A coin-sized groove appears beneath my fingertips.I touch it, feeling a thread of cool air squeeze through the seam.My cheeks tighten into a wide, fractured grin.
“Got you.”
I slide the coin into the crack.A muffled, grinding thud vibrates through the stone, and the runes catch fire, blazing with a violet light.
Ancient locks responding only to ancient loyalty.
A deep, resonant thrum fills the space as the antique lock yields, a thin doorway parting slowly.Dust plumes into the air and settles as the wall splits, opening into a waiting blackness.
I snort, rolling my eyes at the guards’ cowardice.They simply stare back at me, frozen.
“Fine.I swear the gods wasted their breath on you,” I say, taking a tentative step into the void.
My boots thud against the stone as I cross the threshold into a cavernous vault.Warmth spreads down my arm as I force my energy to pool, my palm igniting to reveal the contents of the space.I pocket the gold coin and stare at the hole in the floor.
“Sir—” someone calls from the threshold.“Everything alright?”
“Follow me.”
They gather around me as I stop at the edge of the unnatural circle carved into the stone.The dark pit hums with a vibration that seeps into my very skin.I cover my nose; the scent of lavender has grown intense, but it's laced with something older—a musk I have never smelled in all my years in the Guild.
“What’s down there?”someone whispers.
“There’s only one way to find out.”I reach out, grabbing the nearest guard by the scruff of his neck, and hurl him into the dark.
Seconds pass before he lands with a muffled thud and a groan.
“I’m fine,” he mumbles from the depths, as if I had cared to ask.
“No one cares for your welfare.Is the drop short?”
“Yes, sir.”
One by one, we descend into the abyss.
* * *
The cavern yawns before us,a wound in our gilded earth.Black dust clings to the air, tainted with lavender, burnt smoke and a sharp, acidic bite.Coughs echo, bouncing off walls that weep slow, heavy beads of brackish water into the silence.
My focus narrows to water.No ripples mar the glassy surface; it stretches into the dark like a vast, silent mirror.No rocks penetrate the exterior; no stalactites protrude from its depths.It reflects the carnage of the room in perfect, unbroken clarity.
“Spread out,” I order.“Look for signs of passage.They can’t have gone far.”
My voice carries too well; even the echoes sound uncertain.The men obey, wading through debris, kicking over shards of rock and the fragments of broken rods.
I crouch beside the pool, dipping a gloved finger into the mirrored surface.It’s like plunging into glacial water.Numbness spreads instantly—a razor-sharp jolt that has me snatching my hand back, rubbing my finger with fierce intensity.
Warmth spreads down my arm as I ignite my energy, the heat forcing life back into the extremity.I extend my arm over the water; the light protrudes but is swallowed by an absolute, hungry blackness—the ever-present divide between light and dark.
Nothing travels through this.Not light.Not men.
“They went through here, sir.”A guard points to a scabrous hole at the base of the wall where the stone has sheared away.Imprinted on the rock is a smear of blackness—a snake of ash.
Down.Always down.
Uri’s voice cuts clean through my thoughts:Bring her to me.Alive.
“We follow the trail.If anyone asks, we are securing the catacombs after the tremor.”
