Page 86 of Bound By Darkness

My hands gripped the ladder, my legs shaking as I pounded against the door. It did not budge.

Panic filled my blood with sparks, my ears ringing as I clung to rusted metal.

Trapped.

Trapped beneath the surface again.

My lungs tightened.

There was no faelight. No grass. No trees. No one. It smelled of musk and ash. ??Only the ringing remained, deafening my senses as I clung paralyzed.

Breathe.

I had no breath.

I needed to breathe?—

Breathe, a voice whispered.

My lungs inflated in a sputtering, coughing mess as if oncommand. ??I savored the feel of my lungs filling with the ashen air as it grounded me against the ladder.

I could do this.

Ihadto do this. I had to lower myself once again into the ground where faelight refrained from touching. How ironic for me to be gifted with shadows when I desperately avoided the dark—wanted no part of the places light curled away from.

Steadying my sweaty palms against the rungs, my foot descended until it found its next resting spot. Again and again, I climbed further into night, unaware of how deep it would lead me. My only hope was another exit at the bottom.

The click of my boots echoed against the rungs as I kept a steady pace. Further and further I went, a few beads of sweat dripping from my brow. There was no light—nothing.

My foot hit solid ground.

Stumbling off the ladder, my hands reached in front as I began to look for anything that might provide a spark of light. My fingers flitted over cold stone, the smooth edges much different from the ones I’d grown accustomed to in my cell.

My fingers as guides, I walked in the dismal corridor as I counted each step. Grounded myself to the feel of stone, my hands running over each crevice.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d walked until a sparkle of light illuminated the path. I headed toward it as light, dim and fluttering shone in front of me along the wall.

I pried the oil lamp off the rusted metal hook as I held it a few stones from my face. It illuminated rock and more oil lamps, but their flames had gone out leaving the one in my hand the last remaining light.

Turning to the right, my mouth dropped.

From top to bottom, the walls were covered in books andscrolls. My hands floated over the spines, the feeling tickling my fingertips as I glanced around the room. Every wall was filled with books, a few housing ornate globes and trinkets I did not recognize.

Peering onto the shelves, a few were made of silver, their work detailed and impressive. My father would have loved to see these relics of Cethales. He would have known the name of them too, his love of learning a passion no one would ever quell.

Walking to the far back corner, wind tickled my face slightly. I nearly cried at the occurrence. If there was wind, there had to be another exit at the end?—

A tunnel, narrow and long illuminated from the oil lamp. Peering inside its expanse of space, I blew out a breath. Again, I’d have to venture into the dark. At least it wouldn’t happen for a while.

Leaving the tunnel behind, I dropped the oil lamp onto a nearby table. My hands grazed the spines again as a bit of dust floated to the floor.

I removed book after book from the shelves, stacking them onto the table where the lamp rested. It only had a few hours of light remaining, so I needed to work quickly.

If any book sounded remotely promising, I placed it upon the stack as I listened to the echoes of my work against stone. It was frightening to hear that sound once more—the sound so much like my cell, but I kept my fingers busy and my head attuned to the task at hand.

After piling a courteous stack of fifteen books, I settled into a wobbly chair as I took the first one from the top. It was coated in a layer of dust as I ran my fingers over the cover. Flipping through the pages, name after name was scribbled onto yellowed-parchment. It was nothing more than a boring accounting book, and a chuckle left my lips. Indeed, a Fae prick had mostly likely written this.

I shoved it to the side as I grabbed another, wishing Ivan was here to keep me company. He’d be the only person to make this fun—his humor something I’d welcome as I grabbed another.

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