by Hall, Linsey
Shite. They would sink. Their boat was no match for the unnatural magic that haunted this place.
With a glance at Esha to determine that she was alright, he yelled, “We’re getting out of here!”
“No!” Esha screamed and threw a bolt of flame at the water beast. It shrieked and steam rose off its surface. Esha cast a bigger flash of fire at it. It evaporated, vapor sizzling and filling the cave with a steam that burned his lungs.
To hell with this. With the waves crashing and the steam filling the cave, this place was nearly as dangerous as it had been. He yanked the lever to reverse the engine, but before he could back out, a huge wave picked up the small vessel and threw it at the cave wall. Fear for Esha nearly sent his heart through his chest. He charged at her. Just as the boat was about to crash into the great stone wall, he dragged her to the deck and curved his body around hers to protect her.
He braced himself, praying to the god he no longer worshiped to protect them. But instead of the thundering crash he expected, the boat sailed gracefully down upon the wave.
“Get off me.” Esha pushed at him. She was soaked and still choking on seawater, but she stumbled to her feet.
What the hell? Frowning, he released her and stood. He spun in a three-sixty, taking in the giant cavern they’d entered. The boat floated in a small pond in the center, phosphorescence in the water illuminating the walls made of octagonal pillars. If he squinted back the way they’d come, he could just make out a shadow of light from the entrance to Fingal’s Cave. The steam was gone, along with the water beast. A quick survey of the boat revealed that the rails and part of the sides were nearly crushed, but it was still seaworthy. Barely.
“What the hell was that?” he asked.
“Protective magic.” She scraped her wet hair off her face, then leaned over and coughed, no doubt trying to get the seawater out of her lungs. After a few heaving breaths, she stood. “It activated when we neared the entrance. I didn’t think I’d manage to stop it.”
“You were quick, though.” They’d have been dead if she hadn’t been. “Good work.”
“No. Good luck. I didn’t know what would defeat it. But it sure as hell confirmed we’re in the right place.”
“Aye. But doona scare me like that again. I thought you were going to crash into the stone wall.”
“I can take care of myself.” She spun to take in the cave, a look of awe and apprehension on her face. The cat was leaning out of the boat, batting at the phosphorescence and no longer concerned about threats.
“Is this the howf?”
“No, it’s the entrance. It was once part of Fingal’s Cave, but it was enchanted to keep it hidden. It gives us the time and secrecy we need to find the howf.”
“Why the hell did you no’ tell me we’d be crashing through an imaginary wall on a giant wave you’d be conjuring?”
“I figured you’d be able to see through the illusion, since you’re a Mythean. I guess you’re not the right kind of Mythean.”
He frowned. But it was true. There was nothing right about him. He caught her looking at him and shook the thoughts away. Carefully, he steered the boat toward the shore that looked the best for landing. When they ran up onto the pebble beach, the Chairman was the first to hop out, followed by Esha. While she explored the huge cavern, Warren tied the boat off to one of the rock pillars.
“Start looking for anything out of the ordinary,” Esha called, her voice echoing off the soaring stone walls.
Warren glanced around at the phosphorescent pool and the octagonal pillars. The whole bloody place was out of the ordinary.
After twenty minutes of climbing over the pillars and searching the walls, something finally seemed odder than the place itself.
“Esha, come here,” he said, not bothering to speak up since sound traveled so easily here. He heard her approaching, could even hear the padding footsteps of the cat, but he kept his eyes on the faint letters etched into the wall, afraid that if he looked away he wouldn’t find them again.
“What’d you find?” Esha stopped next to him. He gestured to the writing. “Wow.”
“Can you read it?” He couldn’t tell what language it was.
“No. But what’s below it?”
His eyes flicked down, and he noticed a hand-shaped carving in the stone. It was rust colored. “That’s blood.”
“Damn.” Esha reached for her tall boot and withdrew a slender dagger. “It’s got to be part of the magic that allows one to read the writing. A sacrifice.”
“Wait.” He grabbed her hand, pulled the dagger free. “Let me.”
“No.”
“I’ll do it. You’ve done enough.”
She frowned, her eyes darkening with something like worry, then nodded. He sliced his palm, a long incision that stung like hell, then pressed his hand to the wall. The ground beneath his feet rumbled ominously, then began to crack apart, the stone heaving toward the ceiling.
“Shit!” Esha cried, and stumbled backward.
He grabbed her before she fell off the pillar upon which they stood, but it continued to rise as the ground around them cracked and rumbled.
“Give me the dagger!” Esha grabbed it from his hand and sliced her palm, then trust her hand against the stone wall. The shifting stone beneath their feet ground to a halt, then slowly returned to normal. The Chairman hissed, then returned to batting at the water of the pool.
“Why did it start? Hell, why did it stop?” Warren asked.
“Because you aren’t a soulceress. Your blood was all wrong. I should have seen it coming. Stupid.”
“It’s fine now.” She’d saved their asses twice now.
“For now.” She glanced at the letters carved in the stone. “Good news is, I can read the writing.”
“And?” He glanced around at the stone, confirming that it was no longer moving.
“It’s a riddle. There be more of we upon these walls, too hard to find once darkness falls. Light from magic will reveal, the secrets that we do conceal.”
“More of we?” Warren asked.
“Yeah. And, darkness falls? It’s always dark here, except for the phosphorescence in the water that lights the place up a bit.”
“Are you sure you got the translation right?”
She punched him on the arm. “Yeah. It wasn’t like I had to work at it. I just knew it. That’s definitely what it says. Is we more soulceresses?”
“Or more letters. Another message.”
“There’s no way we’ll find them, especially if they’re high up.” She craned her neck back to search the ceiling and higher walls. “Is that what the light is for?”
Warren shrugged. “Give one of those fireballs you like so much a try.”
They were her signature, after all. He rubbed his cheek, recalling the wound she’d given him a few weeks ago by flinging a fireball in his direction when he’d snuck up on her in the underground.
Esha held out her right hand, palm up, and a small ball of fire ignited from thin air. She flung it up into the cavern and it flew slowly about the room, illuminating the walls and ceiling where the light of the glowing pond didn’t reach. For the first few minutes, he only saw more pillars. Esha’s scowl confirmed that she was having as little luck.
“There,” he said, pointing to a far corner of the room, about halfway up the wall. It was still a good dozen meters off the ground, however.
“I see it,” Esha said. “But I can’t read it. Even if I got below it, I think it would be too small.” A sound of frustration escaped her as she smashed the fireball into the wall.
“Hey! Doona hurt the image.”
But the letters briefly glowed, their lines distinct from the dark wall into which they were carved.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Whoa,” Esha said, her eyes riveted to the glowing letters. But before she could make out what they said, the light disappeared. She frowned, then conjured a second, larger fireball and immediately threw it into the wall. She wa
tched, her breath caught in her lungs.
“Damn it,” Warren said when the light faded from the letters again.
“It glowed longer that time, though.”
“Is it the wrong kind of light?”
Esha heaved out a sigh and leaned against the wall. “You could be right. The riddle talks about darkness falling. Maybe it means night. Has it gotten dark outside?”
Warren looked at his watch. “It’s past four, so yes.”
Sunlight. The opposite of night. Energized by the new tactic, Esha pushed herself off the wall and turned to face the letters closest to her. They were just at her eye level.
“Come here, Chairman,” she said, gesturing to the cat, who still splashed in the pond, searching for fish or crabs or whatever lived in there. Apparently he only disliked water that didn’t contain snacks.
When she felt the cat twine his body about her legs, she closed her eyes and focused on the connection with him that would enhance her power. She pressed all ten fingers against the engraved letters, focusing on the sharp feel of them beneath her fingertips.
“What are you—” Warren broke off when she shushed him.
Vivid images of a summer day played through her mind as she imagined the heat and warmth of the sun. Channeling that thought from her mind and out through her fingers, she pushed sunlight into the letters etched on the cave wall. When she felt like she’d forced enough light into the wall, she opened her eyes.
Nothing. Just a vague glow.
“Damn it! That’s all the magical light I’ve got,” she said.
When she turned to face Warren, she caught sight of a trail of glowing paw prints that led from the pond. She glanced down at the Chairman. His front paws glowed from the phosphorescent water. “Look at that….”
She met Warren’s eyes, startled to see a grin stretch across his face. “Clever,” he said.
Esha leaned down and swiped a finger across the Chairman’s front paw. When she raised her finger, the water clinging to the tip made it glow. With a deep breath, she pressed the tip of her finger to the first letter of the riddle, the T. When she removed it, a small spot glittered with the enchanted water. Suddenly, the glittering light streaked along the letters, from the T to the h of the first word There all the way through to the end of the phrase.
“Look over there,” Warren said, pointing to the letters she’d found higher up on the other wall. They’d begun to light up too, as had three other inscriptions scattered about the cave.
“Whoa.”
The letters floated off the wall, swirling about each other until they formed another riddle that hung over what now appeared to be an entrance. It was still closed off by a wall of rock, but from where she stood now, with the glowing words hanging above it and pillars of stone arranged as if to frame it, it was definitely an entrance.
“What does it say?” Warren asked.
Esha squinted at the letters. The words were just as easy to understand this time, but it wasn’t a riddle. “It says that the body cannot enter, only the soul.”
Warren’s gaze whipped away from the words and toward her. “Only your soul?”
“Yeah. Makes sense, I guess. It’s not an easy thing to do. Takes a hell of a lot of power, and hurts like a bitch, but a soulceress can separate her soul and send it forth to another place with the help of her familiar. Anyone else would need the help of a soulceress to do so.” Esha looked at the letters again, a language that she’d never seen in her life. “Not to mention the hidden language and the water beast. Those protections are an ideal safeguard for the cave.”
“Makes sense. But do you even have enough power?”
“After the water beast? Maybe. Only one way to find out, though. Want to come?”
The question hit Warren in the gut.
Aye.
She’d be tearing her soul from her body to help him. The idea made his stomach pitch in a way that had nothing to do with Aurora’s sickness. He didn’t want Esha going in there alone, to face gods knew what. What if she needed him? She could be trapped there, hurt forever.
“I canna,” he said. He didn’t even try to hide the regret in his voice.
“Scared?”
“Nay. I canna.” He had no soul to send. “And you won’t either.”
The words were a revelation to him, escaped from his mouth before he had a chance to even process them. Give up this lead? So as not to risk her?
Aye. Not even to find Aurora.
When had he gone from not worrying about using Esha to find Aurora to refusing to put her in danger? But hadn’t protecting her been his plan all along? He’d planned to have Aurora’s head before Esha ever met her. He’d caused too much death in his life. He wouldn’t be the cause of Esha’s.
“Did you seriously just tell me what I can’t do?” Her eyebrows arched.
“There’s got to be another way.”
“There isn’t, and I’m going. The light-up letters are pretty clear.”
“Doona go. She could be in there. If I canna go, I will no’ be able to protect you.”
She laughed lightly. “Not knowing what’s in there is precisely the reason I want to go. And she isn’t in there. I’m sure. Mostly. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine.”
He stepped toward her, his hand outstretched. She didn’t step back but she raised her brow again. His hand dropped. She was right. She could take care of herself. And she wasn’t his to command. His fist clenched to the point of pain. “How will you do this?”
“I leave my body in a safe place—with you, in this case—and the Chairman takes my soul through the portal.”
“Will he leave his body too?”
“No, he’ll turn to smoke.”
Warren had seen the cat perform that eerie trick. Witches’ familiars not only enhanced the witches’ power, but had their own as well. Soulceresses’ familiars were likely the same. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll have to come back with at least a little power, or we won’t be able to get the boat back out through that magical stone wall.”
She looked toward the boat and frowned. “You’re right. It took magic just to get in the entrance. I wasn’t expecting that. Well, I’ll just have to not get hurt then.”
“Doona get hurt. I can swim out of here, but if you’re too hurt to get yourself out, my dragging you across the Celtic Sea could kill you.”
“I’m tougher than I look.”
“That you are.”
Esha sauntered toward the gate, her tall form dwarfed by the pillars that surrounded the two-meter-wide expanse of otherwise unimpressive stone. When she reached it, she turned to slide down against the wall and sit with her back to it.
“It’s now or never. When my soul leaves my body, it will go with the Chairman through the gate.” She glanced at it. “Which, apparently, is just a wall. If I can’t get through, I’ll just come back. If it works, my body will stay here.”
“Will your body be alive?” He didn’t know if he could deal with standing guard over her dead body.
“Yeah, but it’ll look like I’m in a coma. Just ignore me, I’ll be fine.”
Ignore her? Not bloody likely. He’d be watching her and the gate like a soldier waiting for news from the front.
“Well, here goes nothing.”
“Wait—”
She looked at him, curiosity in her eyes.
“Doona. There’s got to be another way.”
“I’ll be fine.” She closed her eyes and reached out to touch her cat’s back. The two of them shimmered, the cat changing first to a shadowy form of his scruffy black self. Esha followed, a ghostly version of herself separating from her body and joining the cat.
With a wave to him that glimmered in the dark cave, she followed the cat’s shadow until they disappeared through the wall.
A great gust of breath escaped Warren, one that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. What the hell was he doing, dragging ot
hers into this web of misery that had begun when Aurora had stolen his soul? He’d thought he’d do anything to get it back, but the sight of Esha slumped against the wall of the dark cave made him as sick as Aurora using his power.
He strode over to her body and sank down onto the floor next to her. Gently, he tested her pulse, his breath stuck until he felt it beating steady and true beneath his fingers. His heart clutched as he looked down at her. Though she drove him crazy, he’d been drawn by her bravery and willingness to help over the last several weeks.
He leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. The cold slide of sweat dripped down his temple.
Fear. Something he hadn’t felt for another in centuries.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Esha hated the feeling of having her soul sucked from her body. She had barely enough power to complete the task, and once the excruciating process of tearing each bit of her soul from her mind and limbs was over, she just felt weightless, which was vastly superior to the tearing part of the operation. The Chairman stayed close by her side as they passed through the gate that led to the howf. Without him, she’d be stuck without a body. If she ran out of power, she’d be stuck like this forever. It’d be the worst way to go. Unable to feel or talk, she’d be worse than a ghost.
“Thanks, dude,” she said, not surprised that the words had no sound. She no longer had actual vocal cords, after all.
With a deep breath and a wave to Warren, she nodded to the Chairman and they passed through the gate. It felt no different to pass through rock than it did air, which was strange in itself. But when they entered the howf, the feeling of abandonment struck her hard. She’d have gasped if she’d had a body, but instead she just felt lost. Dead, almost.
She squinted in the darkness, but was unable to see anything, so she focused on forming a ball of fire in her hand. Its unnatural brightness illuminated the space with a dim orange glow that reached all corners of the medium-sized space.