Page 33 of Rage of the Fallen

As if in response, a soft click echoed through the room. The back of the fireplace swung open like a door, revealing a hidden chamber beyond.

“Or we could push the right carving,” Brody stated with a small smile.

Heart pounding, I peered into the darkness beyond. “The harp must be in there. But after everything we’ve been through, I doubt it’ll be as simple as walking in and taking it.”

Brody pulled out a small flashlight and swept its beam into the chamber. The light caught something that made my breath catch. Hundreds of gossamer-thin strings stretched across the opening like a spider’s web, but these weren’t silk. They shimmered with a faint bluish glow.

“Wards.” Lisa reached out but stopped short of touching one. “Ancient ones. They’re still active.”

Damon squinted. “Can’t we cut through them?”

“Only if you want to find out what kind of magical security system they installed centuries ago. Queen Charlotte must have been a witch,” Lisa replied dryly. “These aren’t mere barriers. They’re alarms. Touch one, and who knows what we’ll trigger?”

I shifted my weight, acutely aware of how exposed we were. “Can you disable them?”

Lisa bit her lip, studying the pattern. “Maybe, but it’ll take time. And if I make one mistake, I think another barrier will slam down on us.”

I studied the faint bluish lines, noticing something in their pattern. The strings weren’t random. They formed a sort of musical staff, the gaps between them precise and deliberate. And suddenly, I understood.

“It’s not about disabling them.” Hope rose in my throat. “It’s about playing them.”

Lisa stood back, tension visible in her shoulders. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am.” The certainty in my voice surprised even me.

I lifted my trembling fingers toward the glowing strands, feeling the magic pulse beneath my skin. Music had always been my sanctuary, my strength. Now, facing these ancient wards, it felt like every song I’d ever played had led me to this moment. I hadn’t played for a long time, but I used to like to forget about the horrors of a hunt.

I felt compelled to play as if an invisible force was pushing me. I plucked at the strings, playing a soothing song.

The strands spread apart and allowed entrance.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all,” Damon muttered, though I heard the relief beneath his sarcasm. “Since when do magical death harps just let you in?”

“Maybe because I’m not trying to steal it,” I replied with a cautious step forward. “Queen Charlotte was a witch, but she used her magic to protect people.”

“Like our witches here.” He nodded toward Lisa and Zara. Despite his usual distrust of magic, years of hunting together had taught him not all witches were threats. “Still, this is some serious old-school power we’re messing with. Be careful, okay?”

I heard the worry in his voice, the same worry that had been there since we were kids when I’d first shown signs of being different. Yet beneath that worry was trust. After all, he trusted me with his life. He might be cautious about ancient magic, but he’d always believed in me.

I broke out in goosebumps as wave after wave of energy pulsed from the darkness beyond the doorway. Strange sensations crawled over me like ants on my skin, making me suppress a shudder. Every hair on my body stood up, electricity seeming to crackle through the air. An ancient power dwelled in the darkness, one that made my mouth go dry and my heart thunder. The magic felt impossibly old, like time itself had crystallized in that hidden space.

I glanced at my team, their faces pale in the dim light, and my chest tightened with fierce protectiveness. “I’ll go.” The words tasted like ash in my mouth. The last thing I wanted was to endanger my team. Justice’s face flashed through my mind, how he used to be before Rage took him from us. The memory burned like an open wound. I refused to lose anyone else to darkness.

Brody clasped my arm, his grip anchoring me to the present. “Sawyer, we’re a team. That’s not how we work. We face things together or not at all. You don’t know what’s inside that passage.”

“Like hell you’re going in there alone,” Damon cut in, his voice rough with barely contained emotion. “We’ve already lost enough people playing hero. I’m not watching my sister walk into some creepy magic death trap solo.”

“I know.” I covered Brody’s hand with mine, drawing strength from his steadiness, then met my twin’s worried glare.“But I need you to guard the others. If I fail, you’ll take over.” My voice caught, but I pushed through. “Can you do this for me?”

“No way.” Brody’s jaw set in a familiar stubborn line. “We don’t sacrifice our own. That’s not what heroes do, and that’s not what this team does.”

“Heroes?” Damon laughed harshly. “How about we stick with ‘alive’ instead? Last time I checked, going solo against ancient magic isn’t a winning strategy.” He moved closer, and I saw the fear behind his anger. “Remember Cincinnati? Or maybe that lovely weekend in Milwaukee? Solo missions get hunters killed, Sawyer.”

“This is different,” I met his gaze. “You know it is. Someone has to test whatever’s in there, and I’m the one with the connection to the harp.” I turned to Brody. “And you know why it has to be me. If something goes wrong, the team needs both of you.”

“What exactly am I supposed to tell Dad if something happens to you?” Damon’s voice cracked. “Sorry, let her walk into magical sudden death because she asked nicely?”

I didn’t know how to answer him since my memory had been stripped of Dad. I knew he had trained me and taken care of Damon and me after Mom died, but I only had glimpses of him. I’d forfeited those memories when I retrieved the Mirror of Aethereal.

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