Page 25 of Return of the Darkness (The Lost Kingdom Saga #3)
“I have prepared a space for you here. The shelves in that room at the back are the oldest. The priest usually has them under lock and key, but he’s taken ill, so I thought that would be a good place to start.
I have not read the tomes in there myself.
” Vivian gestured to the large circular wooden table, where a lantern sat propped in the centre.
A door, slightly ajar, was located behind it.
Larelle was sceptical of the priest’s illness, especially following his refusal to meet her on their last visit, disapproving of her family’s inconsistent religious practice.
“I will be at my desk here.” Vivian moved towards the smaller table near the bookshelves.
“Are you working on much today?” Alvan asked politely, guiding Zarya to a chair at the table. Lillian took the spot beside her.
“Plenty,” Vivian said. She still stood beside her desk, seeming to wait until the princess was seated and the queen had begun rifling among the shelves.
“I am tasked with copying every text we have onto new parchment to be bound. Some books and parchments are so old the text is fading. Copying each will allow us to always have an accurate record of our history should the originals wear beyond use.”
“I hope today's work is interesting for you,” Larelle said, glancing at the names on the parchment tucked between the metal ends of the bookcases as a signal of what could be found within its depths. Political Allegiances, Purifying Practices, Historical Lineages.
“Very interesting, your Majesty. I do not know if it is a prophecy, a depiction of someone's life, or a completely fabricated story for reader enjoyment. However, it is rather intriguing.” Zarya’s eyes lit up at the mention of a story, which did not go unnoticed by the acolyte.
“Perhaps if you tire of helping your mother, you could help me, princess?” Zarya offered a polite smile but glanced away quickly and leaned towards Lillian.
Larelle thanked her before turning towards the unlocked door at the back wall to share a frown with Alvan.
The princess was rarely shy. An uncomfortable weight rested on Larelle’s chest as she stepped from the stone floor to one coated in dust. Her footprints left a trail as she pushed further in.
Only a single flame on the wall lit the space.
The furthest shelves appeared to hide secrets upon secrets in its depths.
Only four bookcases were visible—two in front and two behind—though she was uncertain how far back the cases stretched.
A shiver ran up her spine. For the first time since she was a child, Larelle feared what might lie in the dark.
The two bookcases looked like they could topple over at any minute. The lower shelves overflowed with parchments while books lined the top three, with ten on each shelf. Larelle peered around the edge of the bookcase, squinting into the darkness.
“Would—”
Larelle squeaked as a hand seized her elbow. She whirled around to face Alvan, who recoiled at Larelle’s hair hitting his face. Before she could fall backward into the precariously balanced shelving, he snaked his arm around her waist to keep her upright.
“Would you like some help?” He smiled, searching her face.
She blushed. Alvan removed his arm, but Larelle noted how it lingered on her lower back for a moment.
“I found a book on creatures for Zarya. Lillian is helping her to read, so I’m all yours,” Alvan said, scanning the worn leather books before them.
Larelle glanced back through the doorway to watch her daughter, but she spoke animatedly with Lillian now, smiling.
“I can’t quite reach the top shelves but these two cases appear to be about the gods, although they’re written in a language I don’t recognise,” Larelle said. Alvan carefully pulled the books from the shelves. Garridon: Lyve ed Daifu.
“I’ll stack those in a different language here. They might have helpful illustrations,” he said, placing the books on a worn stool in the corner, the only other furniture in the room. “Have you checked the rolled parchments?” Larelle shook her head, glancing back into the darkness.
“Something tells me we may find what we need back there,” she said.
“Hidden away,” said Alvan, pulling the lantern from the wall.
Larelle hummed her agreement and glanced around the door again to check on Zarya, whilst Alvan pulled the lantern from the wall.
Her daughter was hunched over with a smile, pointing at illustrations on the pages while Lillian pointed at the words, trying to encourage the princess to read.
Larelle’s eyes drifted over Zarya’s head to where Vivian sat.
The acolyte glanced between her work and the princess, furrowing her brow.
Larelle straightened. Vivian seemed interested in Zarya, but why?
Could she sense something about her power?
“Shall we?” Alvan asked. Larelle turned back to him, deciding her questions for Vivian could wait.
The glow of the lantern illuminated Alvan’s face as he offered his hand.
Their fingers easily interlocked, and she relished the blanket of warmth and security only he could provide.
She led them around the two bookcases and into the darkness, where two more cases stood behind.
Their shelves were bare, filled only with dust and cobwebs.
Behind it, the room stretched further until she realised it was no room at all, but a widened hallway.
Alvan lifted the lantern higher, but it made little difference. They could not see the end.
“There may be nothing down here,” Alvan whispered.
“Then why keep it under lock and key? Even the acolyte has not been here,” Larelle whispered, afraid of what might hear them in the darkness. Only the quiet footfalls of the queen and her lord echoed down the stone hallway. Alvan lifted the lantern higher at points, scanning the walls.
After nearly thirty minutes of walking, Larelle had no bearing of what direction they were headed, or where in the city they may end up; the path continued declining, suggesting they had exited the height of the church archives.
Eventually, the lantern in Alvan’s hands illuminated more bookcases, urging Larelle onward.
She released Alvan’s hand. Bookcases lined either side of the hallway, guiding whoever may look further into the darkness.
They were similar to the cases in the earlier room, except they held far more books.
Larelle blew the dust from the spines and reached to run her thumb over the title. Her breath caught . Thassena.
“Arik said this name when he took me to the cave,” Larelle said, her eyes widening. Alvan hurried behind her to the next case on the opposite wall and cleared another spine with his hand, coating his fingers with dust.
“Eresydon,” Alvan said, turning to her.
“Asynthos. These must be other lands. It explains why Osiris and Arik knew of them. ”
“Do you think they hail from one of these?” Alvan asked.
Larelle moved to the next case and brushed her hand over a row of crimson leather books.
Before she could brush away the dust to read its title, a crash sounded in the darkness.
Alvan grabbed her hand, and the pair froze, listening.
Another crash echoed down the hallway and ricocheted off the walls.
“What do you wish to do?” Alvan asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Larelle glanced at the shelves, waiting for another sound.
The crash had stopped, but that did not mean that something—or someone—was not hidden down the hallway, locked away from all eyes.
Worry gnawed at her mind, but Larelle knew she would be doing herself and her fellow rulers a disservice by not exploring anything that might aid their plight.
“Into the darkness we go,” Larelle murmured, gripping Alvan’s hand.
“Together.”