Page 41 of Crown of Envy

My hand trembled as I drew my dagger, the familiar presence of the weapon providing little comfort in the oppressive darkness. Every movement sent waves of pain through my still-aching body, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to show weakness. “I’m fine,” I muttered, more to convince myself than the others.

We inched forward, our footsteps echoing ominously off the damp stone walls. Each step was a battle against my protesting muscles, but I pushed through, driven by sheer determination. The air grew thicker, more suffocating with each step as if the dungeon was trying to repel us.

Finally, we reached the end of the corridor and came to the last cell. Unlike the others, this one was eerily empty. Not even a chair marred its bare floor. The emptiness felt wrong, unnatural. I swallowed hard, trying to moisten my dry throat.

With shaking hands, I raised the compass, ignoring the twinge of pain in my arm. Its needle swung decisively toward a nondescript stone in the wall. My voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “This is it. I believe the dagger we seek is behind this rock.”

The words had barely left my lips when a familiar, chilling sound echoed through the corridor. Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat. My muscles tensed instinctively, adrenaline surging through my veins, momentarily dulling the persistent ache in my body.

More footsteps approached from behind, the sound growing louder and more menacing with each passing second. I whirled, my dagger at the ready. Every nerve in my body screamed danger as I fought the overwhelming exhaustion.

Brody stepped from the cell, his sword gleaming dully in the torchlight. He scanned the seemingly empty corridor. “I don’t see anyone, but I know they’re here. I can hear them breathing.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I strained my ears. Beneath the sound of our own ragged breathing, I could hear it. Soft, almost imperceptible inhales and exhales coming from all around us. My grip on my dagger tightened, knuckles turning white with effort, sending spikes of pain up my arm that I stubbornly ignored.

We were surrounded by unseen presences, trapped in this underground tomb with enemies we couldn’t fight. Fear clawed at my insides. The dagger we sought was tantalizingly close, yet it felt like bait in an elaborate trap.

As we stood frozen, I wondered if we’d just walked willingly into our own demise. Despite my exhaustion and pain, I steeled myself for whatever was coming.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The torchlights cast eerie shadows that danced across the ancient stone walls. A chill ran down my spine, and I broke out in goosebumps, my skin prickling with anticipation and dread.

I reached out, hovering before making contact with the cold stone the compass had pointed out. The instant my fingers touched the rough surface, strange sensations surged up my arm. It wasn’t the pain and weariness I’d grown accustomed to. Instead, a wave of strength washed over me, revitalizing my tired body.

I shivered, but this time, it wasn’t from exhaustion. Was it the dagger? The amulet had helped strengthen Justice. Maybe the dagger was doing the same for me.

Damon’s eyes narrowed as he watched me, his posture tense. “Okay, Spidey, what’s with the magic touch moment? Did you feel something, or are you really into old, moldy rocks?” His tone was light, but I heard the underlying concern.

I hesitated, not wanting to voice my suspicions in case I was wrong. “It’s in there,” I finally murmured. “I can feel it, but…” I trailed off, remembering what the mirror said. “The only way to dislodge the stone is blood. Our blood.”

Damon’s posture stiffened, his hand instinctively moving to the weapon at his side. “You know, when I signed up for this gig, I was thinking more Indiana Jones, less ‘The Shining’ meets ‘Dungeons and Dragons.’ So, what’s the plan, sis? We all gonna play ‘pin the blood on the creepy rock’ and hope for the best? Or is this more of a chosen-one situation where you get all the fun?”

The strength flowing through me seemed to pulse in time with my heartbeat, urging me forward. Whatever came next, I knew we were standing on the precipice of something big, something that would change everything.

I drew my blade, its cold metal glinting in the dim light. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the edge against my palm. A sharp sting, then warmth as blood welled up. I bit back a hiss of pain and smeared my blood across the stone. The surface dimmed as if absorbing the offering.

Justice’s eyes met mine. Without hesitation, he raised his wrist to his mouth. His fangs punctured the skin with a sickening pop. Dark, rich blood dripped onto the floor, the metallic scent filling the air. He pressed his bleeding wrist to the stone.

Damon stepped forward, his face a mask of grim resolve. “Do it,” he insisted, holding out his palm. I swallowed hard, then quickly sliced across his skin. He didn’t flinch, only wiped his blood on the stone with a determined set to his shoulders.

Lisa and Zara followed, their faces pale but resolute. Each smeared their blood on the stone, leaving crimson streaks that seemed to shimmer in the low light. The stone rippled, its solid surface moving like water.

“Brody.” Damon moved to stand beside him. He tilted his head, a silent challenge in his eyes. “Your turn.”

Brody’s gaze hardened, scanning the room warily. “They’ll attack,” he warned.

“I know,” Damon replied. “But we need you.”

With a curt nod, Brody backed into the cell. “Spread out,” he ordered, his voice tight. “They’re coming.” In one fluid motion, he drew his sword and sliced his palm. Blood welled as he pressed it against the stone.

A blinding light erupted, forcing us to shield our eyes. When it faded, the stone had dissolved, revealing a jeweled blade. My heart raced as I reached for it and wrapped my fingers around the hilt. Power surged through me, electric and intoxicating, making my hair stand on end.

The air shimmered like heat waves on a scorching summer day, and Maci materialized in the doorway. Her presence hit us like a physical force, an oppressive aura that seemed to suck the oxygen from the room. My chest tightened, each breath becoming a struggle. Her cold, calculating eyes locked onto the dagger, and I could almost feel the heat of her gaze.

“Give the blade to me,” she demanded, each word sharp enough to cut. “Or you’ll all die.”

As if summoned by her threat, a horde of demons appeared behind her. My stomach churned at the sight. Unlike the demons we’d encountered before, these were grotesquely disfigured. Empty eye sockets gaped at us, black voids that somehow still managed to convey a terrible hunger. Their mouths, filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth, gnashed and slavered. Their bodies, red and bumpy like hardened lava, seemed to pulse with an unholy energy.

---