I know this is the place.
I clutch the jewel hard in my hands, and I can feel the edges dig into my clenched fist. I refuse to accept defeat or consider an alternative path.
Show me the truth.
I push my free palm against the stone wall once more, not caring that I look insane to the others, and pray that this will somehow work. Crazier things have happened, right? But once again, I’m met with nothing. My shoulders slacken, and I turn around to face the others, even though I’m filled with embarrassment. Maines and Larkin offer me reassuring smiles.
“We will try another route,” Silas says.
“I’m sorry,” I respond. “I thought this was it.”
Warrick spins on his heels to file out of the thin hallway, but I remain frozen in my spot.
The wall, stone, and hallway around me begin to tremble, and the stone sends a painful zap shooting up my arm. My dark veins start to pulse, and I jerk my head toward the wall and step back a few paces, only to stop against Silas’s strong chest. The others watch in awe as the once-stone wall begins to shift into a shimmer of brightness, nearly blinding us from the blast of light.
Just like before, the wall shimmers like diamonds floating underneath dark water.
“This is it. It worked.” I mumble to Silas.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Trust me.”
I step forward, feeling vibrations all around me, throbbing as I make my way to enter the Forgotten Archives once more. Fear pulses in my veins, and I attempt to calm my racing heart. I move forward with confidence, but I wish I weren’t doing this alone right now. I pat my pocket to make sure the perfectly folded piece of paper remains there, and I quickly clasp the necklace around my neck.
I place my hand against the stone wall and let the familiar crushing feeling envelop me as I move through the wall and into the Archives. Once again, I pray that I haven’t just walked to my death, and for some reason, I fear I have. I hold my breath as the walls constrict around me, pushing me further into the depths of what feels like another realm. I try to turn my head to watch the others disappear behind me, but the pull of the Archives keeps me focused ahead. Every second I remain in this limbo, I feel my limbs begin to stretch, and a searing pain travels from my core to the tips of my fingers. I grind my molars, and with one final push, I move forward into complete darkness.
I keep my eyes closed, and my body feels like it’s piecing itself back together. Minutes, seconds, or hours pass—I’m not sure—but the familiar smell of aged paper fills my nose. I move my feet, feeling the firm ground under me, and slowly open my eyes.
Just like before, the sconces on the wall ignite with flames, acknowledging the presence of someone entering the library. The candle, just as the last time, sits on the nearby reading table, and I grab it and light the wick from the sconce of the nearby wall. The room is silent, except for my heavy breathing, and to my surprise, no other small serpents slither at my feet, as if they have vanished since I was last here. I’m alone for now, and that doesn’t make me feel any more at ease.
I force myself not to think of the fear I felt the last time I entered this place, but I fail to steady the rhythm of my heart. I exhale a shaky breath and step one foot further into the space.
I quickly survey my surroundings, and my mouth slightly parts in shock when I turn to my left and see towering bookshelves stretching for miles before me. I snap my gaze to the right, where a dark tunnel tucked in the corner gives me nothing but bad vibes. The large wooden table in the middle remains the same, but it’s as if the room has flipped. Everything that was on the left is now on the right, and vice versa.
What the fuck?
Aerona somehow knew that the room would change, and I can’t make sense of how. She wasn’t lying; she was preparing me for the confusion I currently feel. I don’t allow myself to dwell on the change for long, because I know there are still moments left before the creature I hoped never to see again makes its appearance. I glance behind me at the exit, and it looks like an impenetrable wall again. I fight the urge to move forward and instead rush behind the bookshelf to my left. Only silence fills the library, and I wonder how much time I truly have.
My footsteps are nearly soundless as I rush to the side and crouch behind the towering bookshelf. Thousands of books rest toward my back and above my head, concealing me from the library's depths.
So far, so good.
I fumble to reach for my pocket, housing the folded piece of paper that contains the Rigil I will need to draw on myself to shield me from whatever creature haunts the library. As soon as Oak read what the ancient text said, I immediately knew I had to enter the library alone and use my own blood to draw the Rigil on my body three times.
I remove the paper and unfold what Oak gave me with the text and the Rigil. I somewhat remember the exact lines, but hethought it would be beneficial for me to have a guide should I need it, and I did not argue with him about that. I stare at the Rigil before me, and the color drains from my face. The ink is smudged, and I can’t fully make out the exact lines. If the Rigils aren’t completed to perfection, the ritual won’t work. I squint my eyes to better focus, but the lines are too smudged for me to have an exact replica.
My hands begin to tremble, and I dive into my memory, making sure I can remember the marking as well as possible. A fuzzy image of the Rigil comes to mind, and I have one shot to get this right. I unsheath the dagger from my side and take a deep breath. I will have to cut myself deeply to get all the blood needed for three intricate Rigils. I pull up my sleeve and prepare for the pain.
I place the blade across my upper forearm and press into my skin. Painful memories flash across my mind. Barlowe and his lifeless body lying below me, moments from death, and Yara, slicing her own neck.
Not now. Don’t panic now.
I hesitate to swipe the blade across my arm when I hear it—a low growl that drains me of all happiness, as it sounds through the library. I jolt and drop the blade, sending it crashing to the ground.
Chapter 35
Ipress my back against the bookshelf and try to calm my breathing. The dagger is a few feet in front of me, so I lean forward to reach for the blade, but it’s too far away. My mind freezes, and for a second, I can’t think of the Rigil that I need to draw on my body. I use my foot to reach for the blade and successfully snag it, pulling it back within arm’s reach.
