Page 111 of Cursed Dreams
“All clear, for now,” he whispered dramatically. “Our journey into forbidden knowledge begins…”
Thalia rolled her eyes. “It’s a archives room, not a dragon’s hoard.”
“Well, now it’s significantly less exciting,” he muttered, pouting.
Nyla pushed him through the doorway lightly as she and Marand followed him inside. Thalia stayed close behind looking around for any sign of shadows and a certain dragon lurking in them. The four of them had timed their approach perfectly: late afternoon, when most apprentices were either in lessons or on hospital rounds. It was still risky, especially since this section was overseen by one of the stricter priestesses, one Cellen had dubbed Mistress Killjoy.
“You remember the plan?” Marand asked, already scanning the layout of shelves and cabinets.
“I stand guard and distract if anyone comes,” Cellen said, straightening the collar of his robes with mock elegance, “you infiltrate.”
“Please be careful,” Thalia said, casting one last wary look down the corridor. “This section’s supposed to be off-limits to apprentices.”
Cellen placed a hand over his heart. “Thalia, you wound me. Has my subtlety ever failed you?”
Nyla let out a soft snort. “You think pretending to be a blind orphan in the potion stores was subtle?”
“I got us that extra bottle of fever tonic, didn’t I?”
“Let’s just get what we came for.”
The three girls slipped inside the rows of shelves while Cellen turned on his heel, squaring his shoulders and sauntering toward the end of the hall where the stern-faced Priestess Arissa usually kept watch.
He barely made it ten paces before her shadow loomed.
“Apprentice,” she said curtly, stepping forward. “You’re not assigned here.”
“Oh, Lady Arissa.” He gave an exaggerated bow. “What a vision you are. Were you sculpted by divine hands or just born beneath a particularly flirtatious constellation?”
Her brows lifted. “Excuse me?”
“Forgive me,” Cellen said, hand still clutching his heart. “I was struck blind by your beauty. Am I in the records wing? Or have I died and been led to paradise?”
Behind the shelves, Marand nearly choked on a laugh.
Thalia hissed under her breath. “Focus.”
Nyla and Marand began scanning the shelves, fingers flitting over old spines, while Thalia crouched between the scroll cabinets, heart hammering.
“Here,” Marand whispered, unrolling a long scroll. “These are pre-realignment maps before the war and the borders shifted.”
Nyla held up a faded parchment. “This has the leyline tracks. And look, this area near the northern cliffs… it’s labelled as an ‘untouched zone.’ No settlements. No patrol routes. Just marked ‘disputed territory.’”
“Could be it,” Thalia said breathlessly. “It fits the rhyme—the place where moonlight weeps.”
Heavy footsteps echoed across the tiled floor. Thalia froze. Nyla’s eyes widened in panic
“Someone’s coming.”
Another set of footsteps followed, lighter this time.
“Miryanne,” Arissa greeted coolly. “What brings you here?”
Thalia’s stomach flipped. Miryanne. Of course.
They pressed into the shadows between the scroll cabinets, barely breathing.
Thalia could feel the wild beat of her heart in her ears.
