Page 31 of Of Withering Dreams
I sighed. It was time for a late-night stroll to calm—and hopefully tire—my mind.
I meandered the halls aimlessly, running my fingers over the moonstone walls, studying the artwork, sculptures, and potted plants lining them.
My legs carried me to the library. I’d never seen it so empty and quiet, as if it had been holding its breath. The stillness blanketed the book stacks in reverence.
I went to Mr. Burlam’s desk to borrow the lantern orb he kept on it. As I reached for the hovering glass sphere, its enchanted flames swept over it from the bottom, ready to be of service.
I stuck a finger out, hesitant to touch the embered flames as I’d seen the grumpy librarian do. Sucking in a breath, I grimaced and pushed my finger into the blaze. Relieved, I gasped as a pleasant, liquid warmth licked at my skin. Its energy briefly zipped over the back of my hand before returning to the lantern with a fizzle. I stretched my fingers wide, admiring the tiny, shimmering mark left in the shape of a flame. As I stepped away from the desk, the orb floated above me, lighting my way.
I moved through the library, going up the curling staircase to the third-floor balcony. I gathered books hinting at information about Surrelia and the Nether Void. About its creatures and history. The landscapes and regions.
I read for what seemed like hours, and it very well might have been for all I knew. I was tucked into a corner of the second-story balcony beside the staircase, cocooned in flickering radiance, immersed in my studies. The night sky still painted the crystal ceiling in twinkling blackness, the harvest moon’s glow spraying sparkles of soft amber throughout the space.
Seryn.
I jerked forward, startled by the raspy whisper slinking through the air. My heart galloped as I set aside the book in my lap.Was I still sleeping?
Find me, the voice demanded.
Not a dream. I sprang up on shaky limbs, the lantern orb bobbing excitedly with my quick movements. I rushed to the banister, my eyes adjusting to the dimness and scanning the room for intruders. My heart jumped into my throat as a loud thud directly below me reverberated through the room. Stumbling back, I pressed into the shelves as if the books would protect me. I covered my mouth, holding in the sob that yearned to flee from me.
The flicker from the lantern’s stamp caught my eye, and I clamped my lips together, holding my marked hand in front of me. I brushed at the twinkling spot with my other thumb frantically, and the mark crumbled into ash, fluttering away from my skin. Immediately extinguishing, the orb gently descended. I caught the glass and hugged it to my chest, using one hand to guide me to the shadowed stairs.
Another thump. Clammy sweat broke out across my forehead and neck. Sucking my trembling lips inward, I crept down the stairs as fast as possible, my knees locking when my slippers settled on the ground floor.
Seryn.
A smallish novel from a lower shelf dropped at my feet. My ember tingled along my nape in response. Looking ahead, I noticed two large volumes resting on the ground.
Below.
The disembodied voice sounded more insistent but not threatening. Another book tumbled to the floor as if the fallen chronicles were creating a path to follow. Waiting for any sign of movement, I scrutinized the surrounding space. I breathed in, calming my senses and also keeping my gift engaged, just in case.
I pushed my shoulders back, dipping my chin and squinting toward the book-lined trail. My palms stroked over the smooth sphere cradled between them, activating it and its stamp once more. It levitated above me; a witness to the decision I was about to make.
With tentative steps, I followed the grounded volumes. Every so often, another book would drop ahead of me, guiding the way. I paused as a final novel landed in front of a small, arched alcove.
These nooks were carved sporadically within the library’s perimeter, each boasting an intricate engraving. I ran my fingertips over the elaborate depiction of Morpheus’ palace etched into the obsidian.
My ember tingled from my nape to my tailbone, and I shifted so one knee rested on the tufted bench as I traced the smooth lines and valleys of the image. My aura sparked and rippled over my body. It glided through my arm and fingertips, flowing over the etching. As it began to melt into it, the engraving faded away, revealing a tunnel cut into the glossy stone.
My mouth dropped open, and my eyes widened. I swallowed, looking behind me into the library and then back to the exposed passageway. A sense of foreboding prickled me, the hairs on my arm standing on end.
I shrugged, my curiosity holding greater weight than my apprehension. I stepped over the bench and into the passage, the glowing orb trailing behind me. My aura faded as I righted myself, thanking the Ancients that the ceiling was a bit taller than me so I didn’t have to crouch.
The air inside the passageway was cool and stagnant. A warm breeze from the library hissed by me as the dark stone knit itself back together, trapping me within the tunnel.
I gasped, panic clawing through me. My hand swiped along the wall. The stone pulsed and rippled in time with my energy, still prickling under my scar. The wall vanished, exposing the entryway again, and closed once more when I removed my palm. In relief, a whoosh of air left me as I realized I could open the hidden entrance.
Turning back to the tunnel, I pushed myself into the abyss. Every step brought me deeper into the stony islet, along a series of gradients and carved stairs. I pondered how far this system of corridors burrowed under the palace and where they led. The lantern illuminated around me, but the gleaming black rock gobbled it up a few feet ahead.
I came to a fork in the tunnel, one stairwell heading up and one moving deeper still. I paused for a moment, wrinkling my nose. A draft of crisp air brushed over my right side from the downward path. I recalled the ethereal plea that led me to my current position.Below,it had directed. I chose the corridor on my right, my ember tingling in agreement.
As I descended, the air grew dense, its chilled pressure pushing into my form, urging me to turn back. My steps slowed as if I moved through water.
It was eerie, the reality of being entirely alone. Thoughts of being buried alive prodded my concentration. My courage wavered, but I pressed forward, my power coursing through sinew, holding me together.
At last, the stairs ended, a sculpted arch marking the entrance to a cavernous clearing. As I tentatively stepped onto the narrow landing, my breath hitched and a numbing sensation ran through my legs. A bottomless well burrowed down the center of the cave. I braced my hands against the walls of the archway to avoid plunging into the gaping pit.
