Page 33 of Bright Blinding Ruin

My eyes close, and I stand there for a few seconds, soaking it all in. I can’t imagine what this place looked like when it was actually taken care of. If I wasn’t on a mission, I’d find myself a nice spot somewhere and take a nap while soaking up all the different scents in the air.

I hum to myself as I open my eyes, and before I straighten, I spot something I didn’t see before—something I wouldn’t have seen if I didn’t stop and turn to smell the big pink flower.

A stone door that looks remarkably like the one in the library at Pylos. It sits beneath the thick branches of an overgrown, flowering tree; the reason I didn’t see it before. Completely shaded from the sun, built into stone that, realistically, has no natural place in this garden, and yet it fits.

This is Acadia, so why wouldn’t the undercroft be in a garden?

I abandon the flowering bush and push through the overgrown rows until I get to the door, ignoring the thorns that try to snag my clothes on the way. Stepping beneath the shade of the flowering tree, I stand before the door to the undercroft.

It’s literally built out of nothing. It can’t be more than two feet thick. Just another thing that proves how magical it is.

“Okay,” I say as I study the door, “where are you, guardian?” The last one was a magical cat, so I can’t imagine this guardian will be much different. My eyes see nothing, and I try to call for the beast even though I don’t know its name: “Here, kitty, kitty.”I make a pst-pst sound with my tongue, what I’d always do to get the attention of the alley cat that liked to hang around Frank’s place.

A cat’s meow is my answer, only it comes from above me.

I take a step back and look up, and I instantly spot the guardian of Acadia’s undercroft: lounging on one of the lower branches of the flowering tree, stretched out like that spot is the cat’s favorite place to snooze, is a spotted cat.

Apinkspotted cat.

Its body is a light, bubblegum pink, and its spots are a darker magenta. Its entire coat is unnatural, and yet when it turns its furry face downward toward me and yawns, it looks just like any other cat. Just, you know, pink.

The cat’s blue eyes blink down at me, and it yawns again, making no moves to get up and come down. I set my hands on my hips and say, “Hey there, kitty. You going to come down for me or are you going to stay up there?”

The cat gives a quick sneeze and then starts to lick its right paw, its tail lazily flicking back and forth. So, as unnaturally colored as the cat is, it’s still a cat, which means it doesn’t give a shit about what I need.

Right. That’s just a cat.

As I gaze up at the small creature, I know I have to think of its name. The other cat’s name came to me out of nowhere, so I’m hoping this cat’s name comes to me in the same way. I bite the inside of my cheek as I stare at the adorably fluffy pink face, waiting for a name to hit me.

“What’s your name, cat?” I ask. “You’re going to keep ignoring me until I figure it out, aren’t you?” I swear, the cat gives me a knowing look after that, like it’s telling me I’m correct in my assumption. “Okay, what could your name be?”

The lazy feline is totally unbothered by my presence, like I could cease to exist and it wouldn’t give a shit. Yeah, just likeany other cat. Some cats really don’t give a fuck, and this pink asshole is one of them.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s still so freaking cute I can’t even contain myself—it’s a pink cat. Of course I want to hold it and rub my face in its fur and tell it how cute it is and how I want to take it home, but I have a job to do. I need in that undercroft.

I stare hard at the lounging cat. Seconds pass, maybe even a minute. A strange name comes to me out of nowhere, and I hesitantly say, “Miram?”

That gets the cat’s attention, and the cat stands. After an adorable stretch and a bit of scratching on the branch, it disappears in a magical pink poof. Seconds later it appears by my feet, and it meows the loudest meow I’ve ever heard as it rubs its body against my ankles and curls its fluffy tail around my lower legs.

“Awe, aren’t you the cutest thing?” I say as I bend down and give it some good pets. I scratch around its face. This one seems to really like being pet under the chin, so that’s where I focus my efforts. “Miram. You’ve got the prettiest coat I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen a pink cat before.”

Miram brings her bright blue eyes to me, like she’s commiserating on how sad that statement truly is.

“If I could take you with me, I would,” I tell her. “I would in a freaking heartbeat. It has to be lonely here, all by yourself.” She meows at me, agreeing, and I pet her some more. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m kind of in a rush. I need inside the undercroft. Think you can open it for me?”

Miram chirps at me before she pulls away and saunters to the door. As she rubs against it, the door comes to life, much as the one inside Pylos’s library did. The stone door becomes a true door, and it opens into Acadia’s undercroft, though I see nothing but blackness inside.

“Thanks, girl,” I say, slow in standing. The cat sits and watches me as I walk toward the opening in the magical door

I’m more confident this time than I was in Pylos. I step inside with no hesitation, right onto a stone platform. Pushing into the darkness, it’s much the same as it was the last time. A straight path made of stone, surrounded by nothing but blackness until I get about ten feet inside, where a pair of magical fires erupt, glowing and guiding my path.

The only difference? These fires are a bluish green, and they illuminate the aether around the platform with the same mixed hue.

I don’t turn around. I know the undercroft has sealed me in here until I see what I need to see. But first thing’s first: before I reach the area where the path widens into a circular platform, I reach for my necklace and kneel on the edge.

The small, empty vial unscrews from its lid easily, and I lean over the edge of the stone and dip it into the thick, viscous aether below. After all the air bubbles have escaped, the vial is full with Acadia’s aether, and I lift it up and study it for just a moment before returning it to where it belongs.

The only reason I don’t jump out of my skin when I stand and turn toward the circular platform is because I’ve done this once before, so when I spot Empress Morimento standing there, waiting, I know she’s waiting for me.

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