Page 40 of Crown of Envy

Justice pulled me close. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.” I refused to tell them my body still ached. It didn’t matter. There was no choice for me but to keep going.

“All right, team, listen up,” Brody announced. “We’re going to move in formation. Justice and Sawyer with the compass, you take point. Lisa and Zara, you’re in the middle. Damon and I will cover the rear.”

I moved slowly, each step careful and measured, my body continually protesting. The exhaustion from our earlier ordeal still clung to me, making each step a conscious effort. A dull ache pulsed through my muscles, reminding me how close I’d come to total collapse. Luckily, my team didn’t push me, their patience a silent acknowledgment of my struggle.

Our footfalls seemed unnaturally loud in the confined space, echoing off the damp stone walls. I held my breath, partly to strain my ears for any sign of danger lurking in the darkness ahead and partly to suppress the groans of discomfort that threatened to escape with each step.

Despite my weariness, I kept a firm grip on the compass. The needle remained steady, an unwavering guide pulling us deeper into the unknown. I focused on it, using its constancy to distract myself from the pain and fatigue.

Justice continued to walk close beside me, holding my hand, his presence a comforting anchor. I sensed his concern in the way he occasionally steadied me with a gentle touch, helping me navigate the uneven floor without drawing attention to my weakness.

As we ventured deeper, the sheer mass of the castle above us became a tangible presence. The darkness was almost a physical entity pushing against us, testing our resolve with each cautious step.

Suddenly, Justice’s hand tightened around mine. “Listen,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear and sending a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the cold.

I almost stumbled at the abrupt halt. Justice’s arm snaked around my waist, steadying me with supernatural quickness.

Then I heard it. Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.

The sound echoed in the darkness, a chilling, rhythmic tapping. My muscles coiled instinctively, ready to fight or flee. I strained my ears, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise in the oppressive blackness. The compass needle quivered as if responding to an unseen presence.

“I don’t see anyone,” Justice whispered. “It has to be Maci.” The name hung in the air like a curse.

My stomach lurched at the implication. As we stood frozen in the oppressive silence, I sensed we were being watched, evaluated. The darkness pulsed with malevolent energy, making my skin crawl. If Maci was here, invisible and silent in the darkness, what was she waiting for?

Then it hit me. She wasn’t alone. Her army of envy demons was here, too.

I shuddered violently. I could almost feel their presence now, countless unseen eyes boring into us from every direction. The compass needle spun erratically as if confused by the multiple presences.

Any minute now, they could ambush us. The narrow tunnel suddenly felt like a death trap with no room to maneuver, no way to escape. We were sitting ducks, blind in the darkness, while our enemies could see and surround us.

I gripped Justice’s hand tighter, my fingers trembling. My other hand clenched the compass, its soft glow our only beacon in this sea of darkness. Every muscle in my body coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.

We were trapped in a deadly game of cat and mouse, and we were the mice. The question wasn’t if the attack would come, but when—and whether we would be ready when it did.

As the tension mounted, I suddenly realized the attack wouldn’t come until we retrieved the dagger. That was when all hell would break loose. Maci and her demons were waiting, letting us do the hard work of finding the artifact before they pounced.

We didn’t have a choice. We had to press on despite the danger. I drew a deep breath to steady my nerves and decided to try something. I addressed the magical object in my hand.

“Compass, show us the way.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, as if responding to my command, the needle spun rapidly before locking firmly in the direction we’d been going. The certainty of its movement was both reassuring and terrifying. I knew where to go, but what awaited us at the end of this path?

“There’s a door up ahead,” Justice pointed out.

I held up the compass, its faint glow illuminating the ancient stonework around us. “The needle is pointing directly at it,” I whispered.

Justice found the heavy iron handle. With a grunt of effort, he pulled the door open, its hinges groaning in protest after years of disuse.

As it swung wide, the musty scent of centuries past washed over us. We stood at the entrance of a long, vaulted corridor lined with cells on either side. Shifting light flickered from guttering torches above each cell as if some force had lit them in anticipation of our arrival. The walls were rough-hewn stone, slick with moisture, and covered in patches of dark moss. Rusty iron bars separated the cells from the central passageway, their once-formidable strength now pitted and weakened by time.

The air was thick and heavy, filled with the echoes of long-forgotten prisoners and the soft drip of water from unseen sources. Some cells still contained remnants of their former occupants. Rotting wooden benches, rusted chains bolted to the walls, and in one, a skeleton huddled in the corner, a grim reminder of the dungeon’s dark history.

The compass pulled us forward as we ventured deeper into this underground labyrinth of suffering and forgotten souls.

“Stay alert,” Brody warned. He’d drawn his sword. “We don’t know what kind of traps or guardians might still be active down here.”

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