Page 60 of Bound By Wishes

Malik stood, pulling me up with him. “We’ve got to work on your jumping skills,” he said playfully.

I glanced back at the beetles, watching as they continued their relentless charge, oblivious to the danger ahead. One by one, they tumbled in waves off the cliff and into the void below. My breath hitched at the sight, thankful that these Khepri scarabs couldn’t fly.

“Are you all right?” Ranen asked, his voice low and unfamiliar, laced with an intensity I hadn’t heard before.

“Nothing a good bath and a few bandages won’t fix,” I replied, attempting to inject some lightness into my trembling voice. “Were you trying to bring down the mountain?” I asked, half joking, but still feeling the lingering aftershocks from his outburst.

Ranen’s voice softened in my mind. “I’d bring down the whole world if it meant keeping you safe, sayyida.” His words were tender, laced with a protectiveness that made my heart flutter.

Malik watched me closely, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of our one-sided conversation. My skin prickled at Ranen’s words, warmth spreading through my cold limbs.

I pushed away from Malik’s arms. “Let’s keep moving.”

Gathering my frazzled nerves, we continued deeper into the mines. Malik and I dropped our torches during the leap over the ravine, but a faint iridescent glow pulsed through the cave. It was too dim to reveal whatever booby trapsmight still lie hidden in the shadows, but at least we weren't in total darkness.

As we walked, I wondered if we were heading in the right direction. The tunnels seemed to twist and turn endlessly, and I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that we might be lost in this never-ending maze.

A piercing light finally cut through the gloom, and we veered toward the entrance of a chamber. A faint clicking sound echoed through the tunnel, making my heart stall in my chest. I gasped as a section of the stone floor shifted beneath our feet. The dim light in the tunnel and centuries of dust and debris had made it impossible to see the hidden pressure plates.

Arrows shot out from slits in the walls on either side of the entrance, their deadly tips gleaming as they swooshed toward us. The arrows whistled through the air, crossing the narrow passage in a deadly crisscross pattern meant to skewer anyone attempting to enter.

I shoved Malik, sending his body flying backward just in time to avoid an arrow that was whizzing straight for his skull. The arrow's tip brushed against my arm as it passed, slicing through the exposed skin. I hissed in pain, clutching the wound as blood oozed from the gash.

The arrow attack ended as quickly as it began, their deadly points now embedded in the walls. Malik scrambled to his feet, tearing the hem of his shirt and tying it around my arm to staunch the bleeding. The makeshift bandage slowed the flow of blood, and I gave him a grateful nod, though the sting still pulsed through my arm.

“We’re losing our touch,” Malik fussed. “We were almost shish-kebabbed.” He glanced at the arrows nowharmlessly jutting from the walls, then back at me, and shook his head.

We moved forward slowly, our steps cautious and perfectly in sync. The light pouring in from the opening above provided just enough illumination to see more clearly. My eyes combed every inch of the tunnel, scanning the ceiling, walls, and floor for any other signs of hidden traps. Every shadow and crack made me pause.

Once we reached the opening, we stopped at the grand archway that loomed before us. The air grew cooler as we stepped inside, and the bright light from above revealed the wonders of what was inside.

The massive chamber walls were lined with ancient petroglyphs and symbols that were embedded deep in the stone. But it was the treasure that truly took our breath away—piles of gold, jewels, and artifacts stacked high, reaching all the way to the ceiling. Golden statues of mythical creatures stood guard over mountains of coins, their jeweled eyes glinting like they were winking at us. Wooden chests overflowed with pearls and emeralds while ancient weapons, encrusted with precious stones, lay scattered across the floor. The hoard of wealth and power within these walls that had been hidden for centuries was overwhelming.

Coins crunched under our boots as we stepped forward. It was as if the precious metal was so abundant, so unimportant in this place, that it could be used as mere floor coverings. Each step we took sent a cascade of golden coins tumbling to the ground.

“Pinch me,” Malik mouthed beside me. I reached over and playfully squeezed the skin of his arm between myfingers. He winced, then nodded. “Yep, I’m definitely not dead,” he confirmed, his eyes wide with disbelief as he took another step forward.

Malik bent down, his hand slowly venturing toward a chest overflowing with perfect pearls. The luminous orbs spilled over the edge, their creamy surfaces glowing softly. The pearls, each one flawless and perfectly round, seemed to beckon him. But something about the room felt off to me. It was too spectacular, too unbelievable. Ranen’s words buzzed like a warning in my mind.

“Nothing is as it seems,” I repeated his words slowly, the caution in my voice making Malik’s hand pause midair. Ranen’s words reminded me that all that glitters isn’t gold.

The thunderous roar of a massive waterfall pulled my attention from the treasure. Its tumbling flow plunged into a deep chasm that sliced through the room in a glistening river. A bridge, forged entirely of gold, spanned the width of the divide, leading to an imposing throne that commanded the far side of the chamber.

The throne was breathtaking. It was carved from a single massive block of obsidian, its dark surface inlaid with veins of gold. At the base of the throne, golden lions reared up, their eyes set with glowing gemstones that seemed to watch over the seat of power. Cushions of crimson velvet, trimmed with gold thread, lined the throne. It was a seat truly worthy of King Thalorian himself.

I pulled Malik along behind me, afraid that he would try to touch the hypnotic treasure again. I observed the bridge closely before attempting to cross it, carefully combing every inch for possible traps before we rushed across it and slowly approached the throne. I didn’t dare touch it, eventhough every fiber of my being urged me to. The throne beckoned, as if it held the answers to all my questions. But I resisted, knowing that nothing in this place could be trusted.

“There’s the scepter,” Malik said, drawing my focus away from the throne.

The scepter gleamed brighter than any other treasure in the room. Its golden surface was etched with intricate patterns that seemed to tell a tale as old as time. The head of the wand held a large emerald, surrounded by a halo of latticework that reminded me of swirling winds, their curves and lines so fine that they appeared to dance in the dim light.

Malik moved cautiously, his eyes darting from the ground to the podium where the scepter rested. He examined every inch, looking for any sign of hidden traps.

"Something bad is going to happen when I pull this scepter from the stone," he muttered, sickening dread in his voice. "I just know it." His fingers hesitated just inches from the scepter, as if the air around it hummed with warning.

The scepter looked exactly like it did on the rug that we had ridden here on. But where was the coiled serpent? It had to be important for it to be in the ancient scrolls that Ranen had read. The absence of the snake gnawed at me, a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit.

“Should I touch it?” Malik turned to me, his question settling heavily between us. “I don’t see any signs of a counterweight.”

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