Page 111 of A Wayward Movement

“Shame you can’t do fire, Zuzu,” he said. “But then again, sight isn’t everything.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on his magical sense, such as it was. The process helped to sharpen his awareness of the linking enchantment. Once it had his full focus, there was no denying the direction of its pull. He walked forward confidently, his eyes still closed.

Zuzu’s squawk of protest was his first clue something was amiss, the sound almost drowning his guard’s voice.

“Your Highness, you’re walking into a—”

The warning cut off abruptly, and Xavier opened his eyes. He could see nothing at all around him, but he could still hear the shocked exclamations of his guards.

“I’m here,” he called out. “I’m unharmed. I just can’t see anything.”

“You walked through a solid rock wall,” one of his guards protested. A moment later, Xavier felt a hand collide with his side.

“That’s my ribs,” he said conversationally. “And judging by the fact that you can still reach out and touch them, I’m guessing I didn’t walk through a solid rock wall so much as an illusion that looks like a solid rock wall.”

He shifted out of the way, and one by one, the guards followed him in. By the time everyone was through, his eyes had started to adjust a little, but visibility was still very poor. The illusion looked like rock from their side of it as well as the other, which meant it let no light through.

“Quietly, now,” he told his men, sliding his sword from its scabbard as he inched forward.

Even Zuzu fell silent, pressing the feline part of her body against Xavier’s neck. Xavier knew exactly where to go, thanks to the tug from the enchantment. But even without it, there was only one course.

Moving so softly he could barely hear them, Xavier’s little team reached the end of the tunnel and emerged into a long room with a higher ceiling. Tiny shafts of light came down from above at periodic intervals, lighting the space just enough to get a sense of its shape. It stretched out in a long corridor, some kind of small feature appearing repeatedly at ground level.

“This looks like a burial vault,” breathed one of the guards. “We shouldn’t enter, Your Highness.”

“I’m not superstitious,” Xavier murmured. The intensity of the link in his chest gave him confidence he was on firm ground. “But I am strategic enough to recognize that somewhere people fear would be a good place to hide what you don’t want found.”

Zuzu launched from his shoulder, flying silently along the length of the space and coming to land on the floor partway down.

“Your Highness.” The second guard’s voice was choked. “There are bodies. It’s definitely a—”

“Xavier?”

The voice was so faint, Xavier would have missed it if not for one thing. Namely that it was the sweetest and most familiar sound in the world.

“Alina!” He threw himself forward, desperate to find her among the many openings. “Alina, where are you?”

His guards tried to caution him, but for the moment, he’d lost his head. Whether it was the linking enchantment or simply his own need, he didn’t know. But he had to find her, and immediately.

Moving painfully slowly, a hand snaked out between the grates part of the way down the row. Right next to Zuzu.

“Alina!”

He was on his knees in a second, enfolding her hand in his. He could see now that she was lying in what bore every resemblance to a tomb, silent and barely moving, and the sight terrified him.

“How do I get you out?” he asked desperately.

“They must have gotten her in somehow,” one of the guards volunteered.

The man was right. Xavier’s eyes strained in the dimness, trying to make sense of the mechanism over the opening. The grate was solid and heavy, but he realized now that there was a latch above that was only secured with a simple lock. He stood, raising his sword. Three swift strikes from its hilt, and the lock broke off. One of the guards hurried forward to help slide the grate upward, allowing Xavier to gently pull Alina free.

He’d expected her to clamber to her feet once clear of the enclosure, so fear gripped him when she still didn’t move.

“Alina?” he said. “Talk to me.”

“I’m…all right,” she managed, her voice weak and labored. “Can’t move…or…I’ll die.”

“What?” They clearly had very different definitions of all right. Questions poured through Xavier’s mind, but it was clear that the effort of answering them would be too much for Alina.