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“The harpy. Why’s she got us chasing after her like that?”
Emilie rolled her eyes. “You probably frightened her.”
“Ridiculous. I didn’t even say or do anything.”
“Except run after her like a crazed man,” she said, finding her way to the end of the aisle and peeking in row after row, expecting to find the harpy in one of them. “She’s a bit skittish. Haven’t you noticed?”
It was my turn to roll my eyes.
Emilie finally found what she was looking for in the next-to-last aisle. I watched as she approached the harpy with an outstretched hand—a peace offering.
When she noticed me, the harpy stared with wide eyes and it hit me that Emilie was probably right. I’d accidentally frightened the damn thing. How was I supposed to know she was so cowardly?
Emilie spoke, and the harpy finally moved its gaze to her instead. “You’re okay. He won’t harm you. I’m sorry if he startled you.”
The harpy gave Emilie a small nod.
“Were you looking for us?”
Another nod.
“You have something to show us.” It wasn’t a question so much as a revelation. A hope that the harpy had discovered something else that might help in our quest to escape. “Will you show us?”
The harpy again looked at me with suspicion in her eyes.
“Apologize to her,” Emilie said.
“What?”
“Apologize, you asshole.”
I scoffed. “I didn’t do anything.”
The look Emilie shot me was nothing short of fury.
“Fine.” I held my hands up in surrender and then turned to the harpy. “I apologize for scaring you. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t recognize you at first and then you ran and I assumed the worst. You have nothing to fear from me.”
The harpy blinked once. And then twice. I assumed that was the best I’d get in return. She did seem less rigid as she glided past where Emilie and I stood and led the way to an empty corridor that branched off from the main hall—empty save for a small wooden desk and a filing cabinet.
On the desk was a worn leather-bound notebook. Much thinner than any of the other tomes in the cavern. It wasn’t even wide enough for a title down the spine.
The harpy picked it up and held it out to Emilie, keeping it open to a specific page. I couldn’t help but notice that it was handwritten.
Emilie held it carefully as she read. Her expression went from curiosity to excitement to shock and then to horror. “Where did you get this?”
“What is it?” I asked.
She ignored me and took a step toward the harpy, holding the notebook up with one hand. “How did you get this?”
The harpy stared blankly, unable to offer any explanation. I was still very confused.
“What does it say?” I asked again.
Emilie flipped back open to the page she’d been reading. “It’s a journal. This entry here…it describes the creation of the tunnels. They believed the mountains themselves were alive, and the tunnels were a living thing created by the gods, too. Since they seem to have magic of their own and can appear and disappear at will. Civilians kept getting lost within the series of caves and tunnels.”
“And?”
“And the person who kept this journal…they sealed the entrances to those tunnels to prevent more losses…using blood magic. We need blood magic to open them.”
