The light from the corridor barely penetrated the stairs, even with the door wide open, but I was fairly certain the corpse blocking the door was wearing the same rune pendant. The skeleton was better preserved, with bits of hair and patches of clothing hanging off it. Probably because there weren’t any doors or windows around. Though if this was a pocket of time, should the sacrificed sorcerers even be decaying at all? Maybe time just moved super slow here.
“How many is that now?” I asked. The preservation of this corpse made it much more difficult to ignore the mounting death toll.
“Ten that haven’t succumbed to the elements,” Warner answered. “Could’ve been more.”
“This one is sitting like the others. As if accepting his fate.”
“Yes. Without flesh, it’s difficult to know what killed him, but they do appear to have sacrificed themselves.”
“To counter the magical traps of the fortress,” I said. “That’s a lot of people willing to die for their cause.”
Warner made a noncommittal noise. “I’m concerned we might come up empty-handed. But how anyone could gain access to the instruments of assassination without my sensing it, I don’t know.”
“Magic has its limits,” I said. “Even Guardian magic.”
Warner nodded, and then took the lead down the stairs. Kandy and I followed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We went down and down in a slow, wide spiral. Down and down until I wasn’t sure how long we’d been walking. Lights flickered on intermittently as we passed, but most of the magic that I presumed once coated these walls and steps was diminished. The walls became damp and slimy, and though I attempted not to rub against them, I wasn’t completely successful.
We stepped over three more corpses — Warner pulling a pendant from each — as we descended. Again, these skeletons were better preserved … almost mummified. This state of preservation made me fret about the oxygen levels, though I wasn’t silly enough to say so out loud. The utterly fearless werewolf and dragon would sneer at me for sure. The air didn’t taste stale. But it was oxygen that caused things to decay, right?
Each corpse was placed before what I assumed had been some sort of magic trap along the way.
“Thirteen now,” Kandy said from up ahead as we passed another skeleton. She didn’t sound so gleeful anymore.
Warner grumbled something under his breath. I took it that he wasn’t a fan of the number thirteen, but I’d grown up with witches who didn’t believe in such superstition. In fact, many witches promoted such superstitions to create a powerful aura among the Adepts, which had subsequently leaked out into the human world through centuries of practicing witchcraft.
The perfect number for a coven was thirteen, actually, though given the low birth rate of most Adepts, that wasn’t always possible. The Convocation was traditionally made up of thirteen witches from all over the world. One of those spots had formerly stood empty for years, however, waiting for a witch powerful enough to fill it. Scarlett was the witch who eventually stepped up … a sacrifice of her freedom that my mother had made to protect me.
Most dragons were too impervious to magic to be bothered by it, just as Warner had asserted in my bakery kitchen only a day ago. But ideas penetrated where magic couldn’t. And thirteen corpses spread throughout a fortress that contained something called the ‘instruments of assassination’ created a pretty pervasive impression.
Someone scary powerful had walked these steps before us. Someone who had followers willing to sacrifice themselves to thwart the magic protecting whatever we were currently hunting.
My toes were getting wet. I hated having damp feet. I loved walking in rainstorms, but only when I was wearing proper shoes. I know I was just wearing flip-flops, but it was weird to be surrounded by so much stone and still get wet, wasn’t it? Yeah, I’d gotten my neck broken two days ago and hadn’t given it a second thought, but wet feet bothered me.
“What’s with the damp?” I asked, then flinched as my too loud voice echoed back and around me. I modulated my tone to a whisper. “Where is the water coming from?”
“It was slimy like this in the spike-filled, corpse-riddled hole,” Kandy said.
Warner grunted, but didn’t offer his opinion.
A terrible idea occurred to me. “How far do you think we’ve walked? Far enough to get to the other side of the island? Near the ocean?” The beach we’d swum up on had tapered for hundreds of feet out into the sea, maybe more. And now I was wondering why.
“Could be,” Kandy answered.
“And deep enough to be in an underwater cavern?”
“Jesus, I hope not,” Kandy said. The green of her shapeshifter magic shone so brightly in her eyes it practically obscured her face. “But I guess it would make sense to fortify a powerful artifact that way. And digging through stone with magic would be an insane feat, wouldn’t it?”
“It would,” Warner said. He turned back to look at us. He’d reached some sort of landing at the base of the stone stairs. He lifted his foot and deliberately placed it down again. Water sloshed.
Possible underwater cavern? Check.
I hated being right about all the terrible shit.
A wooden door stood open before the sentinel, half off its hinges as the entrance door had been. The runes that had once decorated its edges were scratched and marred. No corpses were slumped against the walls, though. Whoever had led the siege hadn’t needed to sacrifice a follower to get through this door. Or the main entrance, now that I thought about it. Though maybe any corpses outside the protection of the fortress would have succumbed to the elements.
Golden dragon magic rolled across Warner’s eyes. I’d never seen dragon magic do that, except with Chi Wen. After meeting Rochelle last January, I’d assumed the magic I’d seen in the far seer’s eyes was a manifestation of his oracle power. I guessed all dragons held their magic differently. I didn’t know Jiaotu either, maybe Warner took after his mother.
“Shadow scouts ahead,” Warner said.
“Waiting for sunset?” I asked as I joined him on the landing. The water was ankle deep here. I was going to have to work through my wet feet issues whether I wanted to or not.
Kandy bent down to touch the water, then she licked her fingers and spat. “Salty.”
I sighed.
The green-haired werewolf began prowling the perimeter, which was rather tight, so she brushed by Warner and me each time she passed. Her eyes were full on glowing green. She kept clicking wolf claws in and out of her fingertips. I wondered if it hurt her to do so.
“Alchemist?” Warner asked. “Are we continuing?”
“Why wouldn’t we?” I said, attempting to shake off the sense of doom that seemed to be pressing down between my shoulder blades.
“He thinks old dead things should scare us,” Kandy said as she circled us again.
“He also probably thinks you’re pacing.”
“I’m not pacing,” Kandy snapped at Warner. “I’m securing the area while you stop for tea and crumpets.”
Warner raised an eyebrow at the green-haired werewolf. I wondered where he’d picked up that affectation. Pulou maybe.
“That crumpets line really isn’t working,” I said.
“I know, okay? This place stinks of death. Dry, dusty death.”
I reached out to touch Kandy but managed only to brush my fingers across her hand and bracelet as she passed. She stopped pacing and looked down at me touching the cuff.
The alchemist magic tingled underneath my fingers. I dropped my hand.
“I didn’t think we’d get to the end so quickly,” Kandy murmured. She lifted her wrist to look at the cuff and then locked her gaze to me.
“Chi wen … the far seer isn’t usually literal,” I said. “Are you worried about what lies ahead through those doors?”
Kandy snorted. “Not for me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not wearing these
for me, am I? The far seer’s gaze isn’t fixed to me.”
“The far seer isn’t known for his understanding of time,” Warner said. I was relieved at his interjection. “You could wear the cuffs for the next fifty years before you know why you were given them.”
Kandy shifted her green gaze from me to Warner. “Yeah?” Her tone was deep and deadly. “You think that’s happening here?”
Warner turned to look at me. He shook his head. “No.”
The green-haired werewolf returned her gaze to me as well.
With their expectant eyes locked on me, I turned to look at the dark doorway looming in front of us. I pulled my knife and twirled my wrist to needlessly loosen it.
“Shall we dance?” I asked Kandy.
Kandy laughed, low and husky.
I stepped through into what appeared to be the main chamber of the fortress without waiting for an answer. Fretful or not, the werewolf was always up for dancing.
Magical sconces flared as I entered the circular room. The vaulted ceiling was supported by impossibly tall pillars … nine plain stone pillars. The similarities to the dragon nexus stopped there, though. There was nothing gilded about this round room, and no immediately apparent doors leading from it. The decor was entirely gray on gray. Slab tiles carved out of stone spread out before us in concentric circles. Those circles radiated inward to a set of stairs that rose, also in a circular pattern, to create a simple stone dais. A statue stood before an altar on top of the dais. But as far as I could see, there were no other statues in the room.
“No magic,” I whispered.
“None?” Warner asked. “See the path?”
Certain stones had been removed from the concentric circles, as they had been outside and on the stairs leading up to the entrance.
“None except for up there.” I pointed to the statue at the altar. “It’s as if it’s been stripped, even more so here than in the halls. Not a drop of residual magic.”
I started to cross the concentric circles, carefully stepping within the edges of the missing stone slabs. I wasn’t terribly concerned about making a misstep, seeing as I couldn’t feel any magic in this area of the chamber. But it was never stupid to be wary. I approached the bottom of the stairs, noting that there were nine steps, not counting the top of the dais. I could feel Warner and Kandy mimicking my movements behind me. I was happy to taste Kandy and her dark-chocolate berry-infused magic behind me. Not that I knew for sure that placed her out of harm’s way, but it felt better to lead right now.
I paused and reached out with my dowser senses to taste the power at the top of the dais again. “I can’t place the magic … sorcerer maybe. Alchemist for sure.” According to Pulou, I was the only alchemist currently practicing anywhere in the world. Whatever was on the altar was at least older than me. But I was betting it was way, way older than that.
I shifted my focus, reaching out to the farthest edges of the round chamber, but I still couldn’t taste any other magic around us. “I thought you sensed shadow demons here?” I asked Warner.
“They’re here. I can feel them,” he answered. “Waiting.”
“Waiting for what?” Kandy said. “I thought they wanted the map?”
“Perhaps they just wanted to give us a push,” Warner answered.
I jogged up the nine stairs and stepped in behind the statue, skirting around it to see that it depicted a woman. The detail of the carving was intricate, and in complete contrast with the utilitarian fortress. The woman was wearing a wide skirt, so long that only the tips of her shoes showed at the hem. Her bodice was laced at the back and cut square along her collarbone. Her neck and hands were bare of jewelry, but what appeared to be a circlet rested on her forehead. Her eyes were wide open and staring at her outstretched hand, which hovered a couple of inches away from a rough-hewn wooden box that sat in the very center of the stone altar.
“Hello, Game of Thrones,” I muttered. “Someone wants their costume back.” Then I called out to Kandy and Warner who were still ascending behind me. “It’s weird, isn’t it? That the statue doesn’t match anything else around here? Look at the detail … her hair falling over her shoulder, the way her feet are placed, as if in midstep. Then look at the altar, the dais, and the box. All of which are just basic. Serviceable.”
“Maybe something used to sit there instead of the box?” Kandy offered. “And whoever came before us took it and left the box?”
“What does the magic tell you, alchemist?” Warner asked. “The runes along the edges of the altar are inert, yes?”
A thick layer of dust practically obscured the carved runes Warner was referencing, but I was way more interested in the wooden box. “The box holds … something … but I taste nothing from the statue or the altar.” I skirted the altar until I was standing opposite the statue. From there, I could see her eyes were fixed on the wooden box. “Does she look surprised to you?”
Something was really bugging me, but I just couldn’t figure out what. I looked up to meet Warner’s gaze. He was staring at me — not the statue or the box. Figuring me out, not the puzzle standing right in front of him. I could feel myself start to blush — yes, like a silly teenager — just as something occurred to me. My stomach bottomed out at the thought.
“What did you just realize?” Warner asked, his tone low and intimate.
“She’s not … I mean, you’ve been concerned about the fortress being broken into and why you weren’t … woken.”
“She’s not.”
“Not what?” Kandy asked.
“A sentinel,” Warner answered.
I looked back at the statue, my stomach rolling uncomfortably at the idea of Warner ‘sleeping’ encased in stone like this. He had screamed when he appeared in front of Kandy and me in the alley. I’d assumed that the magic of whatever transportation spell had sent him there had just overwhelmed him … but … what if …
I looked back at Warner, who offered me a curl of his lips. Not really a smile, but an attempt at one. Then, failing that, he shook his head emphatically.
“She could be a warden of some other kind,” Kandy said. “You know, like a gargoyle or a nondragon guardian. But neutralized or petrified. Another trap that’s already been triggered?”
This pulled my attention back to the present. I couldn’t figure out Warner’s potentially terrible past right now. I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to know the details of what his sentinel duties meant for him when he was ‘sleeping.’
“Not that I can taste,” I answered Kandy.
I reached over to the box and lifted the lid.
Warner hissed harshly, like he was really pissed off all of a sudden. Yeah, I had just touched an unknown magical object without laying down protection spells or anything. I got that reaction a lot, but I wasn’t a protection-spell-laying kind of witch.
Nothing happened.
“Well, that was oddly easy,” I said.
“Oh, fuck,” Kandy snarled. “You had to say that out loud.”
We glanced around the fortress to see what karma was going to rise up to kick our asses.
Nothing happened.
I leaned forward, placing the lid to one side of the altar as I peered inside the eight-by-six-inch wooden box. Three braids of what appeared to be silk thread were coiled inside.
“Hmmm,” I muttered. “Usually these sorts of things come with velvet cushions and diamonds. Or at least some kind of precious metal. I wasn’t expecting hair ribbons.”
Warner didn’t step any closer, but Kandy lifted up on her toes to look. “Ribbons?”
I reached out with my dowser senses, trying to get a taste of the alchemist magic that coated the braids. Each tiny rope, or ribbon, or whatever they were, was braided with five individually colored silk threads. At least, I assumed the braids were magical in nature. It might just have been the wooden box I was tasting. “Red, orange, yellow, blue, and violet,” I said to Warner and Kandy, both of who had smar
tly stayed a step away from the altar.
“Like the key and the doors,” Kandy said.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “We’re here to pick up rainbow-colored braids?”
“Almost a rainbow,” Kandy corrected.
I glanced at Warner, who did not look like a happy camper. His teeth were clenched so tightly I could see the strain across his jaw and cheeks. “Is this what we’re here for?” I asked. “Or is it some weird message from whoever got here before us?”
“You can’t feel the magic?” he asked. His voice was strained.
“Not as much as you seem to.”
He met my gaze intently and then nodded his head.
Okay, weird. But whatever. I picked up the lid, intending to replace it before I took the box off the altar.
“Destroy it,” Warner said.
“What?”
“I think you should destroy it.”
“That’s not what we’re here to do,” I said. “Pulou …”
“We tell the treasure keeper we couldn’t find it.”
I stared at Warner. Even Kandy stopped her pacing to look at him. Then she started laughing.
“What about duty?” she asked him. “Loyalty? And how do you know the fucking thing won’t backlash and kill Jade if she tries to do what you ask? For someone who said he’d hold up the world if it came crashing down, you have a pretty loose understanding of the concept of protection … and friendship.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard Kandy so quietly angry, so utterly affronted.
I placed the lid back on the box.
Warner shook his head as if clearing it. Then he grimaced. “I’m sorry,” he said. “If you could feel it you would understand. It’s like millions of lightning bugs crawling underneath my skin, digging into my brain, heart, and lungs. I’ve never felt the like.”
“I still wouldn’t have asked Jade to do something so stupid. She does stupid things just fine on her own.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly.
Shadows, Maps, and Other Ancient Magic (Dowser Series Book 4) Page 18