Page 87 of Darkness and Deceit
“We shouldn’t linger,” he says.
He doesn’t have to say it twice.
We press forward, side by side. Until the path narrows again, and Augustus steps in front of me, lighting the way with his glow.
Twenty-Eight
AUGUSTUS
The cave feels alive.
The damp air presses in from all sides, heavy with the weight of what lies buried. My glow flickers, barely piercing the darkness ahead, while each step I take feels like an intrusion.
Lilith trails closely behind me, her presence steadying in a way that is difficult to describe. I can still feel the warmth of her skin against mine, the soft tickle of her breath against my collarbone, and the lingering sensation of her lips on mine.
And the Balance—it’s been unsteady ever since.
But it’s not just because of the kiss. Not entirely. It’s this place.
There’s something here that dulls my connection, gnawing at the edges of my magic until all that remains is buzzing static. The deeper we venture, the more intense the feeling becomes.
I slow, hand on the cave wall. The stone is slick, oddly warm beneath my fingers like skin stretched over bone, the pulse of something immense throbbing beneath the surface. Lilith stops too, her pupils wide, illuminated by my light.
“Do you feel that?” I whisper.
She nods, swallowing hard. Her jaw is set, but I see the shiver of unease she tries to hide as she glances behind her. Like the dark is waiting for her to turn her back just long enough to catch her off guard and drag her away.
The corridor opens wider and I raise my hand, casting pale light over the surface of the chamber ahead. Stone arches rise into the darkness and the walls are inlaid with lines of obsidian, smooth and cool to the touch. The air around us feels electrified, charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm unleashes its fury.
Lilith halts beside me, her hand over her chest as if trying to soothe an invisible ache. Her brow furrows with concern. “They’re getting louder,” she whispers.
At first, I am confused. But then the voices reach me, a haunting chorus that threads its way into my consciousness.
Not full words, but pieces of them. Gasping sobs that falter, fragmented pleas, and the murmur of mourning. I cannot discern where it begins or ends. It envelops us completely.
Lilith presses her hands to her ears, trying to block out the relentless tide of sound. “I think I’ve heard them before,” she says, her voice strained. “When I saw him in the vision. This sound was there too.”
The voices continue to rise in intensity. Anguished wails and pleas that have never known mercy weave together, fused into one relentless, unending cry.
There must be thousands of them.
I glance at Lilith, and her face is ashen, her eyes wide with a stricken look that mirrors the turmoil in the air around us. Tears pool in her eyes as she takes in everything.
I do not know why I do it, it is not a normal reaction for me, but something about seeing Lilith this way compels me to comfort her. I reach for her hand and her grip is fierce, anchoring me. I squeeze back, trying to return the favor.
“Augustus, what is this place?” she asks, loud enough for me to hear.
“I-I… I think this is a burial ground,” I say quietly. “They were sacrificed,” I continue. “To bind him.”
I don’t say his name. I don’t have to.
“I can feel them.” Her eyelids flutter, and it looks as if she’s about to faint. But instead, she buries her face in my shoulder, breathing hard. I freeze for a half second, so unused to the sensation of a hug, before wrapping my arms around her.
“Augustus, there are so many. I can’t—” She breaks off on sob, “—I can’t hold them all in my head. It’s too much.”
I pull back, putting her face between both of my palms. “Focus on me, not them. There is nothing we can do for them right now.”
“I–I can’t. I?—”
