Page 4 of By the Flames of Her Fury

The tightly-packed dirt floor shifted and sent rocks clattering under our feet. The sound jolted through me, sharp and sudden.

Chains rattled against the stone. Distant cries echoed off the walls, ringing in my head like a mangled symphony. A wave of pain ripped down my spine when he plunged the needle in my arm again. My magic was strangled as my blood boiled, and claws scraped beneath my skin.

“Just breathe, Songbird,” a quiet voice murmured. I counted my breaths, pushing past the agony and crawling toward his voice. “Breathe with me. It’ll pass, you just have to breathe.”

I sucked in a breath as a rock slid out from under me and I stumbled, only for Starke’s hand to steady me. His fingers lingered on my arm before I quickly pulled away, my chest tight.

A crunching sound made us jerk our heads to the right, down a darkened stretch of tunnel. Without thinking twice, I crept forward, heart hammering in my ears. If I had my powers, I could light the darkness in an instant, but magic didn’t exist here. I hadn’t felt mine since I left the borders of the Veridian Empire. I didn’t necessarily miss it, though. Magic made things convenient, sure, but the more you had, the more people wanted to use you. Besides, being without them heightened the thrill of the chase. The racing adrenaline, the bite of fear, the truth that I had nothing up my sleeves if we ran into trouble.

It was often the only way to know I was still capable of feeling something.

Shadows flickered off the walls from light cast by Starke’s lantern. I held my breath as we rounded another bend and stopped.

The passage ended in a solid wall of rock.

Starke exhaled in relief. “That’s it, then. Dead end. Time to go before the patrol catches us.”

But I stepped forward with a frown, taking in the wall. Why would it just end? Where were the sounds coming from?

When I squinted, I spotted dozens of thin cracks veining the surface of the red rock, spidering outward in uneven lines. I knelt and felt along the floor, my fingers tracing a gap at the bottom. A flicker of wind licked the tips of my fingers.

“It’s not a dead end, it’s just sealed,” I breathed out.

I set my pack down, pulled a tiny chisel from inside, and began tapping at the bottom. The sound echoed sharply through the tunnel. Starke nudged my shoulder. “Here,” he said, pulling a small mallet from a belt strapped to his waist.

That’s more like it. I grinned up at him and grabbed the handle. “Stand back.”

I drove the mallet into the wall several times. With one last, powerful swing, the final crack split the air like thunder. Dust billowed outward, and the slab of rock caved in on itself, shattering in piles at our feet. Light from the lantern spilled into the darkness beyond. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.

I pressed my lips together. “I think you may need some help salvaging this, Captain.”

I’d never seen so many bodies. And they were so old. Hundreds of brittle, graying bones littered the circular cavern. It looked like a burial ground. Fractured skulls and ribcages were scattered among the rocks, with spider carcasses and beetles nestled in eye sockets. Some half-constructed skeletons were propped against the wall as if they’d been sitting. Cobwebs hung from every corner, and old weapons lay rusted among the coppery dirt. I picked one of the swords up by the handle, then hastily dropped it when a tiny snake wound its way up the blade.

Starke whistled. “What do you think happened here?”

“They probably got caught by the patrol.” When he shot me a glare, I smirked. “Kidding.”

He moved across the cave, bones and rocks crunching beneath his feet. “Looks like pirates tried to loot the island and got trapped.” He set his lantern down and unsheathed his own sword. Using the tip, he gingerly lifted a tarnished gold chain from around a skeleton’s neck. “I don’t recognize the guild on this crest.”

I strode over to him. The front of the crest caught the lanternlight, gleaming a brilliant gold before Starke’s blade dropped it. But for a split second, I saw something.

I crouched before the skeleton, breaking through a cobweb to grab the end of the chain. Resting against my palm was a circular token, darkened at the edges but obviously an expensive piece of pure gold. That wasn’t what got my attention, though.

In the center was a bird, with striking, sharp wings extended majestically at its sides. Its plumed tail curved around the edge of the token. A beady eye made of a tiny ruby glinted back at me, as if it were winking.

A phoenix.

And the wings…they looked like mine.

My breath caught in my throat. Could this be a sign of why Mortep was spotted down here? He had always been obsessed with rare magic, and my phoenix Shifter form made me the rarest of them all. Enough to make him dig around in my mind and body to figure out what made me tick.

I swiftly yanked the chain, cracking the skeleton’s spine and sending his head toppling to the ground.

Starke tutted. “No respect for the dead.”

I winced. Maybe it was a little insensitive of me, dead bodies and lost souls and whatnot. In a way, I felt connected to this dusty old captain. I knew what it was like to feel as hollow as a skeleton. A lifeless husk. Sometimes I still felt that way, when the memories of chains dug into my wrists, the needles and serums plunged into my skin.

“Mortep was here,” I said, clutching the token before pocketing it.