Her anger softens, replaced by a grin that lights up even the darkest corners of the cavern. “It’s fine, Khol,” she says, and her sincerity hits me harder than any apology I’ve ever made. “Just…keep an open mind. I don’t question your weird snake-egg-hatching theories outright, do I?”
Snorting, I shake my head. “You act like you’re going to pull a Sandra Bullock, but no, you don’t question it. Point taken.”
“Everyone, watch your step,” Tiernan mutters, his voice a low thrum in the heavy air of the cavernous room. He’s gesturing to what looks like an altar—or maybe it’s a control panel—crafted from stone and metal sitting dead center beneath the precarious ceiling.
“That’s not ominous at all. Guess we should get to sleuthing,” I say, squinting in the dim light as I pull out one of the flashlights the leopard passed around. The beam cuts through the darkness, spotlighting dust motes dancing like spirits in the stale air.
We scatter without another word, each of us drawn to different corners of the chamber. My flashlight sweeps across the walls, illuminating carvings so intricate they could be maps of entire galaxies. But there are no instructions, no handy ‘insert tab A into slot B’ to guide us.
Fucking Fae and their stupid ass riddles.
“Anything?” I call out after several long minutes of fruitless searching. Silence greets me, punctuated only by the soft sounds of our exploration: the scrape of Dezi’s boot against stone, Revelin’s quiet murmur as he reads some unseen script, Fiadh’s steady breathing.
Then there’s a shift in the air—a pulse of something electric that evenI feel. Our witch gasps, her voice echoing around us. “I think I’ve got it,” she declares, her tone threaded with excitement and awe.
We converge on her as she stands before a mural depicting the night sky in a swirl of silver and sapphire. Her fingers dance over the constellations as if she’s playing an instrument only she can see. “See here?” Fi’s hand hovers above a cluster of stars shaped like an archer. “Sagittarius—but not quite as we know it. This is older, maybe unblemished by human interpretation. If we align the mechanisms with these constellations...”
“This is wild magic,” Revelin breathes, tracing symbols that crawl like ivy around the edges of the mural. His eyes gleam with a knowledge born of his lineage, of secrets passed down through generations. “Only the Hunt uses it now. Maybe they’re connected to this place?”
“Hey, Bloodbag, can you make anything of this text?” I ask, pointing to a line of characters that might as well be random scratches to my untrained eye.
“This isancient,” he murmurs, running his fingertips over the words. “It’s a directive—a command for the stars to guide the way, but it’s in a tongue not spoken for countless centuries. By vampires.”
Well, that’s fucking weird smack dab in the middle of Faerie.
“The stars should guide the way to what? And why would vampires give a shit?” I wonder aloud, more to myself than anyone else.
“We won’t find any answers unless we keep poking around,” Tiernan chimes in. His hands are already probing the odd configuration at the room’s heart, his analytical mind dissecting its purpose.
“Look for Sagittarius,” Sassy instructs us, her voice imbued with newfound authority. “And its kin—the surrounding constellations. I think they’re the key.”
Tiernan and I exchange a glance, a silent agreement passing between us. We set to work, each of us a cog in a machine far greater than thesum of its parts. My hands move over cold metal, feeling for catches, levers, anything that might be manipulated.
“Here,” Tiernan calls out, his fingers deftly adjusting a series of dials carved into the side of the central device. “These must represent celestial bodies.”
The next steps are all about following Fiadh’s lead, Revelin’s interpretations, Dezi’s translations, and Tiernan’s mechanical intuition. But each discovery builds upon the last until we stand back, panting and expectant, watching the pieces of the puzzle we’ve assembled wait to come alive.
“Did we do it?” Tiernan asks, his usual confidence replaced by a hint of trepidation.
“Move it left,” Fiadh’s voice is calm but insistent as she channels her magic, her fingers tracing invisible lines in the air, connecting dots only she can see. Beside me, Tiernan grunts as he shifts a heavy stone disc, its surface etched with constellations that suddenly seem to dance under Fiadh’s influence. “Rev, I need your help.”
“Steady there,” Dezi says, he maneuvers a large, angular object into a notch on the floor. It fits with a satisfying clunk, setting off a series of soft clicks that echo through the chamber like a whispered incantation.
I watch them work, feeling useless for a moment, until Tiernan beckons me over. “Khol, help me with this last part.” I nod, moving to assist him with what looks like an elaborate astrolabe, its arms poised to align.
“Ready?” Revelin asks from his spot next to our mate, his eyes seeking confirmation.
I place my hands on the cool metal, waiting for his signal.Now or never, I guess.
“Now,” he commands, and together, we twist the mechanism. A final, resonant click sounds—a chorus of ancient machinery coming to life—and the room holds its breath before it surrenders to change.
The ground trembles beneath our feet, dust motes sparkling in our beams of light as if the very air is electrified with anticipation. Then, right where the central device stood, the floor retreats, stone grinding against stone, revealing a compartment that was hidden from time itself.
“Careful,” I warn, instinctively reaching out to steady Sassy as she leans forward, her curiosity piqued by the pulsing glow emanating from within the cavity. Inside it lies a map, its lines shimmering with a light that seems to have been captured from the stars themselves.
“By the moons...” she breathes out, her voice a mixture of awe and reverence.
I can’t help but share in it. I recognize the place the map details from our previous research. It’s the entire Harvest Court, but the layout focuses on the capital of Amber Hollow—our next and last destination.
