“Because it’s literally filled with them?”
“It’s not actually blood,” Parthenia said. “I’m guessing it’s a chemical reaction of some kind, likely the water interacting with sulfur in the lake bed.”
“It’s a good sign,” Hadiza continued. “We’re close to the tomb. Behezda’s about five miles that way”—she pointed across the lake to where a large formation of rock rose from the ground—“and the tomb should be right ahead.”
Even with the rational explanation, the lake was unsettling, and as they drew closer, Ephyra felt some strange pull toward it.
“Are you sure it’s not cursed?” she asked uneasily. She edged closer as they looped around it, and found herself standing with her toes at the edge of the water, looking down at her reflection in the moonlight. She looked more dirty and miserable than she’d imagined. Her hair was matted and grimy. The thin scar that Hector Navarro had left on her cheek seemed to cut her face in two.
“I see the tomb,” Shara said.
Ephyra startled, turning away from the lake and trailing after Shara, squinting into the distance. She could see a dark shape ahead, rising from the rock. A wide, tiered rectangular stone base supported a colonnaded top. It looked like a blend between the architecture of the temple in Susa, and the more familiar architecture of the Six Prophetic Cities.
Ephyra felt that pull again and she realized it was not the lake she’d been drawn to. It was the tomb. The Chalice.
“Someone should stay behind with him,” Ephyra said, gesturing to Illya.
“We can’t afford to go in shorthanded,” Shara said tersely. “We don’t know what’s waiting for us in the tomb. I’m not risking it. So either you can stay behind with him, we leave him here by himself, or we take him in with us.”
Ephyra took a deep breath. Soon, she would have the Chalice in her grasp. She would be rid of Illya. She would find a scryer in Behezda who would find Beru for her. And then Beru would finally be healed. “Fine. Let’s just go.”
They crossed a long, paved courtyard lined with crumbling columns and gnarled, leafless trees. The closer they got to the tomb, the larger it loomed.
“Everyone, stay sharp,” Shara said as they reached the stairs that led up to the entrance doors. “I’m willing to bet we’re about to encounter some nasty surprises. Stick together and stay on guard.”
They climbed the stairs to the tomb’s entrance.
“How do we get in?” Numir asked, staring at the solid stone door. “Another hidden message in an ancient language?”
Parthenia inspected the door. “I don’t see any clues.”
“What was it the message said?” Illya asked, looking at Ephyra. “Offer a sacrifice . . .”
“Not of blood but of life,” Ephyra said.
“What does that mean?” Shara asked. “Of life?”
“The mirror that led us to Susa was designed so that only someone with the Grace of Blood could use it,” Hadiza said slowly. “So it would make sense if this one was the same. What if by ‘life’ they mean esha?”
They all looked at Ephyra.
Her mouth went dry. “I . . . no, I can’t do this.”
She didn’t want to explain that she didn’t know how to take part of someone’s esha without taking all of it. That the only thing she’d ever done with her Grace was kill.
“Use mine,” Illya said.
Shara looked at him like he was speaking in tongues, but Illya ignored her, rolling back his sleeve.
“She just threatened to murder you,” Shara said. “Barely a day ago.”
Ephyra narrowed her eyes at Illya in suspicion. He must be up to something, to offer himself up so easily.
“Doesn’t seem like anyone else is eager to volunteer,” he said.
He was right, of course. He was her shot at getting into the tomb, and even if he was planning something horrible, she’d take it.
The others watched as Ephyra moved toward him and laid her hand on his arm, just above his elbow. She could feel his pulse jumping beneath his skin.
Ephyra closed her eyes. You can do this, she told herself. It sounded like Beru’s voice in her head. She raised her other hand and put her palm against the mausoleum door. She took a breath, concentrating on Illya’s pulse, and then felt for the flow of his esha.
How did healers do this? As a child she’d pulled and pushed esha purely on instinct. Later, when she’d brought Beru back to life, she was so possessed by grief and pain that she couldn’t control herself. And as the Pale Hand, she took esha only to kill, seizing it by any means necessary.
She was powerful. She wasn’t gentle.
She thought of Beru, of her life getting cut short if Ephyra failed. She felt Illya’s pulse and tried to tug on his esha. Nothing. She was concentrating too hard, overthinking what she’d done dozens of times without thought.
A moment later, she felt his hand on her wrist, picking it up off his arm and setting it at his throat. Ephyra sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flying open to stare at him. His face was drawn and serious as he pressed her thumb against his pulse, his skin warm beneath her hand. A shiver ran down her spine.
Breathe, she told herself, blocking out everything else around her until all she could hear was his breath and his blood rushing through his body. She followed the sound to the thread of his esha. She coaxed it gently, like a baby chick fluttering onto her hand. His face twisted in discomfort and she released his esha, as if it had burned her. But she could still feel it, like warm water lapping at her fingertips. She breathed in and took it in hand, not pulling, just holding it there, working by instinct, and then slowly drew it toward her hand that was touching the door.
It began to move. Ephyra jerked her hand away from Illya, gaping at the door as it opened fully.
“I . . .” She’d done it. She hadn’t killed him. She hadn’t even hurt him. He was staring at her, one hand raised to his throat where she had touched him.
“Shall we?” Shara said, gesturing them forward.
Ephyra broke Illya’s gaze and went in first. As they crossed the threshold, the entrance sealed shut behind them. No going back.
Shara tapped her incandescent light until it glowed, illuminating the antechamber of the tomb. The others followed suit, and with their combined light Ephyra could see they were standing in a huge, cavernous space. She took a step forward.
“Wait—” Hadiza warned.
A cacophony of clicking sounds drowned out the rest of Hadiza’s words and Ephyra dropped to the ground before she could process what was happening.
A hundred arrows streamed across the mouth of the chamber.
She heard a sharp cry of pain from somewhere behind her and a beat later, the arrows ceased. She remained on the ground for a long moment, just to be sure.
“You idiot!” Numir’s voice cut through the silence, edged with anger.
“You’re welcome,” Parthenia gritted out, her voice wracked with pain.
Ephyra pushed herself off the ground, catching sight of Shara helping Hadiza up. Behind them, Numir was crouched beside Parthenia, who lay on the floor, clutching her arm against her chest.
“Why did you do that?” Numir asked, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice.
“It was a reflex,” Parthenia replied.
Ephyra suddenly understood the source of Numir’s anger. Parthenia had pushed Numir out of the path of the arrows, and as a result had gotten struck instead.
“It doesn’t look too deep,” Numir said, inspecting Parthenia’s wounded arm. Parthenia hissed in pain. “Don’t be a baby.”
“Looks bad enough that you should stay here,” Shara said. “Too dangerous.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Numir said at once, helping Parthenia to her feet.
“I don’t need a nursemaid,” Parthenia said irritably.
“Numir’s right,” Shara said. “Stay safe.”
Parthenia looked like she was about to protest again but a sharp look from Numir silenced her.
“The rest of us should keep going,” Ephyra said. Her gaze slid to Illya, who was looking around the tomb with curiosity. “He can go first, to test out the other traps for us.”
Illya grimaced.
“That’s . . . actually not a bad plan,” Shara said. She glanced at Illya and shrugged. “Sorry, but if it has to be one of us and all. Knew you’d end up being helpful.”
“Fine,” Illya said. “Then give me one of those.” He held out his hand and Hadiza handed over her light. Shining it directly in front of him, Illya crept farther into the chamber and then paused, as if waiting for more arrows to fly. Nothing happened.
He led them down a narrow passageway branching off from the first chamber. At the end of the passage, he stopped.
“Dead end?” Shara asked.
“No, there are stairs going down,” Illya replied.
He was clearly apprehensive. Being inside this dark tomb was bad enough, but going underground? Even Ephyra shivered a little bit.
He hesitantly went down one step, and then another. Ephyra could see his light disappearing downward. “Seems fine!” he called back.
Ephyra followed, the others at her heels. The stairs were so narrow they only allowed one person through at a time. She inched along behind Illya, pausing to wait for something to spring out of the walls at her, but nothing did. Shara and Hadiza followed her.
“Guess it’s safe,” Shara said in relief. “Which is either a good sign or a sign that there’s nothing—”
She cut off with a yelp. Ephyra lurched backward, her feet scrabbling for purchase, but the stairs had transformed—they now formed a smooth ramp. A scream tore at her throat as she fell onto her back and plummeted down into darkness.
She slid down and down, unable to stop herself, until finally she was spat out onto stone floor. She lay there for a moment, her head spinning, and then shifted over. Something cracked beneath her.
A moment later, there was a hollow tapping noise and an incandescent light illuminated their surroundings.
“Is everyone all right?” Hadiza asked.
Ephyra heard a groan and then Shara’s voice. “I think I broke a rib.”
“Illya?” Hadiza asked.
“Here.” He tapped on his light, too. Ephyra realized that hers had broken beneath her.
“If we can’t find a way out, we’ll starve to death,” Hadiza said matter-of-factly. “No way we’re getting back up there.”
Ephyra looked back toward the passage and what had once been stairs. They were at least fifty feet below the top level, with no means to climb up in sight.
“Come on,” Illya said. He was several paces away from them, his light illuminating another passage. “I think this is the only way forward.”
This time, Ephyra gave Illya a wide berth before following. As wide as the cuffs would allow. He stopped about thirty paces ahead. When Ephyra reached him, she saw why. The passage abruptly ended, plunging down into a deep cavern below. A thin rope bridge led across it.
“One at a time?” Ephyra suggested.
“I’m pretty sure this bridge is longer than thirty feet,” Illya replied. “Unless you’re planning to free me, we need to go together.”
The bridge swayed with every one of Illya’s steps. Ephyra waited a moment and then stepped onto it after him, holding tightly to each side.
“I think it can hold our weight—” He cut himself off as his foot went through one of the planks of the bridge.
Ephyra’s heart slammed against her ribs. Illya’s eyes were wide with panic as he stared down at the boundless abyss.
A second later he seemed to compose himself and pulled his foot free. He toppled onto the next plank in the bridge.
“Are you all right?” Shara yelled after them, clutching her injured rib.
“Fine,” Illya gasped back. He waited as Ephyra took her turn approaching the gaping hole in the bridge.
“Here,” he said, holding out his arms.
“I really don’t need your help,” she replied shortly, and with her hands braced on the ropes, she launched herself across the gap, landing neatly in front of him. They were far too close for Ephyra’s comfort, but she wasn’t going to be the one to move.
Illya didn’t move for a moment, either, breathing heavily, his eyes flicking down.
“Move,” she said, and he stepped back, shaking his head a little, and spun on his heel. Ephyra’s eyes stayed pinned to his back as they crossed the remainder of the bridge.
Shara followed behind them once they were safely on the other side, tucking her light into her belt to hold on to the ropes with both of her hands. She moved slowly, gritting her teeth in pain.
Hadiza came last, moving tentatively across the bridge. When she reached the piece that Illya had broken off, she leapt over. The bridge swayed as she landed hard on the next wooden plank, and Ephyra sensed what was about to happen before it did.
The rope snapped.
The bridge collapsed, and a high-pitched scream tore through the air as Hadiza was sent plummeting down into the chasm.
“Hadiza!” Shara cried, moving as if to lunge over the edge of the cliff, but Ephyra grabbed her arm to hold her back as Hadiza disappeared into the blackness.
“Hadiza!” Shara cried again, swinging her light over the dark chasm.
There was no answer. Shara called her name over and over again, her voice shaking.
“Stop it,” Ephyra snapped. “She’s gone.”
“She can’t be,” Shara said, biting down a sob. “She—”
“We can’t stay here.” Ephyra turned away from the cliff.
Shara looked at Ephyra as though she were seeing her clearly for the first time. Frigid silence stretched between them, absent the echoes of Hadiza’s screams.
“Oh, so you’re ready to just keep going?” Shara snarled at her. “You don’t care about Hadiza and the others and what happens to them, do you?”
“You all knew what you were getting yourselves into,” Ephyra replied. “If you don’t think it’s worth it, you should have left a long time ago.”
“You’re right, I should have. This was a terrible decision, and I did it anyway because I have a habit of making terrible decisions, and yet somehow it’s always fine in the end. No one dies. But this time, you’re here.”
“This isn’t my fault,” Ephyra said.
“It is!” Shara yelled. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t gone looking for that stupid Chalice! Hadiza would still be here. And if your father hadn’t gone looking for it, Badis would still be here, too. You dragged us here, and you cursed us.”
Ephyra sucked in a breath. “If that’s what you really think, you can stay here.”
Shara’s eyes burned with anger in the dim light. “Fine. Go on without me.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, blinking in the darkness, and then Ephyra turned her back and started to walk. It was a moment before she heard Illya’s footsteps catch up to her.
They climbed the path that wound around the cavern. Ephyra could hear faint sounds from below, like skittering animals. She shivered, keeping her eyes focused on Illya and the light in his hand just ahead of her.
The rumble of stone sliding over stone sounded, faint at first but growing louder. Ephyra instinctively looked up, and saw a column plunging down onto the path.
She leapt forward, rolling away from the impact as it crashed to the ground, dust spraying up at them.
Illya grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet. “We need to go, now.”
“What?” Ephyra said, trying to jerk her arm away from him. He dragged her forcefully down the path. “Let go of me—”
The rumbling sounded again and Ephyra abruptly stopped trying to pull away from Illya and instead shoved him forward, running after him.
Another stone column slammed down behind them and they sprinted as hard as they could. Ahead, Illya’s light illuminated a juncture in the path. She ran harder, feet flying, mere steps behi
nd Illya. They were nearly at the juncture when Ephyra’s foot caught the edge of a rock and she went flying to the ground. The rumbling was so loud, ringing between her ears, there was nothing in her mind besides get up, get up, get up!
She pushed herself up and suddenly there were arms around her waist, lifting her to her feet and slamming her against the wall. Ephyra shut her eyes as the sound of the rock column crashing into the path boomed in her ears. After a moment there was silence, punctuated only by sharp pants of breath.
The breathing, she realized, was not her own. And after a moment she understood what had just happened. Illya had pulled her to safety. The same Illya who was now pinning her between the rock wall and his body, his head tucked against her shoulder.
He pulled back and in the darkness she could not make out his expression. She didn’t move, didn’t push him away, just waited. He shifted his weight, bowing his head and ghosting breath across her lips, and Ephyra went very still.
A sudden realization sliced through her—she was waiting for him to kiss her. On the heels of that realization came another—despite his timely rescue, she still hated him, every bit as much as she had in Pallas Athos.
“Should be safe, now,” he said, leaning away from her.
In the span of a breath, Ephyra gathered herself. She was here for one reason—to get the Chalice. Either Illya was going to help her get it, or he was going to try to take it himself and that was the extent to which she needed to think about him.
“So,” Illya said, gesturing at the junction. “Which way?”
Ephyra stood in front of a fork in the path, which led to two possible routes. The silence seemed to crowd with whispers, words she couldn’t make out. She felt a tug. The Chalice.
“Left,” Ephyra said, following the direction of the pull. “After you.”
Illya led the way, casting glances back at her every few minutes. It irritated her, made her feel jumpy and anxious.
“I know why you saved me,” she said.
“Oh?” A smile played at his lips.
“You’re not fooling me. You’ve been cozying up to Shara and the others this whole time, trying to win them over, and maybe it’s working.” She faced him head-on, putting steel into her voice. “But it will never work on me. You saved me so I would think, oh well, he did those terrible things, but maybe deep down he’s a good person. After all, he helped me, didn’t he? And maybe I’d be a little less on guard, a little less cautious. And maybe, over time, you’d start to win me over. You’d keep being helpful, charming, and I’d have to wonder, maybe he really did change. Maybe I can trust him.”
As the Shadow Rises: Book Two of The Age of Darkness Page 22