Evylin gave him a flat look. “I was using my magic then. All sense of self-preservation is rather lost when it takes hold.”
With a knowing chuckle, Ethenn ascended the ladder first, Ilain following on his heels. Deckard suggested that Evylin go next, teasingly promising to catch her if she fell. The others funneled up behind. The climb was slow, but the ladder was solid. Deckard supposed that if it was meant to provide safety to the monarchy, they’d check it regularly enough to ensure there was no decay on the rungs.
It was when Deckard neared the top that he first felt a heat race along his spine. He gasped at the unexpected rush of his magic.
With Ethenn’s help, Ilain stepped off the ladder onto the ground above. She looked down, meeting Deckard’s gaze. “You feel it, don’t you?” she said.
“Feel what?” Deckard replied distractedly.
“The Keep. It’s tugging at your magic.”
Deckard paused, staring at the last set of rungs as Evylin climbed free. “Yes,” he realized. “Why have I never sensed it before? Last night or with the other Keeps.”
“Probably because you weren’t looking,” Ilain said. “You weren’t even aware of its presence last night, and you let Auden and me seek out the pull of the previous Keeps. But now, you’re Bonded. And this is Space, which you are inextricably connected to. When you intentionally look for it, it’s ready to be found.”
Deckard could only hope the connection would bode well for their time within the Keep.
The top of the ladder opened into what appeared to be a garden shed. Ethenn snuck out first, checking the perimeter to ensure their safety. At his signal, they emerged. Together, they darted carefully through the gardens. While Deckard suggested shrouding the troop, Auden warned against it, reminding him not to drain his magic until absolutely necessary.
Sneaking through the hedgerows and shrubbery was no easy feat. Guards patrolled in the distance, but Carlile had done his work, clearing their path. Still, they had to keep their heads down and eyes alert to ensure no one spotted them. The Keep pulled on Deckard with its call. As they drew nearer to it, the heat became a blanket over his back, urging him onward.
Out of nowhere, he noticed a shadow cast on the rear palace wall. But upon squinting, he realized that it wasn’t a wall at all but rather an illusion concealing the entrance to a slender passageway.
“There,” he whispered to Auden, directing him toward the shadow.
With a final scan of the grounds, they darted forward, hurrying into the passage. Darkness met them within, and they rushed down the staircase one by one.
“How is it,” Rafferty asked as they descended, “that no one’s found this before now?”
“The ancient Mages made the Keeps’ entrances impossible to see unless you are also a Mage, or it’s directly pointed out to you,” Auden explained.
“Yes, but—” Rafferty’s voice rose when they reached the antechamber, “this place is a thousand years old, right? How’d Ephren build his palace on top of it and the entrance remain so accessible if he couldn’t see it? It isn’t as if he’d knowingly harbor a Relic, right?”
“Magic would never allow the entrance to be truly blocked,” Auden said. “If you were to place a boulder over the entrance, it would simply turn the rock into its new entrance. If you were to seal it with plaster, it would create another opening.”
“How does it do that?” Thom asked. “I didn’t think it was sentient.”
“It isn’t,” Ilain said. “But it is alive.”
“That’s confusing,” Thom noted.
As he ignored their banter, Deckard’s blood now pulsed erratically. His skin was covered in gooseflesh despite the heat coiling within. An unknown tug drew him a step forward, and a strange black light flooded the hall before him. Somehow, the blackness refracted in such a way that it gave off the brightest brilliance, almost like the light of the moons on a cloudless night.
“Wow,” Rafferty said dryly, stepping up to his side. “That’s creepy.”
A smattering of nervous laughter filled the antechamber, yet Deckard was silent, staring down the arched hallway. The iron door to the Keep lay ahead, and his magic eagerly anticipated his touch. It buzzed under his skin. Desperately, he reminded himself that whatever lay beyond that door, he couldn’t lose control.
Evylin’s hand brushed his arm. He looked down at her, catching the wave of encouragement she sent his way. When their eyes met, she smiled, the Night sword already glowing violet in her hand. Its purple beam almost looked dull next to the black light of the windows. “Together,” she whispered.
Deckard dipped his chin in gratitude, his heart swelling with a sudden assurance. He could do this. With Evylin at his side, there was nothing to fear.
Auden moved for the door, but Ilain caught his sleeve. Then she looked at Deckard. “Jonn,” she said, nodding to the hall, “this is your Keep. You should do the honors.”
Though his throat went dry at the thought, Deckard gathered every last ounce of courage and began walking down the hall. The arched windows depicted swirling cosmoses, planets, and small stars. Through the light, he could almost see a rainbow of colors glittering at him.
Deckard stopped before the large iron door, its face etched with the same designs. His hand trembled at his side. He wasn’t sure whether it was from anxiety or anticipation.
“What is it you say?” Deckard asked, looking over his shoulder at the Calders. “Into the fray?”
