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Chapter Twenty Four

C aldrius wasn’t in his room when I searched it, and the embers in the hearth had long since gone cold.

The silence of the space gnawed at me, the faint scent of ash lingering in the air.

The bed remained neatly made, the curtains drawn, as if he hadn’t disturbed the room, as though he hadn’t been there for days.

My frustration swelled with each passing moment. I didn’t have time for this. Camilla needed my help as soon as possible, and Caldrius might be the only one who could give me the answers—or the means—necessary for me to save her.

I stormed through the echoing halls of the castle, my boots slapping against marble as I made my way toward Hyrax’s throne room.

The massive doors loomed ahead of me, their ancient wood carved with twisting vines and bones, yet when I pushed through them, the chamber beyond was empty.

My pulse quickened, impatience bleeding into something sharper.

Something frantic. I was running out of time.

“Where are you?” I whispered to the vast emptiness, my voice swallowed by the cavernous room.

Retracing my steps from when Caldrius had given me a tour, I hurried through the dim corridors, chasing the faint flicker of lantern light as it danced against the walls.

The castle felt different tonight—hollow.

The torches sputtered weakly, as though even their flames had grown tired.

The shadows were darker, and the marble walls felt colder.

I glanced toward the massive windows as I passed, where the starlight bled in silver streaks across the floors.

It was beautiful in an eerie, unsettling way. Too quiet. Too still.

When I finally stepped out of the castle, the chill of the night sank into my bones.

I broke into a run, skidding down the hillside toward the woods Caldrius had mentioned before—the cursed trees where the Undone roamed.

The world blurred around me as I sprinted, every thud of my boots punctuated by the pounding of my heart.

“Caldrius!” I called from the edge of the woods, my voice ringing into the abyss. A biting wind curled around me, slicing through the leathers I wore, carrying with it a damp, metallic scent that made my stomach twist.

Nothing.

No answer.

I swallowed, my throat dry. The trees stretched ahead of me, their dead limbs tangled like a nest of skeletal fingers clawing at the moonlight.

The air here was heavy, pressing against my chest, and the cold…

it wasn’t natural. It wasn’t the cold of winter or even of death—it was the kind of cold that seeped into your soul, something that whispered of misery and madness.

Nothing good waited for me in those woods

“Caldrius?” I called again, softer this time.

The silence that followed was absolute.

My stomach dropped, fear threading through me. I stepped forward on instinct, testing the ground beneath me as though it might shift beneath my feet.

The silence deepened.

I could feel it now—something watching me. A presence, oppressive and suffocating, curling like smoke in the shadows .

“Okay,” I muttered under my breath, my voice trembling despite my effort to sound steady. “You can do this.”

I took another step into the trees, then another.

The moment my foot crossed that invisible threshold into the wood, it was like the world closed in around me.

The sound of my own breathing became deafening but no footsteps echoed, no wind stirred the branches overhead.

It was like the forest itself swallowed every other sound, every breath, every trace of life.

I turned to glance behind me—only to find the path had vanished. The castle, the hillside, the world beyond these trees was… gone. All that remained was an endless, twisted forest. My pulse raced, panic flaring in my chest.

I gripped the dagger at my thigh, its cool weight grounding me.

I could do this. I had to do this.

Then I heard it.

A groan—low, wet, and guttural.

I spun sharply, the dagger raised, my heart hammering in my chest.

They emerged from the shadows like nightmares given form.

Two figures, crawling low to the ground, their limbs twisted unnaturally, like spiders.

Pale, white skin clung to their frames in torn, peeling patches, exposing raw, blackened flesh beneath.

Saliva dripped from their gaping mouths, pooling into the dirt as they hissed and snapped.

What little hair they had clung to their skulls in sick, oily strands.

But it was their eyes—neon green and glowing—that froze me in place.

I knew this kind of creature. I had seen it before.

The creature on my left—a girl, once—lunged for me, her bony fingers clawing at my ankles. I slammed my boot into her forehead, recoiling as her skin stuck to the leather.

“Oh, gross,” I muttered, my voice faint as nausea rose in my throat and I tried to kick the flesh off my shoe.

The second—a man who had been older, his face half-rotted—launched at me with a snarl, his skeletal hands latching onto my arm. Pain shot up to my shoulder, and I cried out, dropping my dagger.

“That’s enough!” I snarled, shoving my magic outward. The creature flew backward, slamming into a tree, but it didn’t stop. None of them stopped.

Two more emerged from the darkness, their groans rising into an unholy chorus. My dagger yanked itself back to my hand, and I spun, slicing into the neck of one as its claws tore through the leather at my side.

They just kept coming.

Then a blade sliced through one of the creatures as it lunged for me. It's head fell heavily and rolled in the dirt.

“What in all of creation are you doing?” Caldrius’ voice thundered as he appeared at my side, his face streaked with blood, his sword dripping black gore. He looked furious—wild, like the battle had ignited something ancient inside him.

“Oh, thank the Gods,” I gasped, stumbling backward as another creature charged.

“Behind you!”

I ducked just as his blade sliced through the air, decapitating the creature looming over me. Its blood splattered across my back, warm and acrid. My stomach twisted in sudden nausea.

“Oh, Gods!” I squealed. “That is disgusting !”

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” Caldrius barked, incredulous.

“I can’t kill them!” I cried, pointing at the severed head still blinking on the ground.

Caldrius shot me an exasperated look over his shoulder. “They’re already dead.”

“So what do we do?!”

“We start by not wandering into cursed woods in a foreign realm!” he snapped, swinging his blade to take down another Undone.

I rolled my eyes, jamming my dagger into the throat of one of the creatures. “Very helpful advice right now, thank you.”

“Come on,” he growled, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward.

“The woods don’t end!” I protested, trying to keep pace.

“They do if you’ve lived here for hundreds of years and know your way out.”

Fair point.

I let Caldrius lead the way, my breath coming in ragged gasps as we ran through the twisted landscape.

The trees seemed to stretch endlessly, but finally, the darkness thinned, and we broke free from the cursed wood, stumbling into the open realm beyond.

I staggered, clutching my side as I gasped for air.

Caldrius spun on me, his sword still dripping with black gore, his chest heaving from the fight. His eyes—dark, blazing, electric—locked onto mine before scanning over me. He gripped my shoulders tightly before spinning me to examine my backside for injuries.

"I'm fine!" I barked.

"You most certainly are not!" He released me, allowing me to turn back and face him. "You must be deranged to have gone in there alone and unprotected."

Not deranged. Desperate.

Similar enough, and yet entirely different.

“Explain what you were doing in there,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Now.”

My pulse still roared in my ears, nearly drowning out his words but I straightened, stilled my trembling muscles, and met his gaze head-on.

“Looking for you!” I shot back, still trying to catch my breath, trying to ignore the way his own chest heaved, not with exertion but with the lingering concern he seemed to have felt for me.

“ Why?” he roared.

I chewed on my lip, before placing my hands on my hips and forcing myself to stand to my full height. “I need your help.”

“You need my help?” He echoed, as if the words didn't seem to make sense, as if they were entirely illogical.

I swallowed as I nodded, a sudden breeze pulling my hair into the air.

“With what?” he snapped.

I hesitated, then finally said, “I want to steal the invisibility bangle from Hyrax.”

I t had taken far less convincing than I’d expected to get Caldrius to help me on this mission. Before I knew it, he’d grabbed my hand and pulled me back toward Hyrax’s castle, his pace quick and unrelenting, seemingly unfazed by the blood still drying on our fingers.

Caldrius moved with purpose, cutting through the winding rock halls with such determined strides that I struggled to keep up.

The castle twisted and turned around us like a maze, any hope of remembering the path evaporating with each step.

Finally, we stopped in front of a massive set of wooden doors—easily twenty feet high—carved with intricate depictions of Hyrax and what I assumed was his wife, Pasnia.

Caldrius glanced over his shoulder, scanning the shadows to ensure we were alone. He pressed his ear to the door, listening intently as the silence stretched on, thick and heavy. Then, satisfied, he pushed the grand door open with a grunt and gestured for me to follow him into Hyrax’s bedchamber.

“What will he do if he finds us in here?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Less talking, more looking,” he muttered, already rummaging through the drawers of a chest against the far wall.