Chapter 36
The musty scent of ancient stone fills my nostrils as the last echo of the puzzle mechanism clicks into place.
I’m standing a little straighter, a small smirk playing on my lips; we’ve cracked it—the floor puzzle with those damned vases.
My fingers still tingle from the elemental charge that surged when I aligned the water vase just so.
That’s one for the books—Fi one, ancient doucheface zero.
“Down we go,” Khol murmurs, his hand hovering over the hilt of the curved blade on his belt, eyes scanning the shadows for signs of trouble.
“Head first into danger once again,” I mutter, mostly to myself, but Tiernan chuckles softly beside me.
“Always such an optimist, Knuckles,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder.
I shrug. “Life hasn’t taught me much about having faith in people until you guys.”
“As much as I’d love to dissect that statement, witchling, we need to get moving,” Dezi interjects, though the tightness in his voice suggests he’s not looking forward to what’s next. I catch the twitch of his pale lips—the guy’s got a knack for hiding his discomfort, but I can read him now.
“Don’t get cocky. It will probably get harder the further in we go,” Revelin adds, the torchlight flickering across his beautiful features.
He’s keeping his typically overflowing emotions reigned in right now, so his aura is the only thing quieter than the steady drip-drip of water somewhere in the darkness ahead.
We descend further; the air growing cooler as we leave the chamber of vases behind.
The passage narrows, and I hunch, my daggers gripped tightly in both hands.
They’re an extension of me, as much a part of my being as the blood pumping through my veins.
I prefer my patented brass knuckles to the knives, but since I don’t know if I can get in that close, these will have to do.
“Watch your step,” I whisper back to the others as we navigate the uneven steps etched into the earth, each one leading us deeper into the heart of the ruins. Every shadow seems to dance, teasing us with the possibility of hidden dangers lurking just beyond sight.
“Knuckles, you doing okay?” Tiernan asks, keeping pace with me despite the narrow path.
“Never better. Can’t wait to meet the gnarly old man who asks what our quest and favorite color are,” I deadpan despite the adrenaline singing through my system.
It’s a lie, of course, but a comforting one.
We reach the bottom, the ground leveling out beneath our boots, and there’s a collective sigh of relief.
“Everyone wishing we’d taken Zumba for a while before attempting this shit?” Khol jokes, but his attempt at lightening the mood falls flat.
“I’d rather see what these ruins have in store for us next,” Dezi says, and something like anticipation—or is it dread?—tightens in my chest. “The anticipation of this mystery unfolding is much like being edged intellectually.”
“Not touching that,” I sing-song as I look at the opening in the wall.
“Rather the point…” the vampire mutters.
As we enter the huge depression in front of us, a cavern opens up, vast and silent, save for the gentle lapping of water from a pool at its center.
Its surface is as still as glass, reflecting the strange and intricate artifacts that encircle it like sentinels guarding some sacred ground.
I tread lightly, my eyes sweeping across the bounty of history displayed before us.
Amidst the trove, I spot a Grecian urn with scenes of heroes faded but still fierce, an ornate scabbard that must have belonged to a forgotten chieftain, and even what looks to be a fairy’s diadem, delicate as a spider’s web.
Again, what in the actual fuck is going on here?
“Look at this,” Khol murmurs, lifting a jeweled dagger so finely crafted it seems to slice the dim light into shards. “This is goblin steel.”
“Careful,” Tiernan warns, his hand instinctively reaching out as if to protect Khol from any magic protecting the item—or perhaps to protect the weapon from his mischief.
I give the basilisk a frustrated glare. “What did you miss when we said not to touch shit, scaly pants?”
He shrugs and I turn to look at our new location carefully.
The walls, adorned with carvings and murals, whisper secrets of an age when magic was as common as the air we breathe.
Among these depictions, I notice a recurring motif: beings descending into the watery depths, their forms both graceful and foreboding.
“Fantastic,” I groan, unable to shake the countless tales that warn of monsters lurking in such waters. “There’s probably something with tentacles waiting down there to make a meal out of us.”
“Or mer-folk with serrated teeth,” Khol adds, grinning wickedly as he sets the dagger back on its velvet-lined case.
“Could be nymphs,” Revelin says as he squints at the still water, “the kind that don’t take kindly to strangers disturbing their springs.”
Dezi runs a hand through his hair, a frown creasing his brow as he glances uneasily at the pool. “Not exactly ideal for vampires, either,” he mutters. “Deep water and dead bodies don’t mix.”
“Monsters or not, we need to figure this out,” Tiernan says, shooting Dezi a sympathetic look that quickly shifts to Revelin. “Any insights?”
Revelin strokes his chin thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on the still water. “This place could house many Fae creatures, or worse, something conjured by the ruin’s creator for protection.” He sighs, the weight of our quest momentarily bowing his shoulders. “But we won’t find answers standing here.”
We exchange wary glances, each of us aware that the next step involves plunging into the unknown. Fear may give us pause, but it’s the thrill of the hunt, the promise of discovery, that propels us forward.
The stagnant air of the ruins feels charged with my impatience as I stomp my way to the edge of the pool, the artifacts’ whispers fading behind me. “Oi, come out and face us, you finned fuckers!” My voice echoes off the stone walls, a challenge thrown into the depths.
I’m done with guessing games.
Khol’s chuckle cuts short, and Dezi’s dark eyes widen. Tiernan’s hand twitches towards his holster while Revelin raises an eyebrow. They’re all them frozen in place, waiting to see what my brash challenge brings forth.
A ripple disturbs the mirror-like surface of the water, and then, rising like a specter from my wildest imaginings, is a creature of myth.
The water serpent’s scales shimmer with the iridescence of a peacock's feather, casting prismatic light across the room.
It towers over us, ancient and majestic, the embodiment of the legends that have haunted our kind for centuries.
My heart races, but I can’t suppress a wild grin. “Who the fuck brought goddamn Nessie down here?!”
Of course, it’s not actually Nessie, but this thing could be a stunt double.
We brace for battle, muscles coiled tight.
Dezi steps back into the shadows, unable to help if the battle is aqueous.
Khol’s eyes gleam with the prospect of combat, and I grin as he lets his fangs descend.
Tiernan’s stance is solid, watching the beast like a soldier tracking a target.
But there’s no immediate lunge from the serpent, no rush of water to signal our end.
Instead, it watches us, intelligence gleaming behind those sea-glass eyes—a silent acknowledgment of equals, or maybe just a predator sizing up its prey.
It’s Rev who breaks the standoff, stepping forward with a calmness that belies the tension webbing through the rest of us.
His words are melodic, strange syllables flowing in an ancient Fae dialect I don’t comprehend.
The serpent’s head tilts, listening, responding not with violence but with a low, resonating sound that vibrates through my bones.
Be still my ovaries, my sirenic Prince is also some kind of monster tamer.
I lower my daggers just a fraction, a mix of wariness and wonder settling in my chest. This creature isn’t some mindless beast—it’s part of the puzzle, another secret keeper in these ruins that test not just our might, but our minds and our mettle.
As Revelin converses with the sentinel of the deep, I hope we prove ourselves worthy of its knowledge.
“State your purpose, land walkers,” the serpent’s voice rumbles like an underwater quake, each word pressing against my chest.
If it can speak English, why the fuck didn’t it do so in the first place?
Revelin turns to me, winking as he whispers, “Magic, lass. Don’t think so damn hard.”
Huffing, I roll my eyes and look at the serpent. “We seek the lost artifacts. Legends say they’re key to a greater mystery we’re trying to solve.”
The beast’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, I fear we’ve failed some unspoken test. But then it nods, sending ripples across the pool’s surface. “Prove your worth. Retrieve the Trident of Tides from my domain—without resorting to your sorcery.”
“I knew it!” I whirl around, stabbing my finger at them all. “I told you we’d find yet another damn task in this room.”
Dezi steps forward, clearing his throat. “I’ll... remain here. Obviously, this… quest… is not one I can assist with.”
“I’m not excited about splitting up, even for a short time. So stay safe, or I’ll stake you myself,” I growl as I look at him. Dezi merely nods, retreating into the shadowed edges of the chamber.
Revelin’s hand brushes mine—a fleeting touch—before he dives gracefully into the chilling embrace of the pool. Khol follows, a fierce determination in his eyes. Tiernan plunges in after, his broad shoulders cutting through the water. With a deep breath, I join them, the cold seeping into my bones.
I’m definitely going to punch whoever set this up in the balls. If they’re still alive, that is.
Below the surface, the world transforms. Light dances through the water, casting eerie shadows. We navigate through tight, jagged corridors, our movements deliberate. I can’t help but feel the weight of the unknown pressing in on us from all sides.
Khol signals to a narrow opening ahead, barely wide enough to slip through. My heart hammers as I squeeze myself between the rocks, praying I don’t get stuck in this underwater grave.
A flicker of movement catches my eye, and I see them—shadowy figures darting just out of sight.
Are they mere fish, or something more sinister?
I try to keep my imagination from running wild, focusing instead on the rhythmic motions of swimming, the bubbles trailing up from my lips, and the steady beat of my heart.
Finally, we enter a vast cavern, and there it is, nestled among age-old treasures that glitter and beckon: a gleaming golden object that has to be the Trident of Tides. It glows softly with magical energy, and for a moment, I’m transfixed.
Bet this thing is worth the GDP of a small country.
Tiernan gestures, urging caution, and I nod. Slowly, with respect for the ancient magic we’re trespassing upon, I reach out and grasp the relic. Its power hums through me, warm despite the surrounding chill.
The journey to the surface feels more treacherous now, the awareness of lurking dangers heightened by the trident in my hands. Every shadow seems alive, every current a potential threat.
We break the surface, gasping for breath, the chill of the water clinging to our skin.
My fingers tighten around the Trident of Tides, its glow dimming as if it senses its return to the air.
Revelin pulls himself onto the edge of the pool, water cascading off him in rivulets, while Khol and Tiernan follow suit, their expressions a mix of relief and triumph.
Not the time to think about how fucking hot they look, Fi.
The serpent’s massive head dips towards us, its eyes reflecting a wisdom that seems to stretch through the centuries. “Impressive,” it rumbles, the vibrations resonating in my chest. I can’t help but stand a little taller, pride swelling within me like a tide.
“Thank you,” Revelin replies, his tone respectful. He gives me an approving nod, acknowledging the part we all played.
As the serpent’s gaze lingers on the trident in my hand, I sense its approval, an unspoken commendation passing between us. It’s as though it recognizes something in us—maybe the same determination that drove whoever built these ruins.
“Your valor has been proven,” the serpent declares. Its colossal body shifts, scales catching the light, and with a graceful motion that belies its size, it reveals a section of the cavern wall sliding away to expose a hidden passage.
Tiernan scoops up Dezi’s discarded pack, slinging it over his shoulder with a grunt.
Khol retrieves the various weapons we left behind, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to a satisfied smile.
Even Dezi, who had stayed behind, nods in silent respect as he joins us, his dark eyes flickering to the trident.
“Guess we’re ready for the final boss battle,” I smirk. The weight of the relic in my hands feels like a promise, a tangible piece of the puzzle we’re here to solve. I glance back at the pool, at the creature that could have been our end, and instead became a testament to our resolve. “Thank you.”
It simply nods, a guardian granting passage to those deemed worthy. When it doesn’t demand the heavy ass relic back, I realize it intends for us to take it along for the ride.
Well, okay, then Nessie.
With the trident secured and my daggers back in place, I lead the way into the shadowed passage. I can almost taste the secrets waiting to be unraveled.
Dezi is right; this mystery is pushing us to the limit and back again.