by Olivia Ash
The hall they ran through forced them into single-file as they ran through the ever-closing space with what seemed like too far to go without hope of being crushed. Sophia’s heart pounded as she desperately moved to escape the force of the walls, knowing that if she was crushed, the heir to the throne would be lost forever, and Nighthelm would be plunged into darkness.
Ezekiel started to mutter something, and strong wind currents churned between them. Though the winds blasted against the walls, they did little to stop or reverse them from narrowing. He screwed up his face in concentration, but Sophia didn’t want to stick around to see if he succeeded in stalling the walls.
“Just keep running!” Sophia said.
Edric was first. Sophia second. Andreas, third. And finally, Ezekiel. Each of them stopped only when they reached a wall. Sophia turned to watch as the hall they were just inside sealed itself. But no alarms sounded, like she expected when a trap was triggered.
Gasping for breath, she shifted her gaze over her men and asked, “Is everyone alright?”
The men nodded as they worked to catch their breath.
“Let’s avoid that on the way out,” Andreas said. “Shall we?”
“What’s the matter, Andreas?” Edric said, “Wraith pancakes not your thing?”
“Ha, ha.” Andreas ran his hands over his face and through his hair.
Sophia sighed. “Let’s just keep moving.”
They walked down the hall, silent as ghosts. Even their breaths didn’t make a whisper of sound. As they moved, the hall seemed to go on forever. Sophia worried they had made a wrong turn, but there was none to make after the walls that closed in on them. She took measured breaths to calm her nerves. She took another step, and a click echoed from under her boot.
“Damn,” she whispered then quickly ducked out of the way to avoid poison laced spears shooting from the wall on her right.
The acidic tinge mixed with steel was hard to ignore. Though she couldn’t tell what sort of poison it was, she could almost taste the metallic, pungent scent that came off the tips of the spears. She dodged three more as she took off in a dead run down the corridor to a T-intersection. Spikes emerged from the walls on the left, so she took the right. Her heart nearly skipped a beat when she tripped over an uneven crack in the ground, but she managed to steady herself and keep herself from getting impaled.
All the while, she listened for three other sets of footsteps behind her. She didn’t want her men to get hurt.
More turns appeared in the maze-like passage of the castle, and each turn seemed even more riddled with traps than the last. Finally, she stopped at one intersection and dragged her sword along the wall, which caught on a ridge. If the sword was the key, it would help guide her through the maze. Sinking the blade in, the traps stopped.
Ezekiel’s light shone ahead, piercing the thick darkness, catching a metallic design ahead of them.
That was it. That had to be the archives.
“That’s it,” Edric said, confirming Sophia’s thoughts.
Panting for breath, she approached the door and stared at its weird design. It had a lock similar to the one hidden in the castle’s outer wall. But instead of being an invisible, magical door, this one was made of wood and steel, with silver filigree that looked disjointed and had no real sense or logic to the design.
Now, she just had to figure out how to open it.
Chapter Thirteen
Sophia
As if traipsing through treacherous, dark tunnels wasn’t fun enough. Sophia stood at the door to her next clue to the heir. It was locked. And nothing she did could unlock the damned door. And it didn’t seem as though they were as abandoned as she had thought. Someone, or something, was behind that door, shuffling about.
At first, Sophia thought the sound was just her imagination. But she heard it again, and she looked to her men. Each of them held worried expressions. They were all weary from the trek to the archives, and the thought of another fight, if it came down to that, wasn’t exactly thrilling.
Sophia tried to use the sword again, this time pushing her magic into it. But it still didn’t work. There had to be a way through the door. She wanted to be careful about how she did it though. She didn’t want to trigger another trap. They were so close to getting in, she could practically feel the clue reaching out to her, begging her to reveal it. She had to be careful. This was not a time to rush, despite the time limit proverbially hanging over her head.
She tried one last time to use the sword. More clinking echoed in the hall and she worried she had set off another trap.
“Zeke,” she said. And he nodded and turned, facing the end of the hallway, not needing much more direction than just the sound in her voice. He was already working to disarm the trap and find any other magical wards.
Facing the door again, she had no idea what to do. The sword was the key, that’s what the nymphs had told her. The sword had to be the way in.
She knelt and studied the shape of the door and the lock. It was similar to the one outside of the castle, but announcing she bore the sword of the kings didn’t seem like a good idea. That would probably draw too much attention to them. They needed to be stealthy and quick. That meant drawing attention could spell trouble for them, and they already had their fair share of traps on their unexpectedly deadly trek here to begin with.
The filigree had to have something to do with the lock. She tried to force them to move with her hand, setting off more traps. She tried moving them in a pattern. That didn’t work.
Sighing, frustrated, she stood back and stared at the door, willing the solution to come to her. The only thing she hadn’t done was hang the sword on the door. Figuring it was an option worth trying, she would rather attempt it than straight out dismiss it. She placed the sword on the door, hilt up, and blade tip pointed downward.
The filigree moved, connecting in a weird, jagged circle, that when complete, dispersed an aura from the center of the sword. The lock clicked and the door slid open a crack.
She stared at the door almost too nervous to push it open. But this was what she fought and nearly died for. Now was not the time for second-guessing.
“Good work,” Edric said.
She nodded. “Let’s split up. Andreas and Edric, you search the back end. Zeke and I will search the front. We’ll check back if we find anything.”
With a nod from the men, Sophia pushed the door all the way open and peeked inside. Whoever or whatever was in the room before must have left. Or perhaps it was a draft. The area held an almost unnatural chill that seemed to move through the room.
Shaking off that feeling, she moved to the first shelf in the archive, which turned out to be little more than a large storage room filled with books, scrolls, and a whole lot of dust and melted wax. It wasn’t the most glamorous of places, but she was certain they would find the next clue here. It had to be here, otherwise they’d run out of time and lose the heir forever.
Chapter Fourteen
Andreas
Andreas went to one of the nearest shelves toward the back of the archive and thumbed through some of the old scrolls and tomes, looking for anything that could be of use. A strange sensation of being watched overcame him. He turned, hand on his sword, only to find dust, shadow, and shelves full of tomes.
Being a creature of darkness and shadow, he could sense something dark nearby. They didn’t have much time there, and what little they did was rapidly running out. They needed to quickly find the information they needed and get out of there.
Shaking off his initial alarm and removing his hand from the hilt of his sword, he returned to his search. Albeit, a little faster now. He knew that if the duchess found out they were there, they would never get another chance in the archives. Not to mention there would be some pretty deep shit to pay for.
His mind returned to the mountain and the vexsnare that had hunted them. Forcing back a shudder, he forced himself to focus. He didn’t think the mountain would be an optio
n the next time they were caught. And he hated to think of the only other fate they would face.
Edric rounded the corner and said, “I can’t find anything. I hope you’re having more luck than I.”
Andreas shook his head. They exchanged a worried glance. He knew this was a possible dead end. “Hopefully Zeke and Sophia are having better luck.”
“I certainly hope so,” Edric said. “I would hate to go through all this trouble only to come up empty-handed.”
Andreas said, “For Sophia’s sake, let’s hope there’s at least something here.”
“Agreed,” Edric said. “Perhaps we should regroup or trade off. Another look through the shelves with different eyes may help turn up something that was initially overlooked.”
Andreas agreed and went to the back shelves Edric had already gone through. At this point, anything was worth a shot. After all, getting to the archives was difficult enough. And it would be nice to have something come easy for once.
Not finding anything, he decided to go check on Sophia. He found her searching through the endless scrolls and parchments of old.
“Finding anything?” he asked.
She sighed and shook her head. “You?”
“Nothing yet. I’ll keep looking though.” He smiled and hoped that it reassured her, just a little. He could tell she was tense and worried with not having found anything of use yet.
She returned his smile and said, “Good luck.”
He nodded and went to find Ezekiel. Perhaps he had better luck, if he didn’t get carried away with the thrill of the tomes he had yet to read.
EZEKIEL
Ezekiel was in heaven.
A desperate urge to finger through the tomes, parchments, and scrolls kept safe from years of study with the most powerful sorcerers of his past overcame him. It nearly overwhelmed him with need.
Instead of giving in though, he kept his focus on Sophia’s quest. Anything that he could find to help her in restoring the last remaining heir, he would do. Perhaps, he would find something that would be of use for him in the future, but he wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of dividing his focus.
But despite the everlasting researcher in him begging him to pick a scroll, any scroll, he scanned the spines of the tomes for anything that would point toward the heirs. His search was looking bleak, but he pressed on.
Andreas rounded the corner. Ezekiel met his gaze. Andreas nodded. “Find anything?”
“Other than a gripping need to stay here for the rest of my life studying the scrolls? Nope. I’m not willing to give up yet, though.” He said through a heavy breath. “What about you? Find anything yet?”
Andreas shook his head. “This can’t be a worthless clue.”
“I agree. Something has to be here.” Ezekiel pulled out a tome missing its title, likely worn off from years of use and then disuse. He flipped through the pages, but it turned out to be a historical retelling of the gods and their sleeping habits. He replaced it.
“Maybe Sophia has had better luck,” Andreas said.
“I sure hope so,” Ezekiel muttered.
Hope dwindled more and more, with each moment spent finding nothing leading to the heir. He didn’t know what he would do to comfort Sophia if that ended up being the case. He had to keep what little hope he had left alive. Otherwise, the point of this whole thing was moot. And he just couldn’t believe that.
Chapter Fifteen
Sophia
Sophia was frustrated.
So far, everything was turning up a whole lot of nothing. She figured she misunderstood what the nymphs were hinting at, or they were just less forward with the information she needed than she originally thought. Either way, she refused to give up on the search until every little nook and cranny had been explored.
In a last-stitch effort, she pulled on the sword, held the blade against her forehead, and sighed. She put as much need and desperation into her words as possible. She couldn’t believe that this trip was a dead end. “Please, you have gotten me this far, guiding me to this point. Don’t fail me now.”
A pull in the center of her gut urged her forward toward the wall. Trusting in the sensation, she continued to walk, following the pull to an alcove.
She spotted something hidden behind tall shelves and layers of thick dust in the farthest corner of the archives. A rumpled up, dingy white cloth, stained from years of neglect, sat covering something meant to be kept secret. Pulling on the cloth, she discovered a collection of paintings.
She pulled one into the light and studied the image before her. Her heartbeats pounded in her ears. Her breath came in short bursts, and her body tingled.
The king stood proudly next to his queen. Two little girls stood before them. The king rested a loving hand on the shoulder of his daughter while she held her head high, heir to the throne with a brilliant, jeweled tiara resting on her head. The other little girl, younger than the first, stood in front of the queen. Though she didn’t have a tiara, she also stood proud, smiling wide, looking happy and loved.
Sophia’s lips pulled into their own smile, a soft, almost sad, one. She wished she had known her own family. Known what it was like to have that love and pride.
Refocus.
This was the closest she had ever been to a solid clue on what the heirs looked like. She stared at the two girls, wondering which one still lived and which one had unfortunately perished. As she studied the tallest one, Sophia believed her to be the strongest and most apt to have survived the mountain and whatever killed the other. She held the air of nobility, standing proudly before her father, the king.
She seemed familiar though. But Sophia couldn’t place why.
The other girl…
Wait.
The older one…
She looked just like…
The long, golden-brown hair that curled around the familiar shape of the girl’s face. The arch of her eyebrows and fullness of her lips…
Sophia sucked in a breath that got caught in her throat. The girl in the painting looked just like the one in the coffin. Just younger. Much younger.
No. It couldn’t be. Could it?
Ezekiel stepped up behind her. She leaned into him, but she couldn’t bring herself to take her eyes off the girl in the painting.
“Wow,” he said. “She looks just like the girl we found.”
Sophia’s voice was as soft as a whisper. “I think that’s because it is her.”
She finally pulled her eyes from the painting to turn and face Ezekiel. He stared at the painting. His eyes grew wide as the realization dawned on him.
“I didn’t see that one coming.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I always thought the heir was a man. After all, Nighthelm held an extensive line of kings with boys as heirs. Not girls.”
Sophia nodded. “Maybe because everyone assumed the heirs were male, in order to protect the princesses, the king and queen let people think so.”
Ezekiel scratched his chin. “Very possible. Who knows how long a plot to take out the royal family had been in the works and if the king and queen even knew about it.”
She returned to face the painting and ran the tip of her fingers across the other girl’s image. A mix of anger and sadness consumed her. Her magic buzzed through her, but she kept it down. With everything in her, she knew the eldest princess was the last remaining heir, laid in a crystal coffin within the caves of Ripthorn.
Andreas and Edric joined her and Ezekiel. Edric was holding a book.
Sophia asked, “What did you find?”
“A book of records,” he said. “We assume it is a birth record of the most recent bloodline in Nighthelm royalty.”
“That may be useful. We can learn the name of the heir at least,” Ezekiel said and took up the book and began flipping through the pages.
“What did you find?” Andreas asked.
Sophia pointed to the painting behind her. “We found the heir.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sophia
Sophia had found the heir.
She just didn’t quite know how she, herself, fit into everything just yet.
The oracles told her to find the missing pieces of her soul. She would be healed. They also said she wasn’t meant to be a slave or a warrior, and that she was an orphan lost in the mountain. The last thing they told her was to restore the throne.
Ripthorn seemed to have a lot to do with her and her past. The mountain held the last living heir as well.
The nymphs told her the magic keeping the heir alive was dwindling away. They had a little over a week to find her, the key to waking her, and then they would finally restore her to the throne. Her destiny would finally be fulfilled. She hoped she would live in peace with her men after that. As long as she had them by her side, she would be happy. Even on days when it seemed the odds were against them.
She frowned.
It did no one any good standing around. She reached for the book Edric still held. He handed it over and she flipped through the pages, just for added measure. A good chunk of the last half remained empty. The last name scrawled onto the page was Madison Averell. She stared at the girl in the painting, repeating her name over and over in her mind. Somehow, she knew this girl, but she couldn’t place how. And it confirmed that she was the girl in the painting.
There was no entry for the other girl in the painting. Knowing something horrible happened to the younger girl pained Sophia. She couldn’t imagine the horrors that the poor child faced and the ghastly death she had to endure.
Shaking her head, she returned her attention to the older girl. Sophia tapped the name on the page. “Her name is Madison Averell. There is no name listed for the other girl in the painting. Whoever she is, still remains a mystery.”