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I take the well-lit tunnel down further beneath the arena. There is a dripping sound, remnants of its history as a living cave forced into a manmade pathway. The skittering of small mammals over my feet almost causes me to lose my footing a few times. It feels like this path goes on for days, but I believe it is just my anxiety to get to Viola.
Abruptly, the path opens, and I’m standing in a vast, chilled room. It has several tunnels branching from it, high ceilings, and a rich carpet taking up a portion of the floor. One side holds a raised stage, and sconces line the walls, buzzing with Bliksem magic. It appears to be its own command center. There is a connection up on the wall and several tables and chairs throughout the room, laden with paperwork and empty glasses. The connection shows a steady stream of a rocky platform, currently devoid of life. Shelves and bookcases line the eastern wall, stuffed with old texts and pages. There is a mustiness of decay and cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling.
This area is on no maps of the city or the arena I have seen. There is no telling how long it’s been here or what it’s been used for. I search for any sign of who’s been here, knowing in my gut it’s Mace and Stone.
The sound of Mace and Stone entering the tunnel fills my ears, and I know they’ll be here any second. I am still trying to figure out where to go or how to get to Viola, and I’m running out of time.
My eyes land on an open book on the table, its pages yellowed with age and delicate to the touch.
It’s a book on the banishment of the Gods.
I flashback to the conversation I overheard Mace having with who I now know is Stone in the library. This must be the text Stone mentioned. I try my best to speed-read the pages open before me. “Blood pact…. connection… vessel… Fuck. This is why they want Viola,” I whisper to myself.
I look up and see Viola and Tulip entering the platform highlighted by the connection. Despite the grief that hangs over them like a storm cloud, they look pleased with themselves. I see Viola bend up to pick up her Witch’s Ladder.
Understanding the urgency Mace and Stone have had to get to her now, I swing my vision between the tunnels. None of them speak to me, so I throw myself forward, hoping I make the right choice.
Chapter 26
Viola
Tulipstandsbesideme,her body tremoring with excitement. I retrieve the Witch’s Ladder from where it lay, wrapped around the handle hidden in the rock face. I stroke a feather, whispering thanks as if it’s a living creature before I put it in my pocket for safekeeping.
I turn to face my travel companion. I grab her cheeks between my hands, and she looks up at me. “Tulip… I didn’t want you to travel with me at all.”
She grins widely. “I know. I saw how much I annoyed you.”
I nodded, hands still on her face and my eyes locked on hers. “I don’t know how, but you’ve grown on me so much. You are a bright light, forcing me to relinquish parts of me I felt were embedded in my soul. I feel like I was always supposed to find you. Who knows what the purpose was when you stumbled into that clearing.”
She smiles at that, her eyes sparkling.
“What I’m saying is, thanks for being here.” She wiggles from my grasp and bumps her shoulder against mine in a familial way.
“Thanks for letting me tag along. Now, let’s find out what an elevator is.”
My laugh surprises me, and I grab the rusted handle and pull with all my might. It scrapes my palms, drying the skin. I cringe at the feeling.
“I’ll need some help here, Tulip.” She also clutches the handle, and we strain to open the cover. The hinges are rusted, sealed tight in the rock face from years of disuse. With a groan and a lot of effort, we manage to open it a few inches.
“Can you hold it open for just a second, Tulip?”
She strains, legs firmly planted. “Sure, I can do this all day,” she puffs out. I search for anything to hold the door open, but before I can even start, she drops the door, and it slams shut loudly, ringing through the area. A few birds take off from their perches in the treetops. “Shit, I’m sorry. It’s just so damn heavy.”
I absentmindedly scratch at the base of my neck, trying to think of a way to prop the door open enough for us to slide in. We’re so close to salvation that I can taste it. If only we can figure out how to open this Godsdamned door.
The Ladder in my pocket heats again as if trying to get my attention. Maybe I’m losing my mind because this Ladder is starting to feel like a pet. My mind suddenly flashes to Hilda, my chicken back home. I made it to the elevator. I really will never see her again.
I pull out the Ladder, wincing at the contact. Scanning up and down the feathers, I try to remember what spells Winter can do. The last thing I want is to just pull a feather and cast an unknown spell, but what choice do I have? Tendrils of cold creep across my hairline, and my eyes are drawn to an ice-blue feather.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I pull the feather and feel a gust of frigid air vortex around me. A surge of overwhelming power fills my chest, my body buzzing with the spell. Cold drips down my arms, and I look down at my hands. My fingers are frozen, the tips turning white with the cold I do not seem to feel. The gusts of air around me solidify into tendrils of ice. They snake out from the whirlwind, climbing up the metal of the door. Tulip yelps and backs away as the ice lays across the hinges, freezing the metal. Underneath the casing of ice, the hinges look so delicate.
My toes press up against a large rock, and I heave it with both hands. Using all the strength I can muster, I throw it at the door. It hits with a deafening ringing that rattles my teeth. The ice shatters easily, taking the hinges of the door with it. “Tulip, get way back!” I yell, jumping to the side. She moves, and the door teeters and falls to the ground with a roar.
The gyre of ice around me slows and drops to the ground in a mist of water. It’s cool and refreshing on my sun and exertion heated skin. Dust that flew up with the impact of the boulder and door drifts away on a cool breeze. We cough and sputter, dirt filling our lungs and watering our eyes. As it clears, we squint against the sunlight to see behind the door.
There, on the side of the mountain, is a small room with a cage on the front. And inside it is a lever. I look to my left to see Tulip, eyes wide with excitement that I have no doubt is reflected in my own.
“So that’s an elevator,” Tulip muses.
