Page 106 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

“Question is, why would it want to escape if it is under his control?” Mal asked, studying the broken wall. “I’m sure it would know this place has a main entrance.”

“Like all of his previous monsters wanted to.” I turned to face him. “Why would you assume it is willingly serving my father?” Why would anyone want to serve my father? Why did I feel sorry for it, too?

I got to my feet and searched the rooms one after the other. A thick layer of dust had coated on my tongue by the time I reached the last door, only to find it locked.

My kicks were nothing like Mal’s, but I did put almost all of my strength in them. The door, however, didn’t even budge.

With a sigh, I turn to Mal. “Leaving a lady to struggle?”

“And miss the entertainment?” He kicked the door, and the wood didn’t even shiver.

“Move,” I said, pulling him back. I rested my hand on the door and a kick of electricity skittered over it. There was a smell of charred wood, yet nothing was burning.

Some of the dust flaked off from the wood, and at the centre of the door, there were a few odd lines. Some familiar and some not. Tracing a finger over them, I tried to memorise their shape. I cursed my patched memory when nothing would come up when I tried to think of whom or what my uncle kept here back then.

“Snow.” Mal pulled me back as something came crawling onto the wood. Several woodlouse, roaches and blackflies began creeping from all over the sides of the door, enshrouding it.

“Dark craft,” I murmured. Tinge of mint and dark wood filled the air. “Melanthe.”

The two of us jumped back when a thud shook the door from the other side. Then another and another, till the wood quivered on its hinges and the insects went flying in our direction.

“Something is wrong,” Mal said, pulling me tightly to his side.

The sound of rock sliding over rock dragged our attention to the broken wall that was no longer a broken wall. When the last square of rock slid into place, the corridor enshrouded in darkness.

My pulse picked up once we were veiled in obscurity. “A trap.”

Mal clasped my hand tight. “Fuck,” he hissed. “I cannot fade us.”

A harrowing roar boomed around the desolate space and Mal pulled me to a run.

“I…I cannot see,” I said, spinning my head round in search for just a tiny fragment of light.

“I’ve got you,” Mal said, pulling me closer to him as we hurried away from the beast. “Stairs, Snow. Follow the sound of my steps.”

A splitting sound echoed as we reached the ground floor and then the same roar boomed without the constriction of the room.

Hairs rose at the back of my neck when heavy footsteps chased behind us. I felt the wind trickle and shift behind me, and I blindly reached for my dagger—throwing it aimlessly in the direction the thing was chasing us. It had landed on flesh as the blade didn’t clatter on the floor or wall.

“Hold on,” Mal shouted, rounding me with arms close to his chest. He suddenly skidded to a halt, spinning in place where his body met wood with a thud. The door splintered and I winced when the brightness filtered through. The thrust of the crash sent Mal and I flying onto the snowy ground.

He groaned in pain from bearing all the force of the impact, but still held onto me tightly. “Are you alright?”

I nodded, moving off him and helping him stand.

A pair of viridescent halos glistened from the abyss of the prison tower, its white breath misting in the black air. The way every sense in my body vibrated with scourging terror was one I’d never felt before but at the same time knew very well off. A recognition of sorts, like an old fear or something I was used to.

Mal pulled me behind him like I needed protection and a thick taste of magic wafted in the air. Skeletons broke the snow-covered surface, all surrounding us, and a dusting of shadows began materialising in the air like a shield of protection.

No one moved.

Not us. Not the skeletal forms of the dead protecting us. Not the beast either.

It only stood there. Huffing and puffing white air.

Was it trapped? Why was it not attacking us?

Mal pulled me to him ready to fade us. “No,” I said, lifting a hand to stop him. “Wait.” Strange, why was its stare so levelled to ours?