Page 23

Raphael, for all his disappearances in our time at the cabin, hadn’t bothered to steal another horse, which meant I was back to riding on Alphonse with him. He had, however, picked up a choice few cards, including one that enchanted the horse’s legs to be able to handle the wet terrain.

Since he couldn’t cast the cards himself, surely that meant he’d expected me to come with him. Imperious vampire.

But I went with him anyway. I couldn’t stay in Apante after Raphael had just killed the highest-ranking members of the Apante Monastery, which was the only place that could shelter me.

My next best hope was to follow him north, and once he accomplished his goal, convince him to deposit me in a village where I could build a life undetected.

Eventually, the king’s men would likely find me, and I’d need to run and find somewhere new or be caught, but I didn’t have a better option yet.

He rode with uncharacteristic gentleness. Whether it was because of the marsh’s terrain or that he had some lingering concern about my wellbeing… it was easier to believe the former.

We reached the temple a few days later. There was no mistaking the sight.

Buried in the depths of the marshes was a temple perhaps half the size of the Monastery and a third as tall.

It was made of shiny black stone that had withstood the elements.

Even covered in years of vines and shrouded in mists, it radiated power.

Something in me felt compelled to see the inside in a way I hadn’t felt at the Great Library or the Monastery.

Another puzzle.

“You’ll wait here,” Raphael declared, dismounting from Alphonse with ease.

“I most certainly will not,” I retorted. “And let an ogre have me for lunch?”

“You don’t have enough meat to entice an ogre to expend the effort.”

I looked around dramatically. “Ah, yes. Because ogres in the marshes have so many options, they’re picky about which weak little humans they snack on.”

“There’ll be traps. It’s too dangerous. ”

I frowned. “You sound like you’ve been inside before.”

A beat. “I have.”

So it wasn’t luck that led us so easily to the temple. Still, why? Were things so different hundreds of years ago that vampires ventured into the Witch Kingdom for temples?

Or was it from his life… before?

“Then you’ll keep me safe,” I countered. “You’re the one who’s constantly been saying I’m safer with you than without you.”

Raphael hesitated. Indecision warred inside him—he obviously wasn’t used me challenging him on his plans.

Especially not me asserting any kind of trust in him.

But I did trust the vampire—to a point. And more than that, I wanted to go inside that temple, the way a child wants to run down a long, empty corridor.

And I really didn’t want to find out which of us was right about ogre preferences.

I could see the moment I won him over. “Step where I step. And don’t touch anything ,” he warned while helping me off the horse.

I rolled my eyes and followed him inside.

The temple was dark.

There was barely any other way to describe it. Despite the aged appearance, inside was all sleek black stone. Unnatural, glistening stone, all one piece rather than blocks, as though the temple had been carved from onyx.

Raphael moved cautiously inside, but with his vampire vision, the dark wasn’t an issue.

Me, I had to improvise. I’d snagged a branch from the marsh and concentrated, using one of the fire cards to light it.

The magic had to work uphill to keep the waterlogged wood alight.

The light was dim, barely enough for me to see the area directly in front of me.

If Raphael stopped abruptly, I’d probably knock into him.

The air pricked against my skin. Gooseflesh pebbled on my arms as we moved past the entryway. The magic was thick in the air.

At the first fork, Raphael didn’t hesitate to go left.

“How do you know your way around?” I asked, my words echoing off the walls.

He paused, briefly running his fingers against the wall. Could he feel the magic radiating off of the stone as I could? “All that matters is I do. Now, do exactly as I do.”

He pressed a palm into the stone again, and to my shock, the wall rippled like it was made of water. On the floor, the stone lit up splashes of red and blue. He moved deftly over them. Each lit spot sparkled slightly when his foot bore down on it. He only touched the red ones.

I slid my hand against the wall, trying to find the exact spot he’d used. The stone was firm, but when I pressed, it rippled for me, just as it had for him.

But that wasn’t all .

The tingling sensation of magic moved to a faster vibration, like I was shaking even as my body stood still. Like the ripples moved from the wall into me.

Like something was waking up.

“Little dove,” Raphael hissed, snapping me from the sensation. “Stop dawdling.”

“I’m not dawdling,” I grumbled, matching my steps to the red spots.

As my foot landed, sparks flew and then the area behind me darkened.

The vibrations no longer filled my body.

I turned back and lifted my torch to look, but the path behind us was back to normal.

Since it reacted to me, it wasn’t Raphael somehow using magic to navigate, but rather the temple’s own magic.

He paused at the next intersection, as if considering.

To the left.

I wasn’t sure where the thought came from, only that it was sudden, strange, and certain, but a second later, Raphael shifted and went down the path to our left.

A lucky guess. That was all.

The hall was identical to the one before, except there were three levers planted in the stone. Here, once again, Raphael seemingly knew just what to do. He pulled the first and third one.

Nothing happened, but he began to walk forward.

“What was the point of that?” I asked. I wanted to get a closer look at the lever system, to see how it worked, but he’d have a conniption .

“If I didn’t do that, the floor would’ve swallowed us whole as we walked across,” he said tersely.

“Really?” I frowned. I knew objects could be enchanted, but only temporarily. This place likely had been uninhabited for centuries, so how was this magic still working?

“This is the temple of a goddess. The same way the prison swallowed magic, her temple breathes it.”

Greymere drove witches mad by blocking their abilities. How would a witch react to the opposite? They should surely be drawn to magic like this, yet the place was abandoned. The Monastery had taken over the place of most temples, utterly devoid of magic by comparison.

Raphael turned the next corner but didn’t advance. He stopped so abruptly I nearly hit him. Confused, I peered past his arm, trying to see.

There was nothing.

More accurately, from the torchlight, there was nothing directly in front of the archway but a massive dark hole.

“What part of the wall do you have to press now?” I asked.

“None. This isn’t a magical trap.”

I frowned. “Then how do we get by?”

He pointed to the right, and I leaned forward to see what he was looking at. At the very edge, jutting from the wall, was a small lip, maybe three-quarters the length of my foot. It ran as far as I could see.

“We’re not…”

“We are. ”

I swallowed. “What happens if we fall?”

“My suggestion is don’t .”

That didn’t make me feel any better. “But if we do?”

“You get impaled on one of the spikes below.”

Wonderful.

I could’ve insisted I stay here and wait for him to come back. Of course, if he took too long, the fire would go out and I’d have no way to find my way back. But there was something about the temple. Something that was drawing me deeper and deeper in.

He turned back to face me. “You can stay here,” he said, reading my hesitation.

I shook my head. “I can manage.”

“I’ll hold the torch for you, then.”

Before I could ask how, Raphael disappeared.

A breeze hit my face.

No, not a breeze. I stared at the spot where Raphael had been standing. In his place, at eye level with me, was a large bat.

He flapped towards my hands, an indication to give him the torch.

I was still staring at the creature in front of me.

“You can turn into a bat ?”

He dove at my hands again, more impatient.

I’d never sleep well again. Not if vampires could turn into random animals.

Well… if I impaled myself on a spike in the pit, it wouldn’t matter .

I lifted the torch to him, uncertain if his small, clawed feet could grasp it, but they managed, digging so hard into the wood it dented.

Apparently, vampire strength extended to other forms. He moved from the edge to the space over the chasm, lighting the ledge for me.

I stepped onto the lip, pressing my weight towards the wall.

My heart slammed against my ribs, but I mastered my breathing and slowly moved one foot forward, then the other.

Bat-Raphael lit the way, a few paces ahead.

I didn’t dare look any farther. I didn’t want to know how far I had to go.

The stone was smooth, and the slick sweat of my palms meant I couldn’t even fool myself into thinking I had any kind of grip.

When faced with a terrifying situation, the only thing to do was keep moving.

So that was what I did, one slow foot drag at a time.

It could’ve been an hour for all I knew.

When I eased around another corner, I dared to let myself believe I might actually make it.

I was close. So close. Raphael flew closer, the beating of his wings cooling the sweat beading on my neck.

The torch seemed to be growing dimmer, but perhaps that was just my nerves.

It lit the space immediately in front of me, so I stepped there, then again and again.

I’m going to make it.

Then the dim light sputtered out.

And I was in the dark.

Clinging to the wall.