopard form, alert and ready for whatever may come. The fact that he can speak when he’s shifted is still amazing to me, and I get distracted by it every time.
“Give me a moment,” I reply, the threads of my magic seeking, probing. “This is my first time trying to unweave other people’s magic and I’m not exactly an experienced practitioner, guys.”
“Here,” Dezi says softly, pointing to a nearly imperceptible depression in the altar's corner. “This could be something.”
“Found a trace,” I announce, a faint line of energy glowing beneath my eyelids, snaking around the altar like an ethereal vine. “There’s enchantment here, old and clever. Hidden mechanisms, perhaps. This isn’t just an altar; it’s a gateway.”
“Then let’s unlock it,” Khol says, determination lacing his tone.
Fuck yeah—into the breach we go.
Dezi’s finger hovers over the depression as I guide him through the magic-laced maze, my voice a steady whisper. “Left, right there. Press down, but gently.”
His hands are steady, a testament to years of handling delicate instruments and ancient texts. The stone beneath his fingertips yields, sinking with a soft grind that echoes through the glen. We all hold our breath, a collective pause in time, before the altar shudders.
“Step back,” I command, not needing to see to sense the shift in energy. There’s a rumble, a low growl from the earth itself, and suddenly, the ground before the altar cracks open, a dark maw appearing where solid ground once lay.
“Fuck me running, Sassy; you did it!” Khol exclaims, his eyes wide with the thrill of discovery.
I open my eyes, the energy trails fading from my vision, replaced by the gaping entrance to possibility.
“We did it,” I correct, because it isn’t just my magic or Dezi’s fingers.
It’s Tiernan’s silent support, Revelin’s playful smiles, and Khol’s boundless enthusiasm that helped give me the confidence to even try something like that.
Excitement surges through me, a pulsing wave that drowns out the remnants of irritation and unease. This is why we’re here—why we endure the petty squabbles and the long, dangerous journeys—for moments like these when mystery unfolds at our fingertips.
“We’re on a real adventure now,” Revelin says, his grin infectious as he peers into the darkness below.
“There will definitely be traps,” Dezi cautions, ever the voice of reason, even as his own eyes gleam with anticipation. “We can’t simply rush in and get ourselves stuck in some pit full of sticks or trapped in an airless room.”
As if he’d have a problem in an airless vault.
“We’ll deal with them,” I say, more confident than I feel.
Tiernan shifts back to human form, grabbing his clothes quickly before coming to stand behind me. His presence is a comforting constant and I lean back into him slightly. “After you, fearless leader,” he says, nodding to me with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“No way am I letting you clowns toss me into the abyss,” I retort as I step forward, leading the way to the newly revealed passageway. “Get over here and we’ll stick together as a group.”
“Into the belly of the beast we go,” Khol murmurs, his hand on the hilt of his sword, excitement palpable in his stance.
“Interesting choice of words from a basilisk,” Dezi says wryly.
“Stop fighting and help me find our next clue,” I say with a glare. “Don’t make me turn this dangerous quest around and head home.”
They all chuckle and I grin to myself.
At least they think I’m funny.