Page 82 of Of Withering Dreams
I leaned forward. “What?”
“I didn’t say anything,” Gavrel whispered, peering over the edge of the narrow slope.
Was I going insane? Why did this place seem familiar?
Below.
“Obviously,” I countered.
Gavrel paused, looking at me with pursed lips, his eyebrows squashing together. “Obviously?”
“You said ‘below’ like it wasn’t obvious that it’s where we’re heading,” I scoffed.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Well, then I’m going insane.” My whisper went up an octave. “It was nice knowing you before I lost my marbles.”
“You heard someone?”
“Yeah, he … he said my name and ‘below.’ Why does it feel like I’ve been here before?” My power was thrumming, tossing within me, wrestling my pulse. Trepidation slinked over my skin in itchy swells.
He cupped his palm on my cheek. “Take a deep breath, Little Star. You aren’t insane. Let’s keep going and—” He stopped abruptly, grabbing me around the waist and tucking our bodies against the cold, black wall.
“Open ….” The Elders’ muffled voices wafted up the pit.
We crept ahead, keeping to the shadowed curves along the path. Once we came to a tunnel perpendicular to the Elders several feet below, we nestled within the safety of its darkened arc as we watched them.
“After all this time, this is quite tedious,” Ryboas grumbled, the key scraping as he unlocked the barred door in front of him. The gate groaned as it rolled away—its edges concealed within deep grooves carved into the stone.
Lucan snorted. “It’s a small price to pay.” His lips puckered as a woman in soiled blue robes stumbled from the cell, collapsing to the ground. Her eyes were unfocused, pained confusion sweeping over her features.
A gasp crept up my throat, my hand covering my lips to keep it in. It was Haadra’s Elder, Marah Strom.
My eyes snapped to Gavrel, and he shook his head, his mouth a steely slash across his face.
As I returned my attention below, Ryboas opened a second cell, and Endurst Guust, the Pneumalian Elder, staggered out. Bracing his hand against the cavern wall, he brushed his disheveled robes the color of rotten lemons.
“Get up!” Melina snapped.
Marah glared at her, her eyes clearing in lucidity, her chin jutting forward as she pulled herself up on unsteady legs. “The Ancients will cast you all to the Nether Void.” Her voice, although feeble, was laced with animosity. “And I look forward to that day, knowing you’ll writhe in nightmarish pain for all eternity.”
Melina tittered, clapping her palms on her upper thighs, and bent forward. “Ah, I see you are well-rested. It’s a shame our divine ember and blood oaths somewhat mend your memories—but after all these turns, your minds are scarred. It’d be much simpler if my shadows stuck like they do with everyone else. At this point, your minds are just piles of scabs I need to keep picking, aren’t they?” Her lips curled as she wiggled her eyebrows at Marah and Endurst.
“Always such a ch-child, Melina. Hasn’t this gone on long … long enough?” Endurst stuttered, his deep voice imploring.
“If you mean your sentences, then yes.”
His jaw stiffened as he focused on the male Elders, his body twitching. “You know very … well … we-we … We were never m-meant to continue this long. What about Midst Fall? Have you no … no pity left in you?”
Lucan’s upper lip curled as he looked away, sniffing. Ryboas tucked the iron keys into his pocket, the metal clanging as his feet shifted restlessly.
“Enough. I tire of you both. Youforget”—she snickered—“that you did this to yourselves. If you had played nice, you’d be free. Free from these cells. Free to keep your memories. But alas, I can’t trust you to roam without spurring bothersome rumors and unrest among the mortals.” The last word fell from her lips as if it tasted of refuse. “Selfish of you both, considering we took a vow that impacts us all—decides if we lose our gifts.” She snapped her fingers in front of Endurst. He blinked slowly, unamused.
Marah wailed, “We aren’t meant to rule or live forev?—”
My shoulders flinched as Melina’s aura flashed over her in a billowing haze, shadowed tendrils curling around the unwilling Elders’ necks and heads, their eyes clouding over, mouths snapping shut.
“That’s better. Let’s get on with it.” Her captives looked around in confusion.
