A sharp claw drags its point along my mind, and I flinch, earning a look from both men.
The tattoo is severed, and Kalix is back, silently taunting me.
Silas says, “My mother told me that ancient texts are stored there, dating back to before and shortly after the Great Battle. Many records concerning the Great Wiitches were burned, resulting in the loss of a lot of information. However, there was a group of individuals who collected everything they could and established the Forgotten Archives to keep the information safe in case it was ever needed again.”
“So, that’s why something dark guards it,” I add.
“Exactly. What’s inside was meant to be burned, forever lost to the flames. Not even my mother knows exactly what’s in there.She’s been fortunate enough to be granted access, but has always been driven out by the lurking shadows within.”
“Did she know anything else?” Larkin asks.
“I didn’t get much information beyond that because, well, you know. But Fenmore stayed back to continue the conversation."
“We should head back,” Larkin says. “We need to get into the Archives.”
Realization hits me, suddenly. “Yara. What time is it?”
“When I left the castle, it was late afternoon. Since it’s dark outside, I’d guess it’s nearly 8 P.M.,” Silas responds.
“We were supposed to meet her in your room.” I stumble toward the small exit leading back into the opening. “We need to leave right now.”
“First of all, you aren’t rushing anywhere.” Silas raises his hands. “Secondly, Maines and Oak will be in my room in case she shows up early. Fortunately, we prepared for situations like this to happen to you, Briar.” Silas grimaces. “We can head to the castle, but it’s going to be at a slow pace. I won’t push your body right now. You nearly died.”
I groan. “You’re such a worrywart."
“I might be, yes, but at least I’m prepared. Warrick is taking care of Myah and Atlas. So, it looks like the three of us will be heading to the castle.”
“How long will it take us to get there?” I snap.
“If Larkin and I take turns shifting you, we should be able to get there in under an hour," Silas calculates.
“That’s too slow."
“I’m sorry, but I’m not pushing you," he says, as he walks behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “Only you would return from near death, demanding things.”
I nudge him. “I’m fine."
“And only you would come back from near death and lie straight to my face,” he smirks.
I lift my arm to prove my statement and wince.
Shit.
“Let me see your shoulder,” Silas demands, as he pulls down the fabric to examine the healing gash. “Welcome to the scar club. It looks like you were mauled.”
"Well, it’s fortunate that’s exactly what occurred, isn’t it?”
He kisses around the injury. “It makes you even more perfect.”
“Can we go?” Larkin snaps from behind us. “I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”
“What about your trap?” I ask. “Don’t you need to harvest the poison?"
“I’ll be back in a few days. It’s not going anywhere,” he replies. “And no, you won’t be coming with me.”
I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t even going to ask.”
We walk toward the large opening between the two colliding mountains. Faint flashes of memories flicker in my mind, but they are as blurred as my vision once was. Jagged rocks jut out from the sides, and that’s when I realize why they refer to it as Death’s Opening. The rocks resemble razor-sharp teeth emerging from the mouth of a creature made of stone.
