Page 53 of Wilds of Wonder
I tugged at the scarf around my neck, not wanting to think about being stuck here without my magic. I raised my chin, refusing to give in to these negative thoughts. “We don’t know anything for sure, and without evidence to corroborate that glum theory, we will just have to wait and see.”
Maverick's head thumped against the wall, but for once, he didn’t argue.
“What do you guys think happened here?” Driscoll gestured to the world above us. “I mean, we were never taught about this in school.”
I snorted, thinking about my self-made education. “We weren’t taught a lot of things in school.”
“That’s because the early schooling for the masses isn’t intended to be specific,” Maverick said, an edge to his voice. “You learn basic history, how to use your magic, and then you go your specialized route when you’re done.”
“I know how it works,” I snapped, a bitterness coating my words.
I remembered all too well when I’d finished my basic schooling after ten years. Everyone started school at eight years old and finished when they turned eighteen. In that time, you lived with your parents, went to the local school that was free for all to attend. After that, it was off to either apprenticeships or an academy.
There were many scattered throughout Arathia: Academy of Healers, Academy of Scientists & Thinkers, Academy of Engineers & Architecture. Academies were expensive to attend, and most could only afford to go if they were part of the upperclass, children of royals, council members, ambassadors, advisors, high-ranking military officials. My father had been the general of the Fyriad Army and had enough saved to send me to an academy. He’d promised I could go to the Academy of Scholars & Historians. Then he’d died on assignment and my mother panicked.
I’d turned eighteen and hoped she would entertain the idea of me applying to the Academy of Scholars & Historians. All those hopes had been dashed when it became clear she intended no such thing. I was sent to an academy, just not the one I wanted. She forced me into the Academy of Ladies. Where I stayed for four soul-sucking years, learning how to sew, how to run a household, how to plan a dinner party, and my personal favorite, how to please your husband. The academy even made us matches. It was a guarantee that came with the schooling. They were the ones that had arranged the marriage between me and Gregory.
“I hated school,” Driscoll said, and I realized he and Maverick had been talking this entire time. “Failed out after a year at the Academy of Scientists & Thinkers, much to my parents’ dismay. Disappointed them. Disappointed myself. Disappointed everyone, really.” He shrugged a shoulder. “And now it’s all led to this. My death in some strange land.”
“We’re not going to die,” Maverick and I both said at the same time.
Our gazes met, and I quickly looked away. His white shirt had lost a few buttons, now opened farther, revealing more of his muscled chest, while his suspenders hung at his sides, gray pants tight and hugging his thighs.
I cleared my throat and caught Driscoll’s eye as he cocked an eyebrow and smirked. I returned that little smirk with a glare, but it didn’t seem to deter him from waggling his brows.
I glanced around the space, hoping he’d knock it off before Maverick noticed. I stood, wincing at the aches and pains shooting through my legs. I’d run more in the last day than I had in my entire life, and my body was paying for it.
The space was dark and dank, the smell of moss and death permeating the air. Dust covered the rough stone, and this place seemed to stretch on and on, darkness swelling over everything so I couldn’t see much beyond where we sat.
My instinct was to explore, but if this place was like the rest of the Deadlands, I wasn’t sure that would be smart. I had no idea what I’d encounter underground.
My gaze caught on a heavy circular stone that lay on the floor, fractured into pieces. It lay in front of an entrance to a circular nook. The stone had clearly been covering the nook, and I walked over to it, crouching down and realizing it was embedded with iron. The metal twisted through the rock like thick veins. Iron was typically used in prisons to dull elemental powers so prisoners couldn’t use their magic to escape. I squinted at the stone, running my hand over its ridges and bumps.
“This is likely a crypt,” Maverick said from behind me, and I turned, crossing my arms.
“Well, all the bones and skeletons did kind of give that away.” I pointed to one of the skeletal figures that Driscoll had rested his head on.
His eyes slowly traveled to the skeleton, and he jumped. “Oh, bloody earth. Why did no one tell me I was cuddling with actual bones?”
Maverick shrugged. “Some people are into that.”
“Well, not me. I haven’t gotten that desperate. Yet.” He looked overat the skeleton, its mouth gaping wide open. “Although I haven’t had much luck finding anyone else to love me. Maybe this is the best I can do.”
“At least the bones won’t talk back.” I shot a withering look Maverick’s way. “So other than the dead people everywhere, what tipped you off that this might be a crypt?”
He tsked, taking a step toward me. “There could be skeletons for any number of reasons.” He ticked off his fingers. “A cave-in, a plague, some kind of mass murder. You can’t just make assumptions.”
“Except my assumption is right,” I said, my annoyance turning sharp and spindly in my chest. “It is a crypt.”
Maverick gritted his teeth together. “Yes, but not for the reasons you assumed.”
“Then what are those reasons?” I gritted back. Spirits below. Had he always been so argumentative?
He pointed at the nooks dug into the walls, all of them closed, covered by big, thick stones. “Those of the Old World believed that it was important to be as close to Galaysia as possible after one died in order for the soul to travel there. So they buried their loved ones far under the earth. As far as they could go.” He spread out his arms. “They’d often make these crypts underneath important temples and religious monuments dedicated to the Seven Spirits.”
I hadn’t known that. Had never come across it anywhere in my readings. I hated the way it made me feel inferior to him, even though I’d come to the same conclusion about what this place must be. But he was right: I’d missed facts, the evidence. Jumped to a conclusion too quickly.
“So what do you make of this?” I gestured to the stone on the ground. “Why go to such elaborate measures to bury someone in here with iron?” I traced one of the iron veins.
