“We’ve been waiting a long time for you, Bellata,” a deep, raspy voice replied. Before I could respond, another prick burned my neck, forcing me into the depths of darkness.
Chapter 15
It was as if a thousand boulders had smashed my skull. I tried to lift my hand to rub the pulsating spot, but my arms wouldn’t move. Pins and needles pierced my skin as blood rushed down my veins. A strong cord secured my wrists together above my head. Grunting, I twisted them, attempting to stretch out the cord and escape, but it only tightened. Once my eyes fully adjusted, I tried to stand and found another cord biting into my ankles. I strained to pull my feet apart, but the cord was the same as the one on my wrists: the more I struggled, the more it tightened.
“Struggling is pointless,” the same raspy voice from before said. A softer tone lay beneath the hoarse voice, but I couldn’t assume my captor was kind.
“I figured that much out, thanks,” I muttered.
A dark abyss surrounded me on all sides, obstructing my vision. Where was everyone? What if something bad had happened to them? What if it was Ophidian? Had he taken them?
“Who are you?” My voice wavered at the end.
The figure stalked toward me, a ball of white light hovering from his fingertips. The gray cloak and darkness of the cave shaded his face from the light.
“Come,” he said. “Our time is limited.”
Grabbing my ankles, the man cut the cord holding my feet together. He then sliced through the air, and my arms fell. Warm blood sped back into my fingertips as he yanked me up from the cold ground. He latched another rope, like a leash, around the cords still binding my wrists.
I yanked at the bondage before searching for an escape.
“There is none,” he said without turning around. He moved down the long, stone tunnel, tugging at the leash.
Digging my heels into the ground, I glared at him. “Where are my friends? What did you do to them?”
His heavy footsteps ceased. The ball of light on the man’s other large palm transferred to his thick, tanned fingertips. He then pressed his fingers to the cave wall. Rays of light scattered through the wall like spiderwebs before the stone wailed, its cracks echoing off the neighboring walls. A moment passed, and one last crack burst across the cavern.
I dodged a chunk of rock that barely missed my head and held my bound arms up, shielding myself from any more falling debris. Pieces of stone nicked and scraped against my hands. Fortunately, the larger rocks landed elsewhere. Once the dust settled, I saw that the stone in front of us had shattered.
Beyond the rubble, a new tunnel appeared in the center of the broken rock. The man continued through, giving me a good yank on the leash. I scrambled after him, nearly losing my balance on the uneven ground.
How deep were we in the mountain? And where did it lead?
As we continued down the dark corridor, flashes of light glinted off the man’s large fingertips. It was like the magic I had seen James perform, but slightly different. James's light was a steady stream, resembling a river. This light was like sunlight bouncing off water, a reflection. That meant only one thing then: I’d found another Magister.
Excitement flitted through me, but I stayed alert. If this man was a Magister, why was he holding me captive?
In moments, small shimmers on the walls sparkled into radiant jewels and gems, shining against the Magister’s light. Distracted by the twinkling surrounding us, I ran straight into the man’s back.
Stepping back, I rubbed my nose and asked, “Where are we?”
The man turned, illuminating his hand fully, and I shut my lids. Not only was the light blazing, but the reflection off the gems magnified it so brightly, it burned my eyes. I waited a few seconds before opening them again.
The Magister’s power revealed his stout physique beneath the gray cloak. With the light illuminating the tunnel, I could see dark green leaves embroidered into the ash-colored fabric.
The man held his arm high, allowing the light to leave his palm. It formed a small sphere in the air and floated above our heads, lighting the wide stone tunnel surrounding us. I gasped as the cave walls sparkled with a rainbow of jewels and gems. Shades of purple, blue, and orange decorated the brown rock wall.
The Magister removed his hood, revealing a large, burly man with a mass of black curls tied into a bun. Dark red splotches covered his forehead and cheeks, only allowing small bits of his olive-toned skin to show. The rest of his face was hidden behind a neatly trimmed beard that grew from his cheeks and chin.
“I am Neural, the Magister of this Land,” the man said in a booming voice. “I apologize for the bindings. But we can’t let you get away.” Spreading his arms wide, he grinned. “Welcome to Dunsque.”
The cave was empty save for us. “Where is everyone?” I asked.
Neural lowered his arms, his shoulders drooping as pain shadowed his features. “That is why you are here.”
He snapped his fingers, and the sphere bobbed higher, reminding me of Sana’s healing orbs in Ramni. The crystals twinkled brighter as another figure emerged from an adjacent corridor. Like Neural, this figure wore a cloak. Only theirs was dark green with gray leaves, the exact opposite.
As the new person approached, he yanked off the hood, revealing a tall, slender man with long, blond hair tied back into a simple ponytail. His skin was a creamy white but was covered in the same blotches as Neural.
“Is this her?” the man asked, raising a brow as he peered down his long nose at me. His voice was deep and rasped, like Neural’s—the only similarity they seemed to have.
“This is Divad,” Neural said, ignoring his comrade’s question.
“I thought there was only one Magister per Land,” I commented.
“There is,” Divad snapped, causing white light to pop from his fingertips. “Because of the morb, we had to join forces. I’m the Magister of Trefair.”
“The morb?”
Divad scoffed and swatted his hand at me. “How can this be the Bellata? She’s too young and ignorant.”
My toes curled in my boots as I tried to control my tongue. Irritation ignited under my skin, warming my palms as I glared at the pasty Magister. “I don’t know where I am or what’s going on, but I do know that you still haven’t told me where my friends are.”
Divad clenched his jaw, showing his long, white teeth below his curled upper lip. He opened his mouth to rebuttal with a nasty remark, but stopped, his eyes drifting to my hands. Orange sparks of light crackled off my fingertips.
“She is the one,” Neural said, grinning at me before shooting a smirk that said, “I told you so” to Divad.
Divad worked his jaw, then bowed. “You were right, my friend.”
Neural hummed happily to himself as he cut the bindings off my arms. “Come, I will take you to your friends, and we will explain everything.”
I rubbed my wrists as I followed the two Magisters. We hurried through the tunnel until we reached an area lined with sparkling emerald jewels. Floating in the air, the light of the orb reflected off the different shades of green. It was a breathtaking sight, but the eerie silence that barricaded us kept my senses on guard.
The cave walls widened until we were in a cavern like the one in Ophidian’s Realm: Ofavemore. But while that one was deadly, this one was beautiful. Octagonal gems and spherical jewels of all different shapes, sizes, and colors sparkled as many glowing orbs lit the open space. Soft whispers echoed against the walls. The ceiling couldn't be seen from where we were standing, but I could see the floor very well.
Hundreds of people stood, sat, or laid upon the ground. Those lying on the ground were wrapped in red cloaks. They hardly made a sound as we crept by. Like Neural and Divad, their skin was covered in red blotches. Some skin tones were lighter than others, but the shapes of the splotches were all the same: a filled red circle, smeared out around the edges. Every so often, one of them would let out a breath or sigh, but, other than that, the cavern was silent.
“The morb,” Divad replied less harshly than before. “Or, at least, that’s what we call it."
"It’s a disease that plagued Dunsque years ago," Neural continued, his eyes downcast. "It has since spread throughout our caves and into those of Trefair. Those that wear red cloaks tell us who are infected with the morb. All of those infected have also had their hearts extracted.”
My stomach lurched. “What?”
Neural let out a defeated sigh. “When the morb first infected my people, we noticed that the red clusters appeared on the skin above the infected’s heart. The disease takes the blood, or the life, out of a body. That’s why so many of the infected are pale, and their marks are bright red.”
I looked down at my own skin before folding my arms over my chest. Was I already infected?
Neural brushed a curl out of his eyes. “A traveling doctor from another realm said the same disease infected his home. He told us that if we extracted the heart of those infected, they would be healed. He showed us how.”
I pursed my lips. A traveling doctor?
“But it didn’t work,” I surmised, my shoulders deflating as I took in the abundance of red cloaks covering the cavern floor.
“The disease only grew more rampant as we extracted hearts, becoming impossible to contain in Dunsque,” Neural confessed, motioning to Divad, who was surveying the cavern.
“At the first cases of the morb, I contacted Neural,” Divad explained, his frown deepening. “Through many hours of research and experimentation on ourselves, we discovered that a sleeping draught prevented the morb from spreading as quickly.” Divad’s sharp eyes filled with regret. “Unfortunately, many have been under the draught for so long, the moment we'd wake them, the morb would consume their bodies, instantly killing them."
“Which is why we decided to group our people together,” Neural added. "We could tend to those who were still conscious but also look over those that were not."
“And two Magisters are better than one, right?” Divad asked gruffly. “We were chosen to protect them,” he said to no one, his face somber. “But they're dying, and there’s nothing we can do.”
“There is something we must confess,” Neural said, standing beside me, wringing his hands. “As we said before, the disease spreads quickly to all who enter our caves.”
He extended his hand and pointed to a far area of the cavern where I spotted Silas, James, Claire, and Lord Farmount. My breath caught, fear creeping into my heart when I saw only Silas and James seated upright. Claire and Lord Farmount laid motionless beside them, cloaked in red. I started toward them before Neural reached out and grabbed my arm.
"We injected each of you with the sleeping draught, hoping the morb hadn't reached you yet." Neural held out a tiny green dart with a black tip.
I rubbed my neck where it had hit before. "Yes, I remember. Thank you.”
Neural nodded and motioned to Silas and James at the back of the large cavern, leaning against the wall. James had his hand over Claire’s forehead while Silas sat next to him, his head bowed. I bolted over.
"Addie.” Silas stood, wrapping his arms around me. His strong embrace soothed my worries. As I pressed into him, his half-heart thumped against my cheek. “We were so worried.” He looked down at me, his eyes swimming with questions.
I rocked back, dread twisting my stomach into knots. Silas wasn't nearly as covered as some of the others, but splotches were forming on his neck. When I took his hand in mine, I saw another red mark forming.
“I met the Magisters of Dunsque and Trefair,” I explained. I gently ran the pads of my fingers over the splotch, studying the mark. “What happened?”
Silas sucked in a breath, keeping his focus on our hands. “All we remember is being around the fire, then blacking out before waking up here.” He watched my reaction as he said, “We don’t know how long it’s been, but judging by Farmount and Claire, we don’t have much time.”
I peered over Silas’s shoulder to find Lord Farmount’s body sprawled along the cold stone floor. His skin was so covered in dark red marks, I could barely recognize him. When I saw Claire next to him, my heart wrenched. Her face and hands were almost entirely red.
Squeezing Silas’s hand, I let go and moved to James’s side. James sat next to Lord Farmount, eyeing him closely before he rifled through Claire’s satchel on the ground. He pulled out a vial filled with purple leaves and placed them on the lord’s forehead.
“I’m glad you found us,” James said when I approached. I laid my hand on his back, noticing he only had one red patch on his arm.
“How is he?” I settled beside him before studying Lord Farmount. His eyes were closed, his chest barely moving. Placing a hand on the lord’s arm, I bowed my head. After leading them here, I couldn’t lose them. They were my responsibility.
“Not good,” James said, returning the vial to Claire’s satchel. He ran a hand through his speckled light-brown hair. “It seems the disease affects each person at a different speed. While Silas and I have barely any markings, Claire and Farmount are becoming more covered as we speak.”
As if in response, a new splotch made a home on Claire’s forehead.
“Why is it affecting you less?” I questioned.
James lit his hand with white light, then extended his fingers, allowing the light to fade into the air. “I think it has to do with the mark of the Mender. That’s why you, me, and Silas all woke up from the sleeping draught.”
“But Claire …”
“Doesn’t have his mark,” James interjected. “You gave her half of your heart so that she could survive. Eman can’t mend your heart within her. And Farmount is completely exposed.”
Biting my lip, I scanned the citizens of Dunsque and Trefair. There were too many red cloaks filling the cavern. If James's assumption was true, then what Eman had said was also true: the mark of the Mender was disappearing from our realm, leaving the people of Decim vulnerable and unprotected against Ophidian’s darkness.
“Ah, so you were telling the truth,” Divad said, towering over James and me with a smug grin. James rolled his shoulders as he stood. The air weighed with tension as the two Magisters faced one another.
“You must forgive my remarks from when I first saw you again, Dimitte,” Divad sneered, his long ponytail swishing behind him. “The last time we heard from you, you were selling your allegiance to our enemy.”
James’s hands balled into fists, white light lining them as he held them at his sides. The muscle in his neck corded as he clenched his jaw. Yet, just as I thought he would make a stand, he released the light and hung his head. Divad's grin turned vicious at the reaction, and his hands popped with white light.
Heat swirled around my fingers as my nose flared. I stood between the two Magisters, lifting my chin as I glowered at Divad. James had suffered in Ophidian’s Realm, and when he could’ve escaped, he stayed to help Lyle and me. I wouldn’t allow anyone to talk to my family like that.
The Magister’s smug expression faded into one of annoyance until he relented and retreated a few steps.
Snorting, I placed my hands on my hips. “Now, Neural said I was here because of the sick, but how can I help?”
Divad flicked an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder. “Neural believes in the prophecies of old, one of which claims a great warrior will come and save our lands from the darkness.”
While I was thankful for Neural’s faith in me, panic thundered through my veins. “Did he happen to mention how to save them?” I asked warily.
Divad lifted his shoulders. “If we knew that, we wouldn’t need your help.”
“But I don’t have any medical knowledge.” I gestured to Claire’s motionless body. “She would know what to do better than me.”
“Addie.” James touched my shoulder. “Remember, you're not alone. Eman knew what you had to do and has prepared you for it. If Claire was meant
to save these people, Eman would have given the task to her. But he gave it to you.”
I swallowed my fear and nodded, remembering what Eman had given me in Ramni. Reaching into my satchel, I grabbed the brown book.
“Apparently, Eman thinks you’re the prophesied one, too,” Divad said, pointing to the book. “Not many are allowed to take his books outside of Ramni.”
The book from Lyle’s room shot through my mind. If it was also a text from Eman’s library, how had it traveled from Ramni to Barracks?
“As you probably know by now,” James explained stiffly, regaining his confidence, “Divad has been mended by Eman and healed by the realm of Ramni.”
Divad flipped his cloak over his shoulder and bowed. “I must return to my people,” he said as he straightened. He cast a snide smile at James. “Don’t go wandering off, Dimitte.”
James muttered a few choice words as I shuffled back to Silas.
“Let’s hope you have an answer,” I said to the book. Settling next to Silas, I noted that the splotches on Claire had doubled. The skin surrounding the red spots was beginning to pale, making the red stand out more.
“Are you okay?” I asked Silas as he absentmindedly rubbed his own blotched hands.
"I'm just praying we figure this out, and fast."
Anxiety tightened my chest as the splotches spread to his forearms. Crisscrossing my legs, I opened the pages, laying the book flat on my lap. I had to figure this out.
Will you figure it out in time?
"What does it say?" Silas asked.
I peered down, my heart dropping. "It's not saying anything."
There were no words that greeted me, no cryptic sayings. Only a red page.
"What do you mean?" Silas leaned over, his shoulder rubbing mine. I didn’t move away. The smell of cedarwood wafted between us, and I forced myself to focus on what Silas was saying. "Has it always been that color?"
Diverting my attention to the book, I shook my head. "No. I'm not sure what it means."
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