“Red, I can’t see anything.”
“Look harder, my friend. Take what you need from me.”
Her hand seemed to melt into mine, as though her essence passed through my skin and into my blood. Hot electricity darted through my veins. The immense power of Red’s energy shocked and exhilarated me more than any drug ever could. My chest heaved as I breathed.
“Wow,” I said.
“I know.” Her voice no longer came from the space beside me, but from within, like an echo of my own thoughts.
“Won’t this hurt you?”
“You could never hurt me.”
I pushed out with my senses, feeling my way along every part of every wall. “There!” I saw through part of the wall across from the entrance as easily as if it were made of glass.
There was definitely a tunnel behind it, leading under the wall. I could see ascending stairs at the other end.
“You can do it, Talia.” Amir’s words pierced my concentration like sharp razors. He wanted to help, but I needed him to stay quiet.
“Shhh,” I whispered. “Time to open it.”
I stood up and stepped in front of the door we’d discovered. With my index and middle fingers, I traced its outline. Amir gasped as a gold line appeared along the trail made by my fingers. I pressed my palm against the centre of the shape and pushed against it with the energy Red was feeding me. A loud crack bounced off the walls as the stones split apart.
“Keep going.” Red’s words caressed my soul, fortifying my weakening heart.
The stones continued to crack beneath my hand. I pulled back for a moment and then shot out again, like a runner on the homestretch, holding nothing back. My heart thundered in my ears. The stones broke apart, crumbling into a pile at my feet.
Red withdrew from me. It hurt like a bandage ripped from a still-bleeding wound, and I gasped. She faded away, disappearing beyond the veil.
Amir wrapped his arms around my waist, catching me as I collapsed. We fell into each other, a crumpled heap of limbs on the floor. I struggled to breathe, gasping for air like a fish washed ashore.
“Breathe. Just breathe.” He stroked my hair, rocking me like a babe in his arms. My pulse slowed as I let go of my second sight, allowing myself the luxury of darkness behind closed eyes. In measured contractions, my body and mind recovered, breath by breath, moment by moment. Amir held me the whole time, his embrace both gentle and strong.
“It worked,” I whispered.
“Yes,” he replied. “You did it. That’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever witnessed. Are you okay?”
“I will be. Give me a moment. Then, we find your princess.”
Chapter Three
WHEN I HEARD Red’s muffled voice again, she sounded as though she were yelling from below me somewhere, deep in the dirt. “Talia! Stop!”
I froze.
Amir looked over his shoulder. “What is it?”
“There’s something wrong,” I replied, deadpan. There was no room for emotion. I needed to know the source of Red’s fear. The unnatural silence in the tunnel manifested itself as an intense pressure pushing against my body from all directions. I was scared. She wouldn’t have called out like that if it were safe to take even one more step, but I couldn’t feel her presence. She’d disappeared as quickly as she’d reemerged. I was on my own.
“What do we do?” Amir moved his hand to the ornate pommel of his sword. Nothing could be achieved with that blade; surely he knew as much given their obvious isolation.
I shook my head, raising my hand so he would stay where he was.
He dropped his hand to his side and nodded. “I’ll let you concentrate.”
Closing my eyes, I scanned the walls and the ceiling. Nothing stood out as unusual. Moving my attention to the floor, I could see a shadowy patch of earth directly beneath my left foot.
“Damn.” I opened my eyes. Amir’s ashen face mirrored the concern I felt overpower my own pale features. “If I’d taken another step, I’d be dead.”
Amir gulped as his eyebrows reached for his hairline. “W-what? How? I don’t understand.”
“I’m standing on a pressure plate of some kind. My guess is that as soon as my weight is removed from the stone, something will happen. Something fatal. Your stride is larger than mine; you must have missed it.” I concentrated on keeping my voice steady. Matter-of-fact. Calm. If I could project confidence, perhaps I would feel it. Project! That’s it. That’s the solution. I might not have been a prince, but I was the Lead Caster. Being neither here nor there my entire life had brought me a lot of pain, but it also kept me safe.
“What is it? You just told me you could die if you move, but you’re smiling. It’s somewhat off-putting, Talia.” At least I’d lightened the mood. He seemed less anxious already.
“I can fix this,” I said, a slight grin pulling at the side of my mouth. “It’ll be fine.”
“Are there any more of these traps?”
“No. The steps are just ahead and I could only see this one. If there were others, we have passed them already.”
I’d nearly depleted myself when I’d created the door, but regardless, I needed to cast one more spell. I breathed out through my mouth, straightened my arms, and held them tightly by my sides. I pulled my shoulders back, improving my posture. Amir gasped as I bent my right knee and lifted the foot off the ground as though to take a step. Holding the leg in midair, I envisioned myself as though I stood where Amir did, watching my own movements from a few steps away. The more I focused, the clearer the image became. When I’d formed an accurate outline of my short, slender body, my face, my hair, my boots, my belt… When it was all accounted for, my projected self reached toward my physical body. I took hold of my own hand and pulled, guiding my body forward, my right leg finally hitting the ground, my left leg then following it, away from the pressure trap. The moment I’d stepped off of it, my projected self disappeared and I became aware of my body again. It felt like I was being torn in half. It wasn’t painful, though, more like I was a large cloth being ripped down the middle. I could feel each thread separating, and then suddenly the sensation stopped.
“Sweet mother of—”
“I know,” I said. Amir’s shock spread across his face like too much ink blotted into parchment. “I’m pretty impressed, too.”
“What happens to her, though?” His eyes looked past me.
Oh, right. I’d forgotten. I turned to look at another version of myself, still standing on the pressure trap, leg raised. She was identical, yet lifeless. A statue without blood or breath or voice. Thanks to her, I still lived.
“She’s not real.” I kept my eyes on her. Was that really what I looked like? A three-dimensional version of myself was so different to a reflection in the glass. Her legs weren’t long, but they were strong. Straight, black hair fell about her shoulders. It contrasted her hard, blue eyes.
I hoped my eyes were less empty than hers.
“She’s just a shell?” Amir said.
“Yes. Don’t worry. She won’t feel a thing.”
He looked at me quizzically. I took his hand and led him up the passage as far as we could go before our way was blocked. “You don’t have to watch,” I told him. “But truly, she feels nothing. She’s a projection, a copy of me made from magic. I needed something that weighed exactly the same as I do. Everything inside of her is dead. Recycled energy that constantly hovers about us all.”
“I feel like we should still witness whatever happens to her. It seems wrong to turn away.”
“I understand.”
I pressed my palms together and intertwined my fingers. A thick, dull ache had formed in my chest. A side effect of casting. I did my best to ignore it, to infuse my words with magic that I drew toward me from the Other World.
“Ad liberos!” Within a second, the copy slumped forward—a marionette released by its master.
A loud pop sounded. The passageway was flooded by spectacular light as her form was swallowed
by an intense, narrow column of blue flame that shot up from the stone. The heat of it forced Amir and me to turn away, to bury our faces in our arms. A smell something like burnt feathers assaulted my nostrils, getting stuck in the back of my throat.
“By the goddess.” He righted himself and pulled his tunic down to straighten it. “There’s nothing left. That flame must have been hotter than any I ever knew was possible.”
“Tanit.” I swallowed. “She is powerful.” I wondered what had come of her. No one had seen her since Oldpass fell, but surely such a being was almost ageless. I doubted she was dead. Not yet, anyway. Time would ravage the witch eventually, I supposed, but I could only assume it would take much longer than normally expected.
“Are you sure the copy felt nothing?”
“No more than a piece of pottery that falls to the floor, my prince. I promise.”
With that, he sighed, as though exhaling his concern. His face softened. “You know,” he said with a grin. “You’re starting to make me look bad. I’m yet to do much at all to help with this rather perilous journey.”
I tapped his chest lightly with the back of my hand. “Don’t worry, my prince, I’m sure there will be something for you to do soon enough. Though you may regret wishing for such a thing.”
As we ascended the moss-covered stone steps, fresh air entered through gaps in the antiquated hatch. I wouldn’t consider myself claustrophobic, but at that moment, breathing in the cool air from the world above, I felt immensely grateful to have reached the end of the tunnel.
“You’re tired,” Amir said, squeezing the top of my shoulder. “I’ll open this one.”
“I’m not going to argue with that.” I smiled half-heartedly. The ache in my chest had dissipated, but breaking a hole in such a thick, sturdy wall and then creating a projection so soon after had drained the energy from my limbs as surely as running around the entire perimeter of Grimvein would have. “It’s all yours.” I descended a few steps and then sat down and leaned my head back against the cold stone. I released the top button of my jacket, exposing my collarbone so that I might better knead the side of my neck.
“Could you please hold that stone up a little higher?” Amir climbed as high as he could before the way was blocked, and then turned to press his back against the wood. “Here goes,” he said, trepidation hanging from his words. Bending at the knees, he pushed against the hatch. It groaned and creaked in response, but did not open. Given his substantial height and build, it must have been incredibly heavy.
As Amir worked to push it open, I wondered what would be on the other side. According to the king, the tunnel should have brought us beneath the centre of the royal courtyard, allowing us to bypass the walls. The last group to try and penetrate those walls was impaled by rusty pikes as thick as a man’s leg. There was no real way to know which stones were safe to climb and which were going to ignite one of the traps left behind by Tanit’s curse. Best to avoid them altogether.
But what if the tunnel was no better? What if we were about to set off yet another trap, much like the pikes or the pressure plate? My hands started to shake.
“Wait,” I called out.
Alarmed, Amir met my eyes. “What is it, Talia?” He moved to join me. “Have you sensed something?”
Despite my best efforts, a tear had formed in the corner of my eye. “Are you sure this is worth the risk?”
He covered my left hand with his, holding it in place in my lap. Lit from below by the stone in my right hand, Amir’s features would’ve seemed almost menacing if not for the genuine concern flashing in his eyes.
“Are you scared?”
I pulled my hand out from beneath his and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. I couldn’t deal with his touch. Not at that moment. It was too distracting, too difficult to process, given it was meant only to comfort and nothing more.
“I suppose I am. We’ve no idea what’s up there.”
“No, we don’t.” He slid back, sitting on the same step as me but on the opposite end, and interlaced his fingers as he gazed at the floor. “But we’ve found the way in. Surely we have a responsibility to press on?”
A responsibility? To whom? There was nobody Amir owed his life to. Few men could grow up as he did, surrounded by privilege and afforded every opportunity one could imagine, yet still possess such a selfless heart. That meant something. Not just to me, but to the people he’d one day rule as a just and compassionate king. They needed him to live as much as I did. His parents, surely, had not really meant what they said before he left. They loved Amir. They would never disinherit him, even if we did fail.
“Talia, you’re the most adept caster in my parents’ kingdom. If anyone can protect us, it’s you.”
He had such faith in me. I didn’t understand why. Yes, I might have been born with the sight, with an ability to manipulate the energies around me, but the person responsible for the sleeping curse could do so much more. Tanit could create energy. And destroy it.
“You’re willing to bet your life on my abilities?”
He closed his eyes, touching his fingertips to his lips. He nodded. “Yes.”
“Do you want to marry this princess?” I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. The prince and I had become fairly comfortable with each other over the past couple of weeks, but we’d never once broached the topic of what would happen after Aurora woke. Somehow, we’d silently designated the topic taboo.
Amir shifted his weight, the heels of his boots scraping across an uneven stone. “It’s what must happen.” His tone was devoid of emotion, like a tutor reading from an unfamiliar story.
I bit my lower lip, thinking of the predicament Grimvein’s ruling family found themselves in, of the power-mad ruler to the north. “Because of Braedon.”
“Because of Braedon.” His voice was solemn. “We need Oldpass. Only an alliance will provide adequate protection from that blasted force threatening to invade.”
I rubbed at my forehead for a moment before letting my hands fall back into my lap. “It’s a matter of duty, then.” I’d known all of this already, but his avoidance of my original question gave me some glimmer of hope. Perhaps he didn’t feel drawn to Aurora, as he should have if he were really linked to her by destiny. If he were bound to the princess by magic, by love, he should have been able to feel her calling to him. He should have felt compelled to find her.
“Everything in my life is a matter of duty, Talia. But if we really do have the ability to save this woman, we should. She’s been stuck here for a hundred years, and not just her, but every other person who didn’t leave before she drew blood on that spindle.”
“You’re right.” I sighed. Damn his wisdom. His altruism. “Who knows how many people have missed out on a huge piece of their lives because of Tanit’s vengeance? We should help them.”
“We should,” he echoed. We let the heavy silence hang between us for a few seconds. “Feel better now?”
I forced a smile. “A little. If we do find Aurora Rose, there won’t be much I can do to wake her. You know that, right?”
“Yes.” He leaned back to rest on his elbows. “The curse requires true love’s kiss. I’ve no idea if such a thing as true love really exists, but perhaps, if we work together, we can find a way to rouse her.”
“It does exist.” My words were blunt, but honest. “It’s the purest form of magic in the universe. That’s why it can break even the darkest, most powerful spell.”
“But how can true love exist between people who’ve never even met? It seems impossible.”
“No, it’s possible.” I felt my confidence returning, as it always did when we discussed immortal forces. “It is there before you meet. You just don’t acknowledge or understand it. All the moments that come after that first meeting only serve to help you believe, to help you trust that the electricity passing between you is real.”
He sat upright and considered me, his eyes intense and serious. “That’s beautiful.”
You’re beautiful. How badly I wanted to say the words. My chest tightened as I fought the urge to lean forward, to take his hand, to tell him that even though I was terrified of what might wait for us above, I’d never wanted to be anywhere else more than I wanted to be there, with him. Well, almost never.
The memory of Red’s spirit entwining with mine, strengthening me, protecting me, pulled me out of the world of fantasy and back into the real world. At least there was one thing that could drag me out of that vortex of fantasy and desire. One thing strong enough to pull me in another, albeit hopeless, direction.
I swallowed, forcing the misshapen, grainy lump in my throat back into my stomach where I could best control it. “Yes, well, I interrupted you.” I shifted my gaze to the hatch. “Was it starting to budge?”
He followed my line of sight and nodded. “It’s old, the hinges are rusty, but yes, I think it will yield.”
Using a technique my predecessor had taught me, I worked at regaining my strength as he worked at the hatch. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the in-and-out rhythm of my breathing. I extracted the nutrients offered by the air, by the mystical particles hidden deep within the molecules of each inhalation. I envisioned their journey through my body, forcing my muscles to accept the healing properties of nature’s purest and smallest gifts.
My eyes opened when I heard the distinct screech of rusty hinges giving way. Amir huffed as he straightened his legs one last time. The hatch swung open, banging against the ground as it found its destination, and Amir stood up straight. After the muted glow of my moonbeam stone, the fierce natural light that flooded the stairway forced me to turn away, hissing like a threatened cat.
“Are you all right?” Amir said.
I blinked several times and returned my stone to its pouch. “Yes, I’m fine. I seem to have forgotten what daylight looks like.”
“It doesn’t take long.” He leaned down, offering me his hand. I hesitated at first, but there was no real reason to turn down such a simple gesture. I slid my hand into his and used it to stand up.
Once Upon the Rainbow, Volume Two Page 17