Page 18 of Soul Bound (Cursed Descent (MistHallow Academy) #2)

18

VEX

“Are we sure we want to do this?” Tilly asks as we stare at the circle etched into the floor of the library. “I mean, Big B is going to go ballistic.”

“Big B,” Luc snorts. “Nice. Fitting.”

“We have to. We need more everything. We can ask for forgiveness after.”

“Easier than asking permission?” she mutters.

“Exactly,” I mutter back.

“Easy for you to say,” Draven points out. “We are going to get our arses handed to us by the Devil if Big B finds out about this.”

“He’s going to know,” Tilly says, wringing her hands.

“Look. We aren’t doing anything dangerous. It’s a fact-finding mission. One that will help us with the bigger picture.”

Matilda looks up at me with those big blue eyes, and I fall so hard, I almost stagger.

“I’ll protect you,” I say quietly, reaching out to brush a wayward lock of hair from her face. “All of you. B needs me here, even more so now.”

“Yes, but that’s you. Not us,” she protests. “I think we should tell him.”

“If you go, I go. Simple. It’s an ultimatum he won’t take me up on.”

“You hope,” Luc grits out.

“I know.”

Tilly grips my fingers and looks at the other two guys before she focuses on me. “I trust you.”

My heart thumps. I know how hard that is for her to say out loud in front of other people. “I won’t let you down. I promise.” I lift her hand and kiss her fingertips. “Ready?”

She nods.

Luc and Draven hesitate, but eventually, they agree, and Tilly bends to brush her fingers over the button that will send us careening, or not, to the underground chambers.

This time, we are offered a more elegant arrival in the chambers. A sweeping staircase with a gilt railing and intermittent light to show us the way.

“I don’t like this,” Luc says.

“You’d rather plummet to the ground and land in a heap of pain?” Draven asks.

“I don’t trust this place being nice. Do you?” he hisses.

“Fair point,” Draven whispers back when we arrive at the bottom of the staircase. “Left or right?”

I summon a small sphere of light, letting it drift up to illuminate the ancient stonework. The corridor branches in two directions, both equally uninviting. “Left follows the ley line. If there’s anything worth finding, it’ll be that way.”

“How can you tell?” Matilda asks.

“The stonework.” I run my fingers along the wall, feeling the subtle thrum of power beneath. “These blocks were cut to channel energy. See how the patterns align?”

Luc makes an impatient sound. “Fascinating geology lesson. Can we move before we get our asses eaten?”

“Actually, it’s masonry, not geology,” I correct, just to watch him scowl. “But your point is noted.”

We take the left passage, descending deeper beneath the academy. The air grows thick with age and disuse. Our footsteps echo despite our attempts at stealth.

The tunnel opens into a circular chamber with three other exits. More of the channelling stonework covers the walls, but these patterns are different. Older. The lines of power don’t flow smoothly here. They twist and squirm like living things.

“Well, this is cheerful,” I mutter, raising my light higher. “Anyone else feel like we’re walking into a trap?”

“You brought us down here,” Tilly snaps, probably louder than she meant to.

“Technically, you pressed the button,” I remind her, keeping my voice light despite the growing unease in my gut. “But I hear you.”

She growls at me, and I smirk.

The patterns on the walls shift in my peripheral vision, but when I look directly at them, they’re static. A trick of the light, perhaps. Or something worse.

“These markings,” Draven says, moving closer to the wall. “They’re similar to the ones from the prophecy-curse thing, but...”

“But what?” Luc demands when he trails off.

“They’re incomplete. Like someone deliberately erased parts of them.”

“How do you know? Can you read them now?”

Draven fixes his brother with a narrow-eyed glare. “I happen to be a quick study.” He traces a finger along one of the truncated lines. “See here? This should connect to?—”

A low rumble cuts him off, and the floor beneath our feet trembles slightly.

“Nobody move,” I order, though they’ve already frozen in place. My light sphere flickers, casting strange shadows across the walls. “Tilly, do you feel anything? Any pull, like in the ritual chamber?”

She closes her eyes, concentrating. When she opens them again, they’re bright with an inner fire that makes my breath catch. “It’s different down here. The power feels wrong. Corrupted somehow.”

“Corrupted how?” I ask, but before she can answer, the rumbling intensifies.

“Vex,” Luc’s voice carries a warning. “Those incomplete markings? They’re completing themselves.”

The truncated lines are extending, crawling across the stone like luminescent vines, and they’re all pointing toward the left passage.

“Always left,” I say, trying to maintain my composure, “I suppose that’s as clear an invitation as we’re likely to get.”

“That’s not an invitation,” Luc growls, grabbing Tilly’s arm as she takes a step toward the passage. “That’s a trap.”

I hate agreeing with him, but he’s right. “Hold on,” I murmur, pulling a small leather-bound notebook from my pocket. The pages are filled with my cramped handwriting, diagrams, and calculations from what I remember of this place every time we’ve been down here.

“You kept notes?” Tilly asks, peering over my shoulder.

“Of course, I kept notes. I’m thorough.” I flip through the pages until I find what I’m looking for. “These patterns are not just channelling energy. They’re containment runes.”

“Containing what?” Draven asks, though his tone suggests he already knows.

Another tremor shakes the chamber, stronger this time. Dust rains down from above.

“If I’m right—and I usually am—we’re standing in a buffer zone.” I trace the pattern in my notebook, comparing it to the glowing lines on the wall. “These chambers were designed to absorb excess energy from whatever’s being contained beyond that passage.”

“The fourth Guardian,” Tilly whispers.

“Can we call him the first Guardian?” I murmur, distracted.

The air grows thick with power, making it hard to breathe. The glowing lines pulse in rhythm with my heartbeat, or perhaps my heartbeat is syncing to them. It’s becoming difficult to tell.

“We need to leave,” Luc insists, but Tilly pulls away from him.

“No, wait.” She presses her palm against the wall, and the runes flare brighter. “It’s not trying to trap us. It’s trying to show us something.”

I want to pull her back, but I also want to find out what she can see. “Tilly?—”

“Trust me,” she says, meeting my gaze.

Even when every logical part of my brain is screaming that this is monumentally stupid, I nod. “I do, but if we die, I’m going to be extremely fucked off.”

“It’s a map,” Tilly whispers, her fingers tracing the glowing lines. “The runes are showing us paths. Look.”

I move closer, studying the way the light flows under her touch. The patterns aren’t random. They’re forming a complex network of interconnected lines, like veins beneath the stone.

“The tunnels mirror what’s above,” I mutter, comparing the patterns to my map of MistHallow. “The library, the great hall, the?—”

A sharp crack interrupts my analysis. The floor shifts beneath us, and Draven stumbles backwards.

“Move!” Luc shouts, yanking Draven away from the wall just as a section of stonework crashes down where he’d been standing.

The chamber groans, ancient stone protesting as the tremors intensify. My light sphere flickers wildly, casting frantic shadows across the crumbling walls.

“Left passage,” I order, grabbing Tilly’s hand. “Now!”

We sprint through the opening, the sound of collapsing stone following close behind. The tunnel ahead splits and curves, but Tilly pulls us confidently to the left.

“How do you know—” Luc starts.

“I can feel it,” she cuts him off. “The energy... it’s like breadcrumbs.”

Another section of the ceiling gives way behind us. We run faster.

“There!” Draven points ahead to what looks like a doorway set into the wall. We dive through it just as the tunnel behind us caves in completely.

I maintain my light sphere as the dust settles around us. We’re in some kind of study or archive room, walls lined with shelves of ancient texts and scrolls. A massive desk dominates the centre, its surface covered in papers and what looks like star charts.

“Everyone alive?” I ask, doing a quick headcount.

“Barely,” Luc mutters, brushing stone dust from his clothes. “Still think this was a good idea?”

Before I can respond, Tilly gasps. She’s standing by the desk, holding a journal bound in dark leather.

“What is it?” I ask, moving to her side.

Her hands are trembling as she turns the leather-bound book over. Symbols are burned into the cover. Something primal that moves under my light.

“These marks,” she says, running her fingers over them. “They’re like the ones I see in my head sometimes. When the power comes.” She closes her eyes, her fingers still tracing the symbols. “They’re singing.”

“Singing?” Luc asks sceptically.

But I can feel it, too. A subtle vibration coming from the book, like a tuning fork struck at a frequency just beyond hearing. The runes on my skin tingle, responding to whatever frequency they are emitting.

“Don’t open it,” I warn, but Tilly’s already lifting the cover.

The pages inside are filled with more shifting symbols, but they’re interwoven with detailed diagrams. Astronomical charts, geometric patterns, and what appear to be maps of ley line configurations.

“I can’t read it,” Tilly says, frustrated. “But I can feel it. Like when you hear a song in a language you don’t speak, but you still understand what it means.”

“What’s it telling you?” I ask, fighting the urge to snatch the book away from her. Something about it feels dangerous, but we need whatever information it holds.

She frowns in concentration. “Something about... cycles? And binding. There’s something about the stars...”

“The stars?” I lean closer, studying the intricate charts. “These configurations are ancient positions.”

A distant rumble reminds us we’re not exactly in a secure location. Dust trickles down from new cracks in the ceiling.

“We need to move,” Luc says, already heading for the doorway. He stops short. “Shit.”

The passage we came through is completely blocked with rubble. The only other exit is a narrow archway on the far side of the room, its edges carved with more moving symbols.

“Tilly, bring the book,” I say, already knowing I’ll regret this decision. “Quickly now.”

She clutches it to her chest as we make our way towards the arch. The symbols glow as we approach, pulsing with that same strange rhythm I felt earlier.

“I don’t suppose anyone remembered to mark our path?” Draven asks.

“No need,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “The tunnels mirror what’s above, remember? This archway should lead us toward the eastern wing, which means?—”

Another violent tremor cuts me off. This time, the whole room shakes.

“Less explaining, more running,” Luc suggests.

We dash through the arch just as the ceiling of the study begins to cave in. The book in Tilly’s arms grows warm enough that I can feel its heat from beside her.

“Left or right?” Draven asks as we reach another junction.

“Neither,” Tilly says suddenly. She presses her hand against what appears to be a solid wall, and it dissolves like smoke. “This way.”

I catch her eye as we hurry through the hidden passage. “You’re going to explain how you knew about that, right?”

“The book told me,” she says simply, as if that’s a perfectly normal explanation.

The air ahead shivers like a heat mirage. I grab Tilly’s elbow, pulling her back just as a bolt of energy crackles through the space where she’d been about to step.

“Defensive spells,” Draven breathes. “Still active after all this time.”

I study the air, noting the subtle distortions. “The containment isn’t just in the chambers. They warded every possible escape route.”

Another energy bolt sizzles past, closer this time. The book in Tilly’s arms shakes in response.

“Can you see the pattern?” I ask her, noting how her eyes track the energy’s movement.

She nods slowly. “It’s like a web. The bolts aren’t random.” Her fingers trace patterns in the air. “There’s a rhythm to it. Like a heartbeat.”

“Great,” Luc mutters. “The murder tunnel has a pulse. That’s not creepy at all.”

“Wait,” Tilly says. She holds the book out in front of her like a shield. The symbols on its cover flare briefly, and the next energy bolt curves around us instead of through us.

“How did you?—”

“The book. It’s not just recordings. It’s a key.” She takes a careful step forward. The air ripples, but no bolts appear. “They left this for someone to find. Someone who could understand it.”

“Someone like you,” I say quietly, watching as she creates a safe path through the ancient defences.

We follow close behind her, the book’s strange heat keeping the worst of the defensive magick at bay. But I can feel something else building. It’s a pressure in the air that makes my teeth ache.

“We need to move faster,” I warn. “Whatever’s down here? It knows we’re here now.”

A low growl echoes through the tunnels. It sounds impossibly distant and yet right behind us at the same time.

“Was that—” Draven starts.

“Don’t,” Luc cuts him off. “Don’t even say it.”

Tilly’s hands are shaking, but her voice is steady. “Three more intersections. Then we’ll reach the ascension point.”

“How can you be sure?”

She meets my eyes, and hers are glowing with that inner fire again. “Because it’s showing me. And because something really wants us to not go that way.”

The growl comes again, closer now.

“Right then,” I say, summoning more light. “Let’s go see what it doesn’t want us to find.”