Page 74 of Cursebreaker

Gabriel grunts. “I’d like to see his mark.”

Owen snorts. “At least take him out to dinner first, mate.”

“Might not matter either way,” I say. “The mark, not dinner,” I add quickly, rolling my eyes. The three of them stare at me, confounded. I shrug. “Loopholes.”

Owen’s smile returns. “Well, we either follow him and hopefully find someone to read this,” he says coolly, tapping the shield, “or take our chances elsewhere.”

“I suppose that settles it.” I take the lead.

Darius stokes the hearth in his small, disheveled living quarters connected to the Leaping Lizard.

“Come in, come in,” Darius says.

Owen and I share a look. Gabriel’s shoulders tense.

“We were told you could help us read this,” Owen says, tapping the shield once more. “How?”

“Not me,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “No. No. But—but I know someone who can.”

Titus and Gabriel exchange a wary glance. Owen sucks his teeth.

“Quickly,” Darius says as he skirts past us, pushing the sofa aside. “Morana has spies everywhere. They could already know you’re here.” He lifts the lip of the yellow rug, revealing a hatch. He opens it, motioning for us to climb down the rickety ladder into the pitch-black depths. “I wouldn’t trust me, either,” he says. “But I’m afraid it’s your only choice.”

Owen claps his hands together. “Shall we?”

He’s the first to climb down. Gabriel follows, then me, then Titus.

“Long live the heir,” Darius says, closing the hatch before anyone can say otherwise. He covers it with the rug, blocking the light that filters down through the slivers in the wood. The sofa groans as he moves it back into place, sealing us in darkness.

The underground tunnels seem to stretch for miles with no escape, our only source of light the occasional match Owen strikes against the dry cave wall.

“Gabriel,” Owen calls from ahead, “can you sense anything?”

Gabriel is silent for so long I begin to wonder if we’ve lost him somewhere in the maze. “I think so,” he says finally. “There’s something up ahead. I can sense… wood.”

“That’s”—Owen pops his lips—“ helpful. Any idea how far?”

“No.”

“Even better.”

I start to think we’ll never reach the end when Owen breathes a long, low sigh of relief.

“Thank the Stars!” He kisses something—loudly. “Gabriel, mate, you were right.” He smacks the wooden ladder, as if testing its strength. “Wood!” He laughs. “What a talent.”

He starts climbing the ladder, but—

“Wait!” Gabriel whispers. “It could be another trick. We don’t know what’s waiting for us up there.”

Owen nods, considering. “Only one way to find out.” He takes a knife from his belt and holds the hilt between his teeth. Winks.

But just as soon as Owen reaches the top, a hatch opens above, revealing an elderly woman with hair as gray as a storm cloud and eyes like pale silver moons.

She quirks a brow. “I don’t suppose you were planning to knock.”

Titus staggers backward a step, but a surprised smile lights in his eyes. “Batya?”

Her mischievous grin reminds me of Bellaflor, the Sorceress I first met on my way to Castle Grim. The woman looks between Owen and me, her gaze as soft and gentle as a comforting embrace. “Aster and Owen Oberon,” she says with a somewhat wistful sigh. “It’s been a very long time, hasn’t it?”