Page 78 of The Witch and His Crow
Arwyn stepped up behind me, placed a hand on the small of my back and urged me forwards. ‘Thank Hekate you’re not scared of the dark. It seems we’re both about to be well acquainted with it.’
I fought the urge to withdraw back outside, pretend this vault was never here. Hekate only knew what lingered deep in the dark, and I imagined it wasn’t as welcoming as Caym.
Caym. That was why I was here. Testing the theory of old magic and finding a way to get Caym inside the hallowed grounds of the Trial.
That reminder alone narrowed my focus. I stepped aside, feeling every inch of his long fingers as they were forced to slip off my back. ‘You first, Arwyn. Unless you’re the one who is frightened of the dark.’
Arwyn looked between the stairs that led down into the belly of the vault and smiled to himself. ‘Oh, believe me, it’s the light which terrifies me.’
Then with that he climbed over the vault and began his descent, leaving me to ponder the meaning behind such a strange answer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
My nose itched the deeper we descended. Dust was everywhere. In the air, on the walls, even softening out footfalls on the old, wonky steps. It was as if Hekate herself had made stairs that lead directly to hell.
Down we went, until the air was so thick with time that I sneezed and hacked continually to clear my throat. Arwyn side-walked down the stairs, spending most of his time looking behind him, rather than forwards. The ball of blue flame shrunk, as though even the air repelled such magic.
The walls were not man-made, but rough and natural stone which the stairs had been built around, rather than the other way around. Stale water dribbled down the walls, making the steps slippery and the odour of mould abundant. I was careful to keep my hands to myself, not wanting to touch anything. Although I could only see what Arwyn’s fire allowed, I couldn’t stop imaging the thousands of beady spider eyes watching us enter their domain.
‘What good is conjuring fire if it doesn’t warm you up?’ I asked, the question thundering around us. It was cold in the belly of the earth. We must’ve been walking for five minutes, taking hundreds of steps, perhaps more if I bothered to count.
Arwyn shot me a look over his shoulder, mouth pursed and brow peaked. ‘Would you like me to offer you my jacket?’
‘You’re not wearing one,’ I said, fixating on the bulge of his biceps for the umpteenth time.
‘How about my arm then?’
I pushed my arms, gently, into his back. ‘Just keep moving.’
In the end I didn’t need warm fire or the promise of a jacket, not when Arwyn’s soft chuckle warmed me up.
After another few minutes, Arwyn warned me that the floor levelled out. He wasn’t wrong. At the bottom of the stairs, a corridor stretched out on either side. It was deep enough that a small crowd could’ve gathered, but we soon came to the end of the wall. Arwyn lifted his fire around, exposing each side of the corridor. ‘It just goes on and on.’
He must’ve noticed torches on the wall, because with a wave of his hand, the blue flame shot from his palm and hopped between medieval looking sconces. One by one they burst to life, sharing the blue hue until every detail of this strange place was revealed.
I drank it all in as a shiver passed over my skin. This was no corridor you found in a house or castle, but something crafted into the bedrock of the earth. And the itch to the air wasn’t natural as I first believed. It was magic which weighed heavy around me, pressing against my skin. It was as though the dark hummed with it, calling us in whilst repelling us all the same. ‘It’s a tunnel.’
Thanks to Arwyn’s fire, I could see the far-off curve in the distance. If the tunnel was straight, I would’ve seen for a further distance. But the slight curve was evident.
‘You’re right. And it would seem to wrap around the castle,’ Arwyn said, speaking aloud the thought my mind had just pieced together. ‘I think we’ve found the boundary line, Hector.’
A tickle of excitement spurred deep in my gut. I pressed a hand over it, distilling the feeling. Excitement was the wrong word to use to describe the thing inside of me. Because it usually woke when I fought Witch Hunters to the death. A viper, blood-thirsty for revenge.
Why was it waking now?
Everything was screaming at me to leave this place behind and never look back. But I wouldn’t, not until we got what we wanted. Answers. If not to the questions I first expected, then to others.
‘Let’s just get on with it and get back to Romy.’
Arwyn stepped in, noticing the crack in my voice. ‘Don’t be scared now, Hector. You’ll ruin the illusion I have of you.’
That stopped me for a moment. ‘And what illusion is that?’
‘I think you know the answer.’
I looked to the wall at our backs, turning my back on Arwyn so he couldn’t see the physical effect his words had on me. We were, for all intents and purposes, alone. If something was going to happen between us, better here than in a room when Romy was sleeping
No. Stop.It was times like this I needed Caym in my mind, arranging my chaotic thoughts.
