“I heard there had been a last-minute change. Think she’s from Feywood?”
“She’s young. Healthy. Might be worth keeping an eye on.”
Word of my replacing Ragnar had spread quickly, it seemed. Back in the provinces, we were too far removed to know much about what occurred during the tournaments until after the fact. But here, the people had access to news much faster. They could witness the trials as they unfolded. We were nothing more than a spectacle to them, a brief burst of entertainment after ten years of normalcy.
Still, a spectacle was better than a pariah.
The sun rose steadily in the sky as I reached the mausoleum. A giant stone structure greeted me when I rounded the last curve, easily two stories tall with a deep gray marble staircase leading to the entrance. The rectangular crypt’s towering figure rose from the ground and came to a point at the top, with two marble columns at the enormous front door. Thick vines snaked over the crumbling stone. Several crows rested on the tip of the roof, their caws echoing on the wind as leaves crunched beneath my feet.
Before the winding path in front of the entrance stood a stone tablet resting on top of a post. Etched onto it was a dedication to the deceased former monarchs and their kin, whose bones now lay inside the mausoleum.
Excitement mounted in me as I approached the staircase, the large wooden doors looming closer and closer with every step. Slowly, I reached out to grip the wrought iron handle.
Snap.
I whirled around, my hand halfway to my charms.
Nothing was there.
Letting out a long exhale, I turned back and pulled the door open, stepping into the dark, dusty crypt.
The atmosphere was dry and stale. The only light came from one large window at the front and a circular one on the ceiling, projecting a small beam of sunlight into the center. Its raysrevealed trapped dust hanging in the air, a plume of it rising around the door when it shut behind me with acreak.
It wasn’t a very large building—a single room with four walls, three of which had rows and rows of marble rectangles embedded into the stone. Glancing at the nearest one, I spotted faint inscriptions carved into each, marking the resting place of late emperors and family members. I spent the next few minutes quickly scouring the space. I ran my hand along the edges of the wall, in between cracks in the stone, examining loose rock in the floor.Anythingthat looked out of place. But all I found were cobwebs and dead spiders. There were no doors besides the entrance, no other hallways to explore. Just this single, massive, empty room.
I was about to head back outside to walk around the structure and see if anything stood out when I remembered the second line to the Alchemist clue.It is cloaked in the day, and revealed in the night.
Well, I certainly wasn’t waiting till nightfall. If the artifact was hidden during the day, perhaps I just needed to make it dark. I rubbed at the back of my neck, wracking my mind for a charm or spell that could take awaylight. Where was a Shadow Wielder when I needed one?
If I could shove a tall pillar in front of the window to block the sun, or perhaps run back to the palace to find a cloak large enough to hang…but then, there was still the one on the ceiling. I could perform a levitation spell for that. Or?—
My gaze landed out the window to the sturdy green vines trailing down the marble columns. Would it be possible to…
I opened my pouch of charms and took a pinch of dandelion leaf. By itself, it was used to open—doors, locks, anything bound. But mixed with wormwood, it could expel items or bring them closer.
A summoning charm.
I put the two herbs on my tongue, focused on the sprouting vines, and muttered, “Voquer.”
Like thick snakes winding across stone, the vines began tomove. Slowly at first, then picking up speed as more followed, some crawling their way to the window and others carving a path up the side of the mausoleum until they were out of sight above my head.
The room began to darken. It was as if a blanket had been thrown over the sun, shrouding the once-lit space in eerie shadows. There was still a faint hint of light coming in from the cracks, enough for me to barely see my hand in front of my face or the window at my side. The vines pulsed and writhed, a living barrier between me and the outside world.
Looking around the room, my gaze landed on a glow emanating from one of the boxes inlaid in the stone wall.
I crossed to it and felt along the corners of the marble rectangle. My fingers found a groove on both sides, and I tugged. The piece of stone broke from the wall and sent small rocks tumbling to the floor, leaving behind a cavity large enough for a body to fit.
Instead of brittle bones and cloth coverings like I expected to see, a single purple crystal lay in the opening. An amethyst crystal, one many Alchemists wore as amulets of wisdom and prophecy.
This had to be it. My artifact from the riddle.
Heart thumping wildly, a triumphant grin pulled at my lips as I reached in to grab the crystal.
The moment I touched it, the amethyst disintegrated.
My stomach dropped. I frantically searched the small space, running my hand into each crevice, extending my arm as far as it could go into the wall.
When it was apparent the crystal had truly disappeared, I pulled my arm from the hole and let out a frustrated groan, slumping against the wall and dropping my head back until it hit the hard stone.
