29. Sybil

Chapter 29

Sybil

I 've got you," Aramis whispers, his warm hands enveloping my wrists. I can feel the rough texture of the crumbled stone beneath my fingertips as he helps me scramble up. Collapsing on my back, I feel the jagged edges of the ground pressing against me as I pant and shake with the adrenaline that surges through my body.

"Th-thank you," I whisper, pushing myself into a sitting position. The musty scent of ichor and stone fills my nostrils as darkness engulfs us once again. Nero's butterflies are nowhere to be seen. My magic responds effortlessly, my hands emitting an ethereal glow illuminating the cramped space around us. Before me, a gaping hole in the floor runs where I had just been standing, encompassing the entire width of the tunnel.

I turn my head and see Phoebe and Aries dusting themselves. There's blood running down Phoebe's face from a small cut on her forehead. Aries tears a strip of his tunic off and helps the shifter tie it around her head to block the blood from falling in her eyes. "Are you safe? Where is Nero, Marcelene and Axton?" I ask anxiously.

"We are safe," Aries confirms, although I see him limping. "What the fuck happened?"

"Nero!" Aramis calls out, his body tense as he scans the tunnel in my dim light. A chilling dread settles in my stomach as the silence resonates.

"How far down do you think it goes?" Aries asks, kicking a pebble toward the dark crevasse. I wait with bated breath, anxious to know the answer. The pebble bounces off the rocky surface, descending further and further until we can no longer hear it.

Terrible doubts start creeping in but no one dares to voice the possibility.

"Do you think it's safe? Why did the floor just collapse here?" I wonder, feeling out for anything amiss with my magic. "Do you think we could climb down?"

"There must have been a trap set to trigger the floor to collapse," Aramis says, feeling along the wall. He slams a fist into the stone. "Goddess damnit."

"I'm sure between the two of them, they'll be able to wrangle Axton and find us," I say.

"It's like they've disappeared into thin air," he says, with an exacerbated sigh. "You think they'd call up to us if–"

"I'm sure they're too far down for us to hear. Let's keep going. Perhaps we will find them further along," I whisper, squeezing his forearm. "I don't know much about dragons, but I know they protect their treasure hoard at all costs."

Silently, we backtrack to the other tunnel, making quick work of it. As we reach the broad landing of the cave opening, with its piles of bones, a shiver runs down my spine. I pull the dagger from the sheath at my side, relishing in its comforting weight in my hand.

"Sybil," Aramis says. I pause, turning to face him. He pulls me into the embrace of his strong arms, the warmth of his touch enveloping me. "I know this probably isn't the best time, but I- I don't know if we'll make it out of here alive." Our lips meet in a fevered, desperate kiss, igniting a rush of passion unlike his gentle teasing in the forest. As we part, our rapid breaths fill the air, mingling with the sound of our racing hearts. His hand tenderly cradles the side of my face, sending shivers down my spine. "I love you, Sybil Vandeleur."

"I–"

A growl reverberates through the air and the three of us shrink against the wall.

"Fuck, I think we've found our dragon," Aramis whispers, gesturing to follow him. "Let's go."

Phoebe and I cautiously follow Aramis as he leads us further into the widening tunnel, the scent of burning wood growing stronger with each step. Aries follows us, taking up the rear. I grip my dagger tightly, ready for whatever may come our way. As the tunnel takes a sharp turn, Aramis lifts a finger to his lips and my heart beats wildly in my chest as he disappears into the darkness ahead. Phoebe grabs my arm, claws digging into my flesh as another growl reverberates through the tunnel. Sweat beats my skin from the growing heat coming from the end of the tunnel. It mixes with the dust still clinging to every inch of me and my tattered clothes, making me feel itchy and uncomfortable. A moment later, Aramis appears again, gesturing us forward.

My breath catches as I round the corner into a vast chamber, illuminated by the flickering flow of the torches hanging off the rocky walls, its ceiling so high every sound echoes and I wonder how close it is to the mountain peak. The chamber is filled with so many riches that I wonder how it's possible that there's still gold left in Craeweth. Our eyes widen as we take in the dragon's treasure trove. Ancient tapestries adorn the chamber depicting kings and queens of old, the Goddess herself and creatures so ancient they no longer roam this earth. Despite their faded colors, the intricate patterns are still visible; some shine of their own accord as threads of gold are woven within the complex designs. The air is heavy with the scent of musty parchment and richness made of gold, silver and bronze. Heaps of golden coins of every shape imaginable form shimmering hills, reflecting the soft glow of the torches. Scrolls and books, aged and weathered, are haphazardly stacked against a wall next to piles of glistening gems of every cut and color, their beauty almost blinding.

"How will we ever find the book in this massive trove?" I whisper, apprehension twisting my gut. "We don't even know what it looks like."

I glance toward Aramis, who stands silently by my side, one hand holding his sword before him, the other clutching his chest.

"I hate to say it, but this is the first time I wish we had Axton with us," Phoebe whispers by my side and I give her a pursed lips nod. The thief had proven little worth saving getting us here, but he is the only one with intimate knowledge of what we're looking for.

"We don't have any other option but to find it," Aramis says, raking a hand through his dulled hair from all the dust he had collected. "Sybil and Phoebe, have a look around the chamber; me and Aries will stand guard by the entrance."

I nod and immediately make my way to the books at the far wall. Standing on the tips on my feet, I stretch my neck, trying to read the titles of some of the ancient books stacked on top of each other. The smell of old leather and paper pulls me back to the library of Harpalyke, and I can't help but think about Cassara and Talia. What will they say if Marcelene... No. I push the intrusive thought out of my mind and keep looking.

My fingers itch, wanting to pick up every one of these books and scroll through the pages. Some of the books are so old, the golden foil of the title is gone, making them hard to read. Others are written in symbols I have never seen before. There's a book whose cover is made from the bark of a tree, whilst another is written on plates of silver so thin and shiny it's like looking into a mirror.

As I keep walking, however, my attention is pulled toward a lone painting resting against the wall of the chamber. Its thick wooden frame has seen better days. The colors have lost their saturation, but the more I look at the drawing itself, the more enthralled I become.

There's a unicorn on top of a mountain ledge. Storm clouds cover the sky, but the sun gloriously peaks out, bathing the rearing unicorn in golden light. It's difficult to interpret whether the unicorn is rearing out of celebration or distress. At the foot of the mountain lies a figure. A man, at first, then a woman. The man has golden hair and lies on his back, sword plunged in his chest. But then it's a woman. She too has golden hair with black ink running up her arms, her face sunken in as if life itself has been sucked out of her. Strange.

Come closer, let me show you! A melodic voice lulls in my head, and I step forward.

The painting changes. There's a wolf with dark fur hiding in a corner, lonely but loyal. A fox sits by the unicorn, its head tilted as if the fox too is trying to discern whether the figure at the bottom of the mountain is a man or a woman. Suddenly, it's a man again, and a river of crimson runs from his chest wound.

It's us! I turn to tell the others, but the words die in my throat. It's a painting of the four of us, but something is not right. Aramis should be by my side, like he promised. Until the end of time itself.

Pick me up, you'll see better! The voice begs, sweet like honey, and the man turns into the woman again. That's better.

I stretch out my arms, hands so close to the wooden frame I can practically feel its texture on my fingertips. Before I can touch it, a jolt of magic rushes through my right hand from my family crest ring.

"Ouch!" I cradle my aching hand and examine my ring, but nothing seems amiss. Until I lower my gaze to the painting again and the canvas is empty. I rub my eyes, trying to make sense of what happened and it dawns on me.

"Bespelled," I whisper as I step back from the painting. "Everything is bespelled!"

I turn and see Phoebe leaning down, hand outstretched toward a golden chalice with intricate carvings of the sun and moon embraced. The shine of the metal reflects in her green eyes, her fingertips almost shaking from the desire of owning this artifact. I run across the chamber, careful to avoid any of the riches laying precariously on the floor. I reach out, grabbing her by the wrist, and she snaps her head in my direction, her teeth almost baring at me. Slowly, I shake my head and see the haze of the enchantment vanishing from her eyes.

"What—" She retracts her hand, confusion etched on her face.

"We cannot touch anything. Everything seems to be bespelled to ward off thieves. Stay away from the objects. They like to talk," I explain and notice Aries and Aramis with their hands on their hilts, on the ready to take on a threat that is not there.

"Brilliant. As if the threat of being eaten alive by a dragon was not enough, now I need to worry about getting cursed by a cup," Aries rolls his eyes, looking suspiciously around the room.

"But what about the book?" Phoebe asks, rubbing her wrist. I wince apologetically, and she smiles in return.

"We will have to deal with that when we get there. Better not alert the dragon or trigger anything else before we do."

"You said in the library you could feel the power radiating off some of the books. Could you try to sense it?" Aramis suggests.

"If the Book of Light works the same way the Book of Darkness does, it'll emanate a power so strong it will be impossible to miss. I wasn't even near it and felt like a clawed hand wrapped around my neck urging me to come closer. It's as if it were alive," Phoebe explains. "Because you, Sybil, and the Book of Light share the same raw magic, it should be like looking for a part of yourself."

"That's a good point." I take a deep breath, close my eyes and focus on the room.

My magic hums to life under my skin and I feel the golden thread between Aramis and myself. I reach further, letting it flow freely through me, while keeping hold of my control. When I feel steady, I slowly exhale and let the power become me, just as Alexander had taught me. The light cursing through me feels exhilarating. It begs for more release and tastes sweet on my tongue, promising me invincibility. It would be so easy to let go; the power is right there for me to revel in. But images of the basilisk attack come rushing back. The feeling of my skin and insides burning as my power became uncontainable by my mortal enclosure. Getting so close to disintegrating both friend and foe.

Like blowing out a candle, I compress my magic and tuck it back into the deepest recesses of my soul. I cannot lose control again, not when my friends are in danger.

I stare at the stone ceiling, charred with smoke and ash. Hot tears line my eyes as I think of Rose's words. Alpheaia's words. They had chosen wrong. I wasn't strong enough for this. I cannot control this power. I am a liability. I can't even find a single book.

You have to choose someone else! I internally scream as my chest constricts.

I open my eyes to Aramis and Phoebe staring at me expectantly.

"Nothing." I sigh, head dropping. "I sense nothing. I don't think it's here."