Page 73 of Wicked Prince of Shadows
“Don’t know. Didn’t think it was possible, I guess,” Osric said.
That was troubling. But it was a clue too.
I braced myself as we raced toward the edge, my ruined hand throbbing with every heartbeat. The chasm yawned below us, that hungry darkness that had swallowed so much already. But the gap here—it was just narrow enough. Gritting my jaw, I leaped. Osric followed behind.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing but empty air beneath my feet and the wind screaming in my ears. Then my feet hit solid ground on the other side.
I stumbled forward, barely catching myself with my good hand as Osric landed beside me. Our feet skidded in the loose grey soil and gravel. The dust burned my eyes and made me cough.
"Come on!" I pushed myself up and ran toward the three tablets that stood like sentinels against the churning sky.
“Wait!” Osric slowed. He pointed back toward the edge of the chasm and toward the narrow bridge that led to the column where Vetle stood. “Aren’t we going to rescue Fahlda?”
“We are. But first we have to find out what’s happening so we can save himandsave everyone else.” I surged ahead, my broken hand cradled against my chest. Each jarring step sent fresh waves of agony through me, but I pushed it aside. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except reaching those tablets and finding the truth.
The tablets loomed above us, piles of scattered earth on either side. We rounded the largest pile on the right, and my gaze at once latched onto the lowest portions.
Maker, help us.
Was this what I thought?
CHAPTER TWENTY
The wind slowed, calming almost entirely as I drew closer. My hand pressed tight to my chest, and throat hoarse and raw, I stared down at the newly revealed components on the tablets, my gaze instantly drawn to the image at the bottom.
Yes.
A theory formed in my mind.
My pulse thundered as I stared at the tablet. Vetle had said it was a mirrored image of the top third. And that figure did look somewhat similar when accounting for erosion and exposure to the elements and the perpetual draining magic along with the fact that anyone carving would unintentionally create subtle differences. But was it actually the same person?
No, I didn’t think so. Both figures were bare and sparse, their forms etched with flowing simple lines that did not allow for much individuality. But they weren’t exactly the same.
The other difference was that in addition to more script, the central panel with the couple had more people standing at the bottom, making it a circle of people. All three central images depicted vines reaching up from the figure below, coiling up the column. But on the one that showed only one figure on thecolumn, the vines severed and bled with more ideograms for obliteration etched into the stone as if in warning. All the vines slanted toward the portal.
Osric stood beside me, fidgeting as he looked between me and Vetle. “Did you find it? Does it say what to do?”
I drew back, heart racing. “Osric, your art magic. Is it based in words or do you need ink? Can you touch something and speak an incantation to draw out its color?” He’d done it so effortlessly with fabric and paint. I'd seen him intensify the color in his friend's dress. Would stone be more difficult or less?
“Yeah.” He frowned, his brow pinching. “But…this isn’t the time?—”
“Please.” My mouth dried as I swallowed. “Touch the tablet. Intensify all the colors.”
He cut his eyes at me as if confused, then stepped up to the tablet and pressed his hand against it. He began whispering, the words so fast I couldn’t make them out. Light flared into the stone, and the shades of black and grey sharpened as additional hints of color emerged, all transforming and expanding. Not in the words. No. In the pictograms and the larger sketches.
Yes, those were two separate figures, above and below.
My dreams flashed back into my mind.
The figures.
Two.
There had been two.
One above.
One below.
