6. Sybil

Chapter 6

Sybil

S omeone is screaming.

The screeching sound rends the air, intensifying the throbbing in my temples. I try to open my eyes, but my face feels swollen. I don't remember falling asleep or having a headache. As I try to regain consciousness, a wave of nausea hits when my body starts to sway. I attempt to blink again, and as my vision finally clears, I see Lemon scamper across the ceiling toward me.

How did he get to the ceiling? I wonder in disbelief. You little rascal, always getting yourself into trouble.

I attempt to shift my shoulders and extend my limbs, but I can't. My body feels immobilized by constricting coils, and everything is numb—from my ankles up to my neck. What kind of condition is this? I wonder, healer brain taking over. I am soon distracted by Lemon standing on his hind legs trying to get my attention. That's when I realize–with utter terror–that he is not on the ceiling but on the floor. Which means...

No, no, no, this can't be happening!

I peer at the sticky strands of web wrapped tightly around my torso and follow them up to the ceiling of the chamber from which I am hanging, like an animal for slaughter. From this height, I can see the intricate web work Arkin has created. His pearlescent strands are woven from wall to wall, a canopy that is as beautiful as it is dangerous.I look at the rocky ground under me, littered with bones,and my breathing accelerates as I wonder how many of my bones I'll break if I fall from here.

"Okay," I whisper to myself, hoping it'll help me clear my mind despite all the blood flowing to my head.

I haven't been eaten alive by a giant spider… yet. But I will, if I don't get out of here. The pounding of my pulse in my ears makes it hard to think but I fight past it. If only I could reach the knives tucked into my boots. The more I move, the tighter the cocoon seems to get, but then I remember. Someone was screaming.

I gasp as the spider screeches, the sound echoing off the small chamber. My eyes scan the ground again, and there, at the intersection between the chamber and one of the tunnels, I see blurred figures engaging in a fierce battle with the colossal spider.

My heart leaps in my chest as sweat breaks along my skin. Who else would be wandering through these tunnels? Is it foe or friend? Someone sent by Tricella to take me back to the kingdom? Or the help Aramis and Nero were looking for?

I am not staying around to take my chances.

Reaching deep inside, I stroke my well of magic. There's not much there but it'll have to do. I materialize my horn and begin rocking my body whilst engaging my abdominal muscles until I curl up, horn nicking and slicing through a few strands of web. I fall back upside down. My heartbeat pounds in my ears like a parade of drums, loud enough to cover the sounds of the fight happening on the ground. The air feels heavy, constricting my chest and making it hard to inhale and replenish my oxygen supply. Dizziness washes over me; I struggle to keep conscious.

Don't give up. A hero keeps trying, even when all hope is lost.

With renewed determination, I hold Kela's words close to my heart, take a deep breath and attempt again. This time,the strands loosen from my wrists to mid-thigh, but my energy wanes as the thick webs constrict my chest and breathing.

Out of the corner of my eye, Lemon scampers up one of the spider's legs, providing a momentary distraction while the three white and gray cloaked figures circle the creature.

It lets out an unholy scream as one of the figures procures a glowing cerulean ball of flame between their hands and sends it flying causing it to hasten backwards toward me.

"Terrible creaturess!" Arkin screeches as it flails, trying to extinguish its burning forelegs. Lemon runs along his back and takes a leap, landing on my bound body.

"Begone, Arkin. You are no longer welcome to wander these sacred tunnels. Seek your prey elsewhere, or feast on my blade," a strong feminine voice cries out as the tallest of the three pulls out a glowing silver blade.

"Arkin sshall eat you all!" Arkin cries as he lunges for the group. The smallest woman pulls a longbow from her back, takes aim, and shoots. The massive spider writhes on the ground, limbs flailing against the walls, knocking down more dust and webs as the arrow hits the joint between his body and foreleg.

"We offered you sanctuary in these tunnels from the shadow beasts under oath that you would not harm travelers seeking the library. You have not upheld your oath. Begone now." The smallest warrior advances, throwing back her hood where long blonde curls tumble around her shoulders, framing a porcelain face with high cheekbones, sharply pointed ears, and bright blue eyes.

"You will regret thiss," he hisses as he backs toward the nearest tunnel whose ground glows faintly with smeared lichen. He turns and flees, the scraping sound of his scuttling feet diminishing with each passing second.

Lemon, my nimble little creature, swiftly scampers up the intricately woven rope of glistening spider silk. With a graceful leap, he lands on me, his tiny paws gently touching the surface where I am suspended. Amidst his hurried chittering, he frantically tears at the delicate strands of the web that bind me.

A whoosh of feathers and the smallest warrior's body stretches until a winged creature with the head of an owl and the body of a tiger stands below me. At this point, with my vision starting to tunnel after being upside down for so long, I am not entirely sure if what I am seeing is real or a fruit of my imagination. The shifter pushes off the ground. Her wings whip wind into the small space as she uses sharp claws to slice through the bindings at my feet. She catches me and lowers me to the ground.

"Thank you." I wince, rubbing my hands and wiggling my feet as the returning blood flow bites painfully into my freed extremities. The chamber floor feels oddly unstable, and I worry I'll fall at any minute if I don't eat and drink something soon. Something this woman had said before shifting that had sliced through my dizzy haze and kept my eyes and ears wide open.

"Did you say the library? Is it the library of Harpalyke?"

"Yes, we are the white witches, guardians of Harpalyke. I am Cassara, that is Marcelene, and this–" She points up at the winged creature above us and to the other cloaked figure. "Is Thalia."

The witches. I have found the witches.

Forcing myself not to gawk in awe of the women before me, I stand a little taller and attempt to rake a hand through my locks, now knotted and matted with spider web. Before I can tell the witches about my mission and the help we need, I notice that the other witch, Thalia, is throwing a sharp glance in Cassara's direction, willing her to stop talking. She has her lips pressed together in a thin white line and assesses me as if I were a threat.

"Who are you, and why are you trespassing in these tunnels?" Thalia asks, pointing a finger at my chest. She is much taller than Cassara, with golden brown eyes and chocolate skin. Her arms are muscular, and her posture exudes the type of deadly agility that makes people cower at a simple glance. I am both in awe and terrified of this woman; a little part of me wishes I was her.

"What did you do to provoke Arkin to attack you? He's sworn peace to these tunnels for hundreds of years." She sheaths the blade, now faded to a dull glow, and crosses her arms over her chest, causing her dark black tight curls to bounce around her waist.

"I did nothing to provoke him," I reply, brow furrowing at her accusations. "I am Sybil Vandeleur and I seek the coven of the white witches who guard the Library of Harpalyke."

"Why?" Thalia raises an eyebrow, leaning back. I feel her raking gaze as she examines the disheveled state of my clothes, ripped from my fight and struggle with the spider. "Or better yet, how did you know of the library's existence?"

"I come seeking knowledge–"

She snorts, rolling her eyes. "The Library of Harpalyke is more than a place of knowledge. Why are you truly here?"

"I told you, I am–"

Before I can respond, she crouches, whips a dagger out, and holds it under my chin. The steel of the blade presses into my skin, but not enough to cut flesh.

"Have you come to steal from us, little thief?"

"Thalia," Cassara says, laying a hand on Thalia's forearms. "We do not know if she is friend or foe but it is not up to us to be the judge. We must present her to the high priestess."

"Steal from you? I've come to learn from you." My hands ball into fists at my side. I refuse to cower. I have faced deadlier things than a knife held at my neck. "Shadowvale is in danger. The people are being torn apart; shifters stolen for their magic by the queen–"

"Lies. This all sounds like blasphemy," Thalia says. "Our secrets have been guarded by the coven for hundreds of years since the library was first created. We helped broker the peace between Kallistar and Shadowvale after The Armaghdale War."

"I have been at the mercy of the queen's dark magic. She locked me in the tower for weeks while she stole my magic, my essence."

"Dark magic is forbidden," Cassara says, glancing at Thalia. This time, she complies, lowering her dagger.

"That is why I have come. She must be stopped. I have to find a way to free the people of Shadowvale from her reign?—"

"We would have known if there was a war going on out there!" Thalia interjects but I see doubt creeping into her gaze. I wonder then, if in keeping the library so secret, the witches too have kept themselves separate from everything else happening on the continent. Am I truly the first person telling them about the atrocities happening out there?

The cat-like creature lands beside Thalia with a ruffle of feathers. Her limbs elongate, feathers and fur replaced by silken, honey-colored skin until she stands proud and tall before me.

"So fiesty," she says in a melodic voice, flashing me a toothy grin, her green eyes twinkling. She wraps her long, lavender blonde hair into a bun atop her head and secures it with a leather ribbon. "I'm Marcelene. So you've come to take down an evil queen. That sounds like a fairytale to me."

"What are you?" I tilt my head to the side, watching her tail flick back and forth behind her. I turn my eyes back to Thalia. "For that matter, how did you find me? I haven't seen a soul since I entered the tunnel, save for Arkin." My eyebrows raise as I push myself up to standing. She reaches out a steadying arm, grabbing my elbow as I sway on my feet. "I've never heard or seen shifters of your kind before."

Cassara points to Lemon, who pokes his head out of his pocket. "I was going about my nightly guard patrol of the tunnels closest to the library when this scoundrel tried to make off with one of my silver arrowheads." She pulls one from the fletching, the silver tip shining in the light of the flame orb bobbing merrily above our head.

"Lemon," I groan, rolling my eyes. Of course that little rascal would run off for help but get distracted by the first shiny object he sees.

"As for what I and Marcelene are, many of the guardians of Harpalyke are meowls. We are an ancient and rare species of shifter granted flight of the snowy owl and strength of the white tigers. The library is a sanctuary to many species; fae, elementals, shifters and spirits all live here in harmony, learning from each other. We've even had a few humans; however it has been nearly half a century since–"

"Come," Thalia says rudely, interrupting Cassara. "Now is not the time for a history lesson. We must seek the counsel of the high priestess to determine the truth to her words."

Lemon protectively scampers up my shoulder and holds on tight to a strand of hair. Meeting the high priestess is exactly what I need. She'll be able to tell me why Queen Rose sent me here and how we can defeat Tricella.

"Look at her, Thalia, does she really look like a wicked thief to you? She's barely skin and bones. It's a wonder Arkin wanted to eat her at all. What she could use is a hot soak and a good meal. A brush wouldn't hurt either," she says with a grin, cocking her head. "Cassara, you can't save every poor creature you stumble upon. The high priestess will decide?—"

"She's right," I say, stepping forward in Thalia's direction. "I should meet the high priestess."

I meet the warrior's eyes with determination, and she's both surprised and suspicious by my eagerness to meet her superior. Without hesitating, she cuts a piece of web free and grabs my arm, pulling it behind my back.

"What are you doing?" My heart races in my chest and I pull away, but she holds fast, restraining my wrists with the sticky rope.

"Precautionary. Until the high priestess decides your fate. There are many who have sought sanctuary in the library, we cannot risk their lives."

"I have not come to hurt anyone; I am a healer." My throat constricts, heat licking into my cheeks. I failed to save Kela because I wasn't strong enough. Could I even call myself a healer anymore?

"What kind of healer comes armed to the teeth?" She asks, pulling the hidden dagger from my boot and holding it in front of my face. "Granted, Arkin had you strung up like second breakfast, so maybe you aren't as much of a threat." She shrugs and tucks the blade into the belt at her waist.

"Are you seriously suggesting I venture into a mysterious forest, where lurking shadow beasts and countless other unknown creatures await, while the relentless queen hunts me down, completely defenseless?" I pull at my restrained arms and try to get a glimpse of the witch now standing behind me. Cassara and Marcelene watch us bicker with their hands crossed over their chests, and I could have sworn Marcelene rolled her eyes at every word uttered by Thalia.

"You seem to have a lot going on, Sybil." Her sarcasm does not go unnoticed, but I bite my tongue and remind myself that there's a reason why she is being so thorough. The library is known to hold immense power, the answers to questions that have not yet been asked. It is the temple of knowledge, the beating heart of every civilization in Craeweth, having avidly conserved and collected memories and secrets from those who came before. However, knowledge unchecked and in greedy hands can lead to terrible consequences. Hence why the library's location and workings have been kept a secret so fiercely guarded, that the entire existence of Harpalyke has started to be questioned. So, Thalia's dedication is truly testament to her vow as sworn protector.

"Cassara, Marcelene," she continues. "Make sure she doesn't escape."

I stumble as she pushes past me, leading the way down the middle dark tunnel, the mage light bobbing above her head.

"What about Arkin? That tunnel he went down–" I nod to the ground where there is evidence of my smeared lichen. "That's the tunnel I've been traveling down. There was an avalanche, he won't be able to escape."

"Brilliant maneuver, with the lichen. How long have you been wandering the tunnels?" Cassara says as she scoops my dusty and worn pack from the ground before holding onto my elbow.

"I can't say for certain; I lost track of time without the sun." I bite at my dry bottom lip. "I ran out of water before I came upon this cavern, but we had packed enough food to take us to the rebel camp."

"We?" Marcelene asks from my other sideas we head after Thalia, glancing down at the bruised discarded apple at its entrance.

"Before the avalanche, there was a group of four of us. We were ambushed by the queen's beasts. Kela, she–" My throat constricts, chest tightening painfully with tears lining my eyes as I think of her sweet face, laughing as she turns and offers me a freshly baked pastry. "She didn't make it. She was wounded and I didn't have enough magic left to heal her."

"Life is fragile, but she runs in the lands of the Goddess now, may she be blessed." Marcelene pats my forearm. "Grief is a heavy burden, but those who pass to the other side are not wholly gone from us. They watch and guide us."

"And of your other companions?" Cassara brushes a web from her face.

"I do not know what has become of them." I stroke the golden thread praying for any sense of Aramis or Nero, but I am met by silence. "They were outside the cave, taking watch when we were separated. I only hope they have made it safely to the rebel camp."

"I'm sure they are alright and looking for you now." She smiles at me. "But only those granted passage can enter the tunnels and find the library. Rest assured we can scry for them when we return to the library."

"How did you find your way here?" Marcelene asks as we're walking, cocking her head in my direction, her eyes filled with curiosity.

"There are stories about the library being lost for a reason," she continues. "We don't often have guests and those who come, rarely leave as they either join us, or..." She grins and raises her shoulders, reminding me that even though these women are welcoming to me, they are still the white witches of Harpalyke, sworn protectors of the library and, as demonstrated, fierce warriors I don't particularly wish to confront.

I trail my hands along the cold stone wall interspersed with spongy lichen. "As I was escaping through the catacombs of Shadowvale, one of their ancient queens, Queen Rosalind, spoke to me. She told me to seek Harpalyke. To seek my training."

Thalia stops ahead of us and turns to face me. "Queen Rosalindspoke to you?"

"Well, her spirit did. Did you know her?" I try to meet her steady gaze, but she turns and continues down the path.

"I often traveled between Kallistar, Shadowvalle, and Harpalyke two centuries ago when I first joined as a scholar seeking knowledge. We had bonded over the years. I was sorry to hear of her passing." Her voice, although distant, has a clear touch of sadness that reminds me so much of Aramis when he too talks about his mother.

We continue along in silence as we descend further, the ground sloping. My legs begin to burn, my throat parched. But when my knees start buckling from exhaustion, the tunnel suddenly opens up.

"Welcome, Sybil, to Harpalyke."