Untethered

by KayLynn Flanders

  “Mari, no!” Chiara held her hand out. I held her back, hating myself. But Chiara couldn’t do anything—none of us could.

  Brownlok glared at Redalia, but gave a tight nod. “Her power has kept me from fading like Graymere within Koranth.”

  Redalia trailed a finger down her golden dagger. “Do not keep secrets, Brownlok. It doesn’t become you.”

  He bowed his head, his face now a mask of indifference. He hadn’t told her about making the artifact. What was his endgame?

  Mari stopped fighting, though tears ran down her cheeks in muddy tracks. Chiara sagged against me, shaking. My feet moved like tree trunks had been chained to them. I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t watch as the mages hurt and killed us, one by one.

  “Let’s hope you can get us safely through,” Redalia sneered to Jenna and Enzo, and Mari whimpered again.

  Jenna nodded to me, and I swallowed and took my first careful step into the expanse leading to the door.

  “Any clues in the poem about what happens after the falling doors?” I whispered to Chiara, partly to distract her, partly in hopes that she’d think up some way to keep us from marching to our demise. “Say it for me again?”

  She repeated it loud enough for Jenna and Enzo to hear as well, but nothing came to mind that would be helpful against rock monsters.

  The remains of the huge doors loomed in front of us, edges crumbled from the impact. We climbed up the broken pieces and continued over the cracked surface.

  The sun beat against us mercilessly, and the ground shimmered as though we were walking on a cook fire, amplifying and rebounding against us.

  The red monoliths stayed in their places. Whether because of Jenna’s ring, or the key, or our relationship to Kais, I didn’t know.

  The next door we’d have to cross had only two markings. There was a circular indentation in the rock, and a slit right next to it, a few inches in length. And even though I faced my imminent demise, a tiny spark started in me.

  This was it. The Mages’ Library—the ultimate treasure. A place of legends and bedtime stories. Stories my mother told often because I’d begged her to.

  I caught Chiara watching me, and I lifted my chin—no wink, but I grinned. A real one. This was a place my ancestors had made with Turia’s ancient queen. A place no one had found since its creation.

  If we were going to die, it might as well be here, and it might as well be big. I’d make sure I took out as much as I could when it was my turn.

  Chiara’s lips trembled, and she lifted her chin, too.

  Jenna’s hand paused over the markings. “Any magic?”

  Enzo shook his head. There was no handle, no lever, no discernible entry point in the door, just the barest slit forming a rectangle in the wall of rock.

  But the circle was about the correct size for the ring and Medallion.

  “I think…” I swallowed against the sand coating my throat as Brownlok and Redalia pressed closer. “Shall we try the Medallion and ring?”

  Redalia’s focus barely wavered from the door, but she gave a tight nod.

  I rubbed my hand against my trousers, then took the key from around my neck and rested it in the indentation. The chip in the ring aligned with a marking, and what I’d thought were maker marks on the back fit snugly into the rock. Just like a key.

  A hiss emanated from the rock, and as I pressed, the key sank deeper into the rock, as if it were clay and not stone.

  I held my breath, but nothing happened. At least the door hadn’t fallen on us.

  “Well?” Redalia snapped, jerking Mari’s arm.

  I pushed against the wall. That should have worked. The marks on the Medallion…

  Brownlok stood with folded arms, staring at Jenna.

  “She knows,” he said.

  Jenna bit her lip and closed her eyes. “It’s Kais’s sword,” she murmured.

  Redalia drew her dagger and had it at Mari’s throat before I’d even blinked. “Do not say his name,” she hissed at Jenna.

  We all stood frozen, unwilling to move and endanger Mari any further. Jenna went completely rigid, staring at Mari with the knife at her throat.

  I raised my hands, palms out. “She didn’t know.” Though I should have guessed. Redalia had thought I looked like Kais, but never said his name. She’d wanted me, because he’d rejected her.

  Redalia lowered her knife, but didn’t sheath it.

  Jenna shook her head a little, as if shaking away a memory, and slid her sword into the slit in the door.

  Nothing happened.

  Her shoulders dropped. “I thought surely…”

  I pulled the sword out and inserted it again. Enzo tried, with the same result: nothing. When Chiara stepped up to it, she gripped the handle and attempted to turn it.

  It grated, but she was able to twist the sword all the way around. As she did, the artifacts next to it turned, a small clicking noise marking its progress.

  “Glaciers,” Jenna murmured, and I nodded in agreement.

  When the sword had gone a full circle, the door slid backward, dust and dirt cascading down as stone grated against stone. A whoosh of cool air blasted into my face.

  “Mortals first,” Redalia said, her dagger resting on Mari’s shoulder.

  We’d failed.

  Chiara

  Enzo went through first to scout for more enchantments, then Ren. My heart stopped when they stepped through the doorway into the shadows beyond. Jenna motioned for me to go next.

  The wall was at least two feet thick, and perfectly smooth. A cavern opened ahead of us, lit by tiny holes in the ceiling, like stars mimicking the night sky. The cavern floor was smooth, gray rock. In the very center stood a palace with a circular foundation, unconnected to any other part of the cavern. Its walls, carved intricately from the foundation to the top of the domed roof, shone like black glass.

  The Black Library.

  I’d done it. I’d gotten us to the Black Library. It would have been a thrilling achievement if it didn’t also mean our deaths.

  We’d almost reached the end of our usefulness.

  Ren’s hand slipped into mine. The others filed in behind us. A tiny shaft of light illuminated a door in the shiny black rock.

  “There are more enchantments between here and the next door. Step where I step, and be careful,” Enzo said.

  “What are you waiting for?” Redalia asked, delighted. “Go.”

  We made our way carefully to the door of the library, matching Enzo step for step. This door had only one indentation, small and circular. Jenna pressed her ring into it, but kept the ring on her finger. The door opened with a gentle rasp. We crowded in, the mages right behind us.

  Inside was like no library I’d ever seen. One great, circular room rose around us with a huge firepit in the middle. And, odd though it was, a bright fire crackled merrily from the center of the low stone wall containing it. The room was mostly bare of furniture, only a small table near the fire, with two chairs tucked neatly into it.

  The walls were made up of shelves. Filled shelves. Carved from the same black rock as the edifice, the shelves scaled all the way to the domed ceiling. Scrolls filled one entire section, leather-bound books another, and across the cavernous room, yet another section had been devoted to jars of all heights and widths, colors and clarity, stoppers still in place, as though time hadn’t touched this place.

  Redalia and Brownlok focused to the left of the fire, on a section holding objects of all types and sizes, everything from a mace to clay pottery to necklaces and jewels. Even a shovel rested against one shelf. And not a speck of dust on any of it.

  Should I try to beat them to the shelves? Stay and escape through the door?

  Redalia brushed by us, still holding tight to Mari, and the door option fizzled away.

  Ren took a
few more steps into the room, following the mages, frantically searching for the artifacts that they wanted.

  “Where is it?” Redalia muttered. She moved objects on the shelves, starting at the ground and moving upward, growing more and more frustrated. She uttered a word I’d never heard before, and swept her arm across a shelf, scattering its contents onto the floor. A large plate shattered into tiny pieces.

  She held Mari tight, her dagger at Mari’s neck again. “Come away from the door,” she commanded without looking at us, and my feet moved of their own accord, step after step, until I stood a pace away from the fire. The others followed, even Jenna, though I had no idea whether the magic affected them the same way.

  My throat ached for water. Everyone scanned the shelves for the staff and sword. I was the only one in the room with no magic. What had I been thinking?

  The heat from the fire singed my clothes and hair. Once I realized the magic had released me, I stepped away from it. I caught sight of something—two somethings—resting against the table, leaning against it like someone had left them there but was planning to return.

  A long silver sword, and an even longer black staff.

  My mouth dried out and my heart beat painfully against my ribs.

  Redalia squinted at me, then followed my gaze. I couldn’t even shout a warning, couldn’t move. She saw what I’d seen, and glided to the table. She sheathed her knife, picked up Graymere’s blade and tossed it to Brownlok, then took the black staff with the hand that wasn’t holding Mari.

  There was no magical wind, no bright light, but when Redalia laughed in delight, the tiny flicker of hope I hadn’t realized I’d been clinging to so desperately went out.

  Redalia and Brownlok held more power in their hands than the entire Plateau combined.

  “I’ve done it, Brownlok!” She lifted her face toward the ceiling and inhaled deeply, then faced the rest of us. “Now you will pay for what Kais did to me, to all of us,” she said quietly, though one eye twitched when she said his name. Her hair flowed down her back and she glowed with life. “I will kill all of you, and then I’ll kill your families. The world will be mine.”

  Mari whimpered at her side, and Redalia grabbed her by the hair. “You want an artifact?” she said to Brownlok. “Go ahead. Kill her with Graymere’s sword and take both their powers for your own. We’ll be unstoppable.”

  No.

  I tried to leap toward Mari, but my feet wouldn’t move. Couldn’t. Redalia’s eyes found mine, and she smirked.

  Mari’s brows tipped down, and she grabbed her hair, trying to ease Redalia’s grip. Her tears had stopped. She didn’t speak to Redalia, but to Brownlok. “Erron…you’re my friend,” she said, her voice hoarse. “You said I was your friend.”

  He gripped the sword tighter, jaw set. As he held it, he sharpened into focus just like Koranth had.

  Redalia laughed. “You know nothing, child. He’s waited for this as long as I have.” She grinned at him, feral and lust-filled. “You can have everything you desire.”

  “Erron,” Mari pled with him as he stalked closer to Redalia. “Wait. Please—”

  Redalia muttered a word under her breath, and Mari’s voice stopped, though her mouth continued to plead. Brownlok ignored her, studying the long silver blade in his hand instead.

  Something flew at him from the side of the library, but it evaporated into nothing with a flick of Redalia’s staff. Enzo’s hand dropped. He’d thrown something from a shelf.

  There was nothing we could do against such power, yet I couldn’t let this happen. Not to Mari.

  I fell to my knees. “Please, Brownlok—Erron,” I cried. “Please, not my sister.”

  He flinched.

  Please.

  I couldn’t watch. Couldn’t turn away from the impending horror. I should never have come. Should have stayed home. I’d be useless, but alive. Everyone would be.

  Mari reached out and grabbed the shovel that rested against the shelf, then swung it. Redalia, more stunned at the sudden impact than injured by it, shoved Mari away so hard she slid across the ground and slammed into a shelf.

  Mari’s chest rose and fell, her wild curls tumbling around her. Brownlok stared at her, impassive, but didn’t go after her.

  Redalia pressed the staff into the floor, and a crystal embedded in the top—so black I hadn’t noticed it at first—began to glow. Rivulets of light trickled down the walls, through the floor, and up into her staff as if she were drawing power from the very stone.

  Jenna stared at Enzo, hard, then at Ren. A muscle in Ren’s jaw twitched, and he gave a nod. I wished I were against the wall with Mari, somewhere I wouldn’t be in the way of whatever they were planning. Because they were communicating something, I just didn’t know what.

  Useless.

  My knees shook, and I wished I was wearing a skirt to hide them, to give any semblance of normalcy to these last moments. I wished I had one more minute alone with my friends, my family. But as I scrambled to think of what I would tell them, a small comfort came: they knew I loved them. There was nothing to say that they didn’t already know.

  Jenna made her move, so fast it took me a moment to realize what had happened. She blinked out of sight as Enzo wrapped his arms around me and pulled me back, diving behind the fire. My skin slicked with sweat almost instantly.

  “I lied about the enchantments in the cave,” he whispered. “If you have the chance to run and warn the Plateau, take it.”

  He’d lied about—

  Jenna blinked back in at the wall, tossing a knife from the shelf to Ren with one hand and swinging the mace at Brownlok—at his sword. Brownlok dodged the blow, twisted, and cut clean through the mace’s handle, sending the spiked ball scraping against the floor straight at Enzo and me. I dove one way, Enzo dove the other. A deep trail of gouges marred the floor in the mace’s wake.

  Jenna went low and drove her shoulder into Brownlok’s stomach. Shoved him back, right where Ren was waiting. Ren slammed the hilt of his knife into Brownlok’s wrist. The sword clattered to the ground, and Ren grabbed Brownlok, holding his blade against the mage’s neck.

  Redalia only smirked and pointed her staff at Jenna. Jenna squeezed her eyes shut and held up her ring. Redalia frowned and took the staff in both hands. Jenna’s arms shook, and she began to scream.

  “You forget that Graymere didn’t have his artifact. I have two,” Redalia snarled. “You are no match for me. None of you are!”

  “Stop!” Ren shouted. “Or I’ll kill him!”

  Redalia shrugged. “More artifacts for me.” She prowled closer to Jenna. But Jenna flickered out of sight. Redalia’s face twisted into a scowl. She angled the staff toward me, but then Jenna was there, right next to her, lifting Redalia’s gold dagger away.

  Jenna twisted the dagger, gripping its hilt, moving to strike. But then she froze. Her eyes widened, and she stumbled away, hand still clenched around the dagger.

  Redalia’s laugh echoed through the chamber. She lowered the staff so it rested by her side, giving her full attention to Jenna, who was now writhing on the ground, alternating between screaming and moaning.

  Enzo lunged toward Jenna. He kicked the dagger out of her hand, and dragged her farther from Redalia, who watched it all gleefully.

  “You think you have any hope of survival?” She raised her hand to the shelves with jars and clenched it into a fist. The jars exploded, filling the air with a thousand scents. The heat of the fire evaporated any liquid before it reached me. “You cannot wield my dagger.”

  I inched around the fire. Mari sat up against the shelf, groggy but alive. Enzo held Jenna against his chest. There was nowhere to run. Redalia was willing to sacrifice Brownlok. We had no leverage.

  She was right.

  In all the stories I’d ever read, good triumphed over evil. But real life wasn’t a
story. My ending wouldn’t be a happy one. And there was nothing I could do about it—I didn’t stand a chance against a mage.

  I’d lived my whole life being invisible. Fearing to be seen and rejected.

  I wouldn’t die hiding. Wouldn’t run away.

  So I stood.

  Ren drew my gaze. He always had. He still held Brownlok at knifepoint, despite Redalia’s nonchalance. But he stared at the gold dagger on the ground near his feet.

  “Oh yes, young king,” Redalia purred. “Take the dagger. Now is your chance.” She laughed again. “You are always trying to save everyone else, but who, dear Atháren, will save you?”

  Ren would take the dagger, try to wield it. But he would fail, just as Jenna had. Redalia would kill all of us—if we were lucky—and then she’d leave this cavern and unleash her power on the world.

  My father would die without remembering any of us.

  Ren stared at the dagger, but Brownlok stared at me. His chin tipped down, an infinitesimal nod.

  Mari had trusted him. He had to be a powerful mage to have survived so long without Graymere’s power keeping him here. More powerful than Redalia?

  We had no more options. No more chances.

  I willed Ren to look at me, to see me. One heartbeat, two, then, miraculously, his eyes found mine. Everything in me said this was the right course, our only hope. And if it was incorrect, well, it wasn’t like they could kill us twice. I didn’t think.

  Let go, I mouthed.

  Ren didn’t move, though the gold dagger lay so close, taunting him as much as Redalia.

  I swallowed and resisted the urge to wipe the sweat running from my hair down my temples. Trust me, I mouthed.

  Trust yourself, I added silently. He didn’t need the Medallion to make the right choice, or any magic to aid him. He was enough, with or without it. I knew it, I only hoped he knew it as well.

  Then his arms came away from Brownlok, and he stepped back.

  Brownlok didn’t reach for the gold dagger. He didn’t wield it or give it to Ren. Instead, he kicked it.