Page 92 of What Beats Within the Tunnels

Nyx’s calm voice counters, “Lyra is not your typical dark Sorcerer. She’s different, and if you’d give her a chance you’d see it for yourself.” I feel my fists clenching beneath the table, trying to restrain the rising anger.

Drew chimes in, “Killing her won’t end this. Another dark Sorcerer will emerge in her stead. She’s not the problem.” I can’t help but nod in agreement, frustrated by the narrow-mindedness of the conversation.

Larc speaks thoughtfully, “I may not know the princess well personally, but she has faced betrayal from the Lycans and still chose kindness over vengeance. That says a lot about her character. Is it not possible that she can harness this dark magic you all fear?” A sense of relief washes over me hearing Larc’s rational perspective. Roland might have met his match.

“No, it’s impossible,” Roland spits out. “No one has ever tamed such a force, and now it’s in the hands of a woman. She’ll be consumed by the darkness, and you all will regret the day you didn’t act when she was vulnerable.”

What he says about Lyra ignites something feral within me. Before I even process my own actions, my magic responds to my fury.

His chair is violently pushed backward, crashing into the wall. From the corners of my eyes, I swear the shadows part for him. I channel my power and summon roots from deep within the earth. They rupture the solid concrete walls of the hive, seizing him in their grasp. They wrap around his limbs, snaking their way up to his throat.

Auelina’s horrified scream pierces the room. It’s the first time I’ve heard her voice since the meeting started. I can’t help but feel a pang of pity for her—spending a millennium married to this insufferable man must be a fate worse than death.

“Colton,” my mother’s voice is stern, her eyes reflecting her disapproval, “that’s enough.”

But my rage is focused solely on Roland. The roots constrict tighter around his throat, his gasps echoing my fury. Auelina’s desperate attempts to free him are in vain. Her power always seemed weak compared to the other elders.

“Colton, release him!” my father’s commanding voice booms.

With a surge of effort, I relinquish my hold, letting my magic dissipate. The roots retract, sinking back into the earth from whence they came.

“You’ve always been nothing more than a petulant child, easily set off by the slightest provocation. It’s a wonder how you’re not the biggest disappointment to your family, and it’s exactly why you’re not a member of this council,” Roland taunts, the malice evident in his voice.

“Enough, Roland,” my mother interjects, her voice carrying a mixture of anger and exhaustion.

I catch the slight slump in my father’s posture, a fleeting sign of his embarrassment. I can sense his unspoken wishes — he’s always desired a son more like Nyx, the picture of poise and restraint in such matters.

But I’ve had enough. Without a word, I tap into my magic, channeling out of that suffocating room. The weight on my chest lightens slightly with distance, and I take a deep breath. I know Drew will keep me informed of the council’s conclusions later. There’s only so much one can endure.

The echoing footsteps along the corridor remind me of how vast this hive is. I’m heading to Lyra’s door, drawn to see her, to hear her voice. But as I approach, doubt creeps in. I’m unsure about her state of mind, and the unresolved matters with Nyx hold me back. I can’t face her yet. I need to cool off.

Passing both of our rooms, I head toward the library. It’s the sanctuary I need right now, a place where I can find some peace and maybe answers. I think about Drew’s echosphere. Maybe it can offer me insights, help me see clearly.

My mother wants me to hide the truth, keep the secret buried. But everything in me screams against that. Love has always been about honesty. And even if I haven’t told Lyra how I feel yet, there’s no denying it to myself. I love her.

Chapter 33

Lyra

Perched on the edge of my bed, impatience gnaws at me. I long for Chepi’s presence, I miss him so much already, and the temptation to channel to him is tempting. However, a gut instinct tells me it’s best to wait until things stabilize in Zomea. Lili keeps him safe, I reassure myself. Ryella’s words echo in my mind, veiled and mysterious. Although Chepi’s life is intertwined with mine, she hinted he might inherit some of my new abilities. Could he possibly manifest his own dark magic?

A heavy sigh escapes me. The council meeting drags on, and the thought of them discussing my fate a few floors below is maddening. Through our tether, I sense Colton’s departure from the gathering. He’s close, somewhere down the hall, and he’s upset. Panic sets in. If he left without seeking me out, the meeting’s outcome must be bad. Or perhaps he’s learned of my indiscretion with Nyx.

I need to speak with Colton, to apologize, to confess that I’m confused and am unsure of my actions. Yet, right now, the urge to eavesdrop on the council meeting intensifies. I channel myself to the precise location Nyx mentioned, positioning myself outside the meeting doors. Earlier, I experimented with manipulating the shadows. Theoretically, they should aid me in seeing, hearing, and even concealing myself. Regardless of what the shadow fountain taught me about dark magic, I’m no expert—yet.

My previous attempts showed me mere fragments of conversations until the moment Colton thrust Roland against the wall. Being closer now, it should, in theory, be more effective. I glance at the shadow cast by a wall candle and tentatively touch it, feeling its cool embrace. Pushing my senses deeper into the shadow, I sense a faint vibration, reminiscent of a guitar string’s hum. This sensation reverberates through the hidden matrix of shadows throughout the castle, creating a complex tapestry. Refocusing on the council room’s door, I allow my consciousness to glide along one of these threads, and soon I find myself tucked in a corner of the council chamber. My proximity has amplified my perception. Everything seems clearer.

As I tune into the discussion, the voice of the woman next to Roland breaks through, “If the rumors about the Gholioth blood prove true, we should seal the bridge and end the girl’s life. There’s no need for extraction. If she dies, she’ll return to Zomea, taking the blood with her.” I haven’t caught her name yet, but her casual dismissal of my life stirs something inside me.

Auelina, as Roland identifies her, continues, “Granger, do you have a method to close the bridge? We can simply cast her back down, and she can sort it out with Euric. As long as we can seal it forever afterward, that solves everything. We rid ourselves of dark magic and restore the Gholioth blood to Zomea. With the blood back, Zomea will revive, and consequently Eguina will heal.”

Every time they refer to me as “the girl,” it feels like a slap in the face. Don’t I deserve the basic respect of being addressed by my name?

Granger’s voice fills the room, “Flora’s been persistent in seeking a solution, and she’s on the brink of a breakthrough.” My heart plunges. Flora, trying to shut the bridge? Despite my complicated past with Nyx, I thought she was my friend. Why would she wish such harm on me?

Nyx’s eyes sharpen as he turns his head to Colton’s father. “Flora hasn’t mentioned any of this to me. She’s working on the prophecy to protect Lyra, not to thrust her into harm’s way. This entire conversation is ludicrous. Granger, you’ve met her, and you’re aware of my feelings for her.”

“I apologize, Onyx,” Granger replies, a touch of regret in his tone, “Flora’s concern for you is genuine. But she also acknowledges the greater good. The bridge has become a threat, what with Sarrols and potentially even Euric emerging from it. It’s a risk we can’t afford.”