Page 30 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

“Not alone,” I said. “But I might be able to see it.”

I drew a slow breath and reached inward, past the volatile edge of my own power to the quieter thread that tied me to Raven. Her magic had always felt like silk—soft, patient, threaded with something impossibly ancient. I brushed against it now, just a whisper, letting my energy slide along the bond we shared.

A spark. Then warmth.

The air shifted. The edges of reality bent. The scent of ozone bled into the cold stone damp of the cavern. Raven’s magic shimmered outward through me, threads of violet light crawling across the walls in delicate, webbed patterns. The ground under our feet began to glow, responding like some buried nerve.

“Cass,” Con said quietly, the warning in his voice dulled by awe. “You’re lighting up the whole damn cave.”

“I know,” I whispered—and pushed harder.

The light spread, rippling away from my hands in a widening circle. Runes appeared one by one, surfacing like ink bleeding through parchment.

They were old. Older than the clans. Older than the covens. Circles inside circles, language knotted in ways that were never meant for mortal tongues. They burned a deep-red at first, then softened into molten-gold, etching themselves into the stone until the entire cavern glowed.

Con stepped back, shielding his eyes. “What are they?”

“Locks,” I breathed. “Layered seals. They’ve been dormant for centuries, but they’re still feeding on the ley lines. Whoever hid the artifact didn’t just bury it—they built a temple around it.”

The vibration under my boots grew stronger, the resonance climbing my arms. I pressed both palms flat against the nearest sigil. It was warm—alive—and it recognized me. The bond through Raven made the connection instant.

“Cass, wait—” Con started, but it was already too late.

The sigils flared, gold flaring to white. The cavern shuddered, dust drifting from the unseen ceiling as the magic roared awake. The walls rippled, wavering like heat over sunbaked stone. For a heartbeat, I couldn’t tell where rock ended and air began.

Then the illusion broke.

The floor split along a perfect seam, stone folding back like the cover of a book. Light poured up from below—soft, steady, golden. The rough cavern walls dissolved, peeling away to reveal carved columns, sweeping archways, and symbols etched into black marble.

A hidden temple, buried beneath centuries of earth and spellwork.

The structure glimmered with residual power. The air inside was warm and dry, touched with the ghost of incense. Stained-glass windows—impossible this deep underground—lined the walls, their colors lit by illusory sunlight conjured inside the rock.

I stepped forward, boots echoing on polished stone as I crossed the threshold. The ceiling soared high overhead, swallowed by shadow, but the pull at the far end of the chamber was unmistakable.

“There,” I said, nodding toward the raised dais at the center. “That’s where it is.”

Con followed, moving with wary grace. “You’re sure?”

I glanced back at him, the glow from the sigils gilding the angles of his face. “I don’t need to see it to know,” I said softly. “It’s there.”

The artifact’s heartbeat thrummed through the air now—steady, patient, almost welcoming. Whatever waited in that hidden chamber had been locked here for centuries—forgotten by its makers, but never truly asleep.

And I couldn’t shake the feeling that it had been waiting for me.

We moved deeper into the temple. The mountain’s wet chill was gone, replaced by the dry, charged atmosphere of preserved magic. The silence here was absolute, the kind that pressed in on the ears until even breathing felt too loud.

Gold from the outer sigils seeped along the carved archways like veins of molten metal. The chamber opened wide—a cathedral carved straight out of the mountain’s heart. Massive black pillars rose from the floor, each one etched with runes worn nearly smooth by time. A pale, sourceless light drifted down from above, catching the dust in the air and turning it into a slow galaxy.

Con walked at my side, blade drawn, steps unnervingly quiet. Somewhere in the distance, water dripped in a steady rhythm, like the temple’s own metronome.

“Careful,” I said. “Don’t touch anything.”

His mouth twitched. “Do I look like the curious type?”

“Yes.”

That earned me a soft huff of amusement.