Everyone seemed cranky and irritable, but they kept peace until they approached the Southern Pass through the Janus Mountains. A garrison of Reds guarded the pass, and Magnus sat up eagerly.
“We should stop at the gate and gather reinforcements,” he said, sitting beside Sephi on the driver’s seat.
“That’s not happening,” Sephi said. “We’ll go through and head directly to the palace.”
He scowled at her. “Are you suicidal? We should head to the tower with an army at our backs so we can smash through any resistance we encounter.”
“I said no.” Sephi had been thinking about their return a lot on their journey. “We have no idea who we can trust in the Cradle. I would make all of us invisible and sneak through if the enchanted gates didn’t make that impossible.”
He scoffed. “You’re being paranoid. The Black Soul has clouded your judgment.”
She turned to shoot him an angry look. “The Heretic’s soul is the only reason we know where we’re going, and it’s not like I wanted him to come along, bound to me. But whatever, spies are obviously lurking in the Cradle, and I don’t want anyone to know where we’re headed.”
“The garrison will send word of our arrival to the Council,” he said. “They’ll know we’re back within hours.”
“Well, I’ll take whatever extra time we can get,” she said, flicking the reins to speed Princess up to a trot.
“And how can you be so sure the Occultum has spies in the Citadel?” he asked.
“Because they knew exactly where we were going and when we would be there,” she said, turning her attention back to the road in front of them. “We had someone following us in the forest on our way to Francisco. And we had a damn Occultum army swarm down on us at the Valley. I refuse to believe that was a coincidence.”
“Then let me send a message to Minerva for aid,” he said. “I’ll use a cipher so the message can’t be read by anyone but her.”
“Minerva might be compromised,” Sephi said.
“Minerva? Her reputation for fighting the Occultum is legendary.”
“I know,” Sephi said. “But right now, that doesn’t matter to me. I don’t trust anyone.”
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “We can contact the Inquisitors then. They’re good at keeping secrets. It’s what they do.”
“I trust those shady fuckers even less than Minerva,” Sephi said.
“What about your grandmother? Surely, you trust her.”
Sephi nodded. “Yes, for all her faults, I can’t imagine she would help the Occultum. Even still, I won’t risk it.”
“Why are you being so hardheaded about this?”
She turned to face him. “Because if the Occultum figures out where we’re going, then cursing my blade and binding myself to the Black Soul was all for nothing. I paid a heavy price for this information, and I’m not just going to give it away to our enemies freely.”
“Going to the tower alone is a mistake,” Magnus said. “Who knows what we’ll encounter there?”
“I’m sure it will be just as pleasant as the rest of this journey,” she said, sighing. “But we’ve made it this far on our own. We just have to make it a little further.”
Magnus shook his head. “Are you sure you don’t just want the Whispers for yourself?”
“What the fuck did you just say?” she asked, her brows pulling in tight as heat rose up her chest.
He held up his palms. “Not you, but the Heretic I mean. Is it possible he’s planted this idea in your head so he can get them for himself?”
Sephi’s anger faded, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness. “Anything is possible, I guess. We’re navigating uncharted waters here. But my logic is sound. Someone has been working against us behind the scenes at the Citadel. Maybe they’re on the Council. Maybe they’re not. Either way, we have to keep this as quiet as possible. We’ll figure out the rest if we ever make it back.”
Magnus stopped arguing, although he didn’t look totally convinced. Sephi herself wasn’t exactly sure if he was right about the Heretic influencing her. She had been keeping his voice muted for most of the trip home, but she could feel his presence inside her like an oily fog, bubbling just beneath her consciousness.
Cris had warned her the Heretic might affect her mood. Was it possible he could affect her decision making as well?
If so, it was all the more reason to get this quest over with. Then she could figure out how to rid herself, and the world, of this evil bastard. Then she could be done with the Council, the Occultum, and all of their petty schemes. Then she could get her life back.
She never wanted to be involved in any of this. She didn’t care about power or the battle between good and evil. All she wanted was to see her parents again, but that goal had never seemed more out of reach.
Although if she could retrieve the Whispers, maybe she could do more than just visit her parents in the afterlife. Maybe she wouldn’t need anyone else’s help to travel between Realms. Or maybe the magic they contained would allow her to bring them back to life, reversing the biggest mistake she’d ever made, healing her deepest regret.
The First Mage’s magic was beyond anything her own people could do. With that kind of power at her fingertips, there was no telling the feats she could accomplish. All of Esper would kneel at her feet.
She shook her head and clamped down on her racing thoughts, which were almost certainly not her own. Maybe Magnus was right about the Heretic planting thoughts in her head.
Hey, dickhead. Stay out of my brain.
The Heretic’s mad laughter echoed in her skull. A smile crept onto her face, and she closed off the connection before she started laughing right along with him.
They passed through the gate without incident. Despite his earlier protests, Magnus said nothing to the other Reds who waved them through. Then they were back in the Cradle.
The Citadel hung like a mirage in the sky. Even though she hadn’t lived there for years, it had never felt less like home than in that moment. She turned the cart northeast, heading toward the mountains where Zekariah’s abandoned palace glittered like a jewel in the midday sun.
The Council had sealed the gates to the palace long ago, and entry was forbidden. Breaking a few rules had never stopped her before, but she didn’t know how to get inside. Taking a deep breath, she opened the connection with the Heretic and braced herself for crazy.
Rise and shine, Heretic.
I have no need for sleep.
By the way, do you have a name? I feel like an idiot referring to you as Heretic all the time.
I have no name. Cristoval stripped that from me when he imprisoned me, branding me the Heretic of Viscayne. It was meant to be a badge of shame, but I wear it proudly, having earned it through fire and blood. I shall remain the Heretic until I escape this prison. Only then will the world know my true name, whispering it in fear on trembling lips as I lay waste to everything they hold dear.
Okay, okay. Sorry I asked. Listen, how do we get in to the palace? The gates are sealed.
As they were in my time. But in my research, I devised a clever method of entry.
She frowned. Like a spell?
No, I discovered a hidden side door.
Oh. That doesn’t sound very clever to me.
Do you know where it is?
No.
Then fuck you. It’s clever. Just get me to the palace steps, and I shall guide you.
Is there any way you can just tell me how to get in? I’d rather not have to talk to you. Offense intended.
Shall I draw you a map? With my hands? That I don’t have? You thickheaded harlot. If I still had my mushrooms—
She quieted his voice, shivering at the feeling of corruption inside her. She hoped he would run out of steam by the time they reached the palace gates. Every time he babbled insanely, she became uneasy, like some of his madness was infectious.
She looked back over her shoulder to address her friends. “All right, kid
s. Next stop, Zekariah’s palace.”
Chapter 16
They ascended the steps of the palace, their shadows long in front of them in the light of the afternoon sun. Sephi had sent Princess trundling back to the Undershadow on her own. The buru knew the way.
The castle’s towering golden walls looked like one enormous slab of metal, as if the First Mage had bled the veins of the mountain all at once. Something this massive could only have been crafted with the First Magic, and Sephi assumed that was the only reason the palace still stood after thousands of years.
“You know, as a kid, I always wanted to explore this place,” she said. “I daydreamed about what I might find inside.”
“Have you always been drawn to the forbidden?” Magnus asked.
She shrugged. “Come on. Haven’t you ever wondered what kind of amazing things are hidden behind these walls?”
“Not really,” he said. “The man who built it was so greedy for power, he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.”
The Heretic murmured his approval.
“Sure,” Sephi said. “Zekariah was a bit of a turd, but if the outside is this grand, the inside has to be mind-blowing.”
“I wonder why no one has chipped away the walls for the gold,” Echo said.
“Come on, enchanter,” Sephi said. “I’m sure this place has so many wards on it, we couldn’t even drill a nugget off.”
Echo leaned in to get a closer look at the wall, which was embedded with a swirling filigree. “There’s a pattern here, but it appears to be decorative. I don’t see any sigils. Oh, maybe he inverted the patterns so no one could figure out how to break through them. That’s what I would have done, anyway.”
“That’s what the Council did when they sealed the entrances,” Magnus said, pointing at the hulking stone doors in front of them. “Which is why I don’t know how we expect to get in. What does the Heretic say?”
Heretic?
Those puckered old buttholes on the Council couldn’t seal a door they couldn’t find.
How can you be sure they never found it?
Because the only way to find it is by opening the artifact. At least, that is my understanding. If they sealed that door, too, you’re shit out of luck.
Fine, lead the way.
He directed her along the left side of the wall, counting her paces as she went. Steady, you cow. Even strides.
She gritted her teeth and hid her frustration from him. They were almost in. She didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize their entry now.
After two hundred steps, the Heretic told her to stop. The wall here didn’t look any different from the rest of it. The same swooping flourishes graced the golden surface, and she couldn’t see anything remotely resembling a door.
The door should be near here. Splash some water on the facade to reveal the entry mechanism.
Water? That’s all it takes. I guess no one looked for this entrance when it was raining, then?
Water will only help you see what’s hidden. It won’t get you inside.
“All right, grab your canteens, people,” she said. “Pour water on the wall, and I guess something will appear.”
All four of them dutifully splashed their drinking water over the nearby portions of the wall, making the metal gleam in the sunlight. About twenty feet back the way they came, Echo called out triumphantly. “We’ve got something.”
They gathered around the section of wall she pointed at. The water had revealed a hidden image in the pattern. A man stood with his arms spread wide in front of a kneeling mass of people, like he was blessing them. Behind him, a colossal mountain shot flames from its peak.
She assumed the benevolent figure was the First Mage. The etching had to be a depiction of Zekariah’s journey to Earth, where he offered a choice to the inhabitants of Thera on the Isle of Crete; perish in the volcanic eruption, or come with him to Esper and swear fealty to him.
He never told them he had caused the volcano to erupt. Nor did he warn them that fealty meant slavery. Thousands chose to follow him. They were the ancestors of everyone in the Cradle.
Every mage child heard that story growing up, to teach them of the First Mage’s treachery. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised that in his depiction of the story, he looked like a benevolent hero.
Okay, what now? I’m not seeing a door.
Press the symbols in the following order. The peak, the mage, the soaring bird, the farthest peasant on the left, and the farthest on the right.
This seems unnecessarily complicated.
What’s the point of a secret door if just anyone can walk through it? Besides, I’m sure most visitors to the palace simply used the front gates. This was never meant to be the main entrance.
She pressed the symbols in the order he had dictated. The metal didn’t give when she touched it. None of the symbols lit up or made a sound. But when she pressed the last one, a paper-thin seam appeared in the wall, forming a door-shaped arch.
The gold darkened to a black iron door with a ring for a handle.
You’re welcome.
She ignored him, too focused on how fast her heart galloped in her chest. “This is it, guys. We’ll finally get to see inside the palace walls. The first people in thousands of years to do so. You’ll be telling your kids about what we’re about to see.”
She reached out with a trembling hand and pulled the door open. Shadows greeted her on the other side, and she stepped through, holding her breath.
Dazzling crystal chandeliers, delicate silk tapestries, and intricately carved furniture, Sephi found none of these things. Instead, she entered what looked like a storage room.
Four dusty stone walls encapsulated the claustrophobic space. The musty smell of old soil filled the air, and a few old crates sat stacked in a corner, along with a shovel.
As the others crowded in behind her, she shook her head in disgust. “Well, this was disappointing.”
Echo laughed. “Oh, I’ll definitely be telling my kids about this moment. And how funny your face looked after giving that big speech.”
“Whatever,” Sephi said. “This is just the secret entrance. We’re still heading into the palace.”
Prepare for more disappointment. Our path takes us out into the garden, not inside the palace itself.
Son of a bitch, you could have warned me. That way, I wouldn’t have made a big deal about everything like an asshole.
“Okay, scratch that,” she said. “Apparently, we’re just going into the backyard.”
She pushed open the only other door in the room and emerged into something out of a dream.
A polished obsidian path wound its way through a grove of enchanted trees. Their overhanging limbs hung so heavy with flowers that the branches formed an arched tunnel over the walkway. The bell-shaped blossoms were a deep purple, dappled with white luminescent spots, and the smooth black stone reflected the flowers with such clarity, the world seemed to double in on itself.
Sephi stepped onto the path, and it was like walking on the night sky. As she moved beneath the twinkling canopy, her reflection blotted out stars in a Sephi-shaped pattern, like she was her own constellation moving through the heavens.
She reached up to touch one of the gorgeous flowers.
I wouldn’t do that.
Her hand froze. Why not?
The servants apparently called this place the Devil’s Garden. Any humans brought here never returned.
Because the plants killed them?
Probably because they were taken to the tower to be experimented on. Still, these flowers are poison to the touch. Don’t let the beauty of this place deceive you. Sometimes, the prettiest things are the most deadly.
Aww, are you talking about me?
No, you imbecile. I was referring to myself, back when I had a face to admire, that is.
You couldn’t just let me have that one?
I just saved you from an agonizing death. Is your vanity so great, you value it more than your
life?
You’re one to talk.
Please. The only thing that exceeds my genius is my humility.
Uh huh. Why did you save me anyway?
I would like to see the Whispers before I watch you die.
Sure. I think you’re warming up to me.
On second thought, I’m sure I was mistaken. These aren’t the Death Bells described in the artifact. Touching them won’t liquefy your flesh to a quivering mound of jelly. In fact, gather a bouquet so your friends can lay it on your grave before joining you.
Okay, okay. Message received.
“Don’t touch anything,” she cautioned the others. “These flowers are deadly apparently.”
She left out the part about being in the Devil’s Garden. Everyone’s nerves were jagged enough without that little tidbit of information adding to their anxiety.
They walked along the path, careful not to let any of the drooping flowers get too close. Sephi was just thankful it wasn’t a windy day, or else the swaying trees would shower them in a deadly rain of petals.
She emerged from the grove into a field of green. Huge shrubs had been trimmed in the shape of legendary creatures, and all of them were moving. A leafy green dragon lashed its tail and flapped its wings with a rustle of leaves. Beside it, a massive wolf with gold flowers for eyes threw its head back in a silent howl, like it was welcoming the moon just visible in the golden sky.
The living topiary had other creatures, but one in particular drew her attention. On the edge of the garden by the palace wall, a man-sized figure with hooves for feet and horns on its head danced nimbly in a small circle. The beastman looked exactly like the creature who had been following her through Duskwood Forest, albeit made of leaves.
So she hadn’t been crazy after the hell the night mare put her through. The beastman had been real, and clearly, Zekariah himself knew of their existence.
Everything surrounding her had been crafted from the First Magic. The fact that the garden still looked well manicured and the shrub creatures still moved was evidence of that. Regular magic could not accomplish such feats.
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