That’s a vague, meaningless statement, suggesting that we need to replenish our magic in order to free the Witch King. It’s true that wearedrained after transcending the castle, but I don’t have the slightest inkling on how to free anyone from this place, and I wouldn’t release my sinister ancestor even if I knew how to do it.
Eventually, he’ll realize we didn’t come here to free him, but I suppose we can postpone this moment.
Until when?
The Witch King raises a long-nailed finger to his chin. “You test my patience. My goodwill. I might get bored and decide to carve an eye out of one of you if you take too long.” He tilts his head and makes me think of a pigeon. “Whose eye first?”
“We’llfreeyou first.” I manage to sound confident. “And stand by your side.”
“Yes, yes.” The Witch King stares at his hand, then back at us, one of his dark eyebrows raised. “Can you at least feel it?”
I don’t know what he means, and I’m afraid to ask.
“The magic imprisoning Your Majesty,” Azur says. “It’s here, yes. Strong, but breakable.” Can Azur feel it? Or did he deduce the answer the Witch King wanted? He didn’t say he felt it.
“Allmagic is breakable.” The Witch King snaps his fingers. “I have something to show you.”
Two ghouls approach us, and I have to force myself not to recoil at their proximity.
“Follow them,” the Witch King says.
I swallow a sigh of relief as I realize the grisly creatures aren’t about to chain us or anything of the sort, and yet I don’t know where this self-proclaimed king plans to take us, what he plans to do to us, and I don’t know if being his descendant will protect me or doom me. All I can do is pay attention, watch, and hold on to the hope that I’ll find a way out.
The two ghouls walk to the back of the cave, and Azur and I follow. I sense heavy steps behind us, and even without looking, know that the Witch King is trailing us, like some putrid smoke with a distinctive stench.
The other ghouls stand still, watching. I take a better look at the cave and see two columns, one of them with an unfinishedcarving at the bottom, looking like a four-legged animal like a dog or wolf. It reminds me of…
The Tiurian sanctuary. If I linger on the memory of the morning I spent there with Marlak, my chest will crumble like paper, aching to reunite with my husband. I push away those thoughts and focus on the cave.
This must be a partially built Tiurian sanctuary, perhaps abandoned once it became a magical prison. Everything about this place is Tiurian, and I suppose I’d feel that strange sense of familiarity if it wasn’t for the circumstances.
The dreadful mud creatures enter a tunnel, the light from the stones fading behind us. I can still feel my own light magic, despite my exhaustion, but I don’t want to use it.
At least not yet.
Instead, I follow the creatures in this semi-darkness, barely able to see anything, even as my eyes adjust to the lack of light.
Azur walks beside me, my shoulder touching his arm as the tunnel gets narrower, his presence an odd grounding comfort in this horrific place. Our distance from the ghouls ahead of us increases as we step carefully on the uneven ground sloping upward, probably towards the exit of this cave.
Is leaving here as simple as walking out? If it is, why did Azur mention needing magic to free the Witch King?
The two creatures are far ahead of us when faint rays of light reach us from the opening, likely from the moon and stars outside.
My feet feel heavy, my stomach contorted, my chest tight.
Outside. We’rethatclose.
I recall when the giants took Nelsin—and their plea.
Stop. Don’t let it break.Don’t let it get out.
They wanted me to stop whatever was underneath the earth, trying to escape. Now I know what it was: the Witch King. Andyet now we’re this close to the surface. If he escapes, will the giants kill Nelsin? A chill covers my skin. I can’t let it happen.
After a few more steps, something touches my head; an odd filament, like some kind of spiderweb. I’m about to push it aside, when strong fingers wrap my elbow and squeeze so hard it hurts. Azur’s fingers. I don’t dare glance at him, but I think I understand what he means, and stop.
I realize then that the filaments are made of a dim light, with some type of faint magic emanating from them. On oddly pleasant magic that feels familiar somehow—and yet so thin. Is this flimsy thing all that’s keeping the menace in this cave contained?
That won’t hold forever. And if even the ghouls can cross it, it can’t be such a powerful barrier. I wonder if Azur knows more about this magic and how it works, but I can’t ask him right now.
