Page 41 of The Redd Key (Bone Coven #1)
L ight flickered behind my eyelids, and I scrunched them tighter. The dream I was having slipped away. The harder I tried to remember, the faster it escaped me.
The pale-yellow sunlight filtered through the tall seagrass, while gulls called overhead, blending with the soothing sound of lapping water. The joyful atmosphere of the bustling harbor was alive with tolling bells, men bantering, women humming, and little ones laughing as they ran. The scent of sea salt and warm bread hung on the cool breeze. My lips felt swollen from being kissed, and I smiled wide and hopeful. The cornsilk strands of my hair frayed from the braid that hung over my shoulder. At that moment, my heart felt full. Though, I couldn’t remember why. As whole as my heart was, it ached. The pain spread through my chest like an early springtime bloom.
Anguish continued to widen its berth while my eyelids continued to fight to stay shut. A quiet drip, drip, drip , met my ears the exact moment the scent of changing tides hit my senses. The pounding against my skull was a not-so-pleasant reminder that I was, in fact, not dead, and reality came rushing in.
I pressed the heel of my palm into my temple. “Ahh,” I hissed, the pain in my head matched the ache lingering in my heart; a dull, throbbing, sustaining discomfort.
The hard ground was covered in a thin layer of sand and gravel, which dug into the soles of my feet as I tried to stand. The room spun with my movement, so I gripped the wall beside me for support. It felt cold and damp, rough like blasted stone. Focusing my vision, I took ragged breaths while scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.
Dim candlelight cast an orange and yellow glow across the room. Mounds of objects—metal, wood, cloth, and all sorts of materials—sparkled under the flicking, small flames of pillar candles in sconces, as well as the hundreds of others hanging above me from an iron chandelier. The melted wax formed grotesque figures, adding to the eerie vibe of the space.
Furniture made from polished wood and adorned with intricate upholstery was stacked on top of one another. Chalices, goblets, and tankards made of warm gold, tarnished silver, and ivory were filled to the brim with all sorts of coins. Jewels and pearls spilled out of every possible crevice. Rolls of parchment and canvas were neatly arranged side by side on an enormous solid wood table.
In addition to the countless antiques and historical artifacts that spewed before me, a thick, almost tangible air blanketed the space. Aecor. It was present in this place. My mouth opened in utter disbelief.
Streams of glittering light bounced around the damp cavern. The walls were a mixture of bedrock and obsidian; I was beneath the island. The stones were slick with moisture, yet somehow, there wasn’t any aroma of mildew or any signs of damage to the endless artifacts. I held my hands up, slicing through the invisible force, and felt its intent. This place was enchanted to remain preserved. It must have been.
Besides the faint dripping I heard before, no sounds reached my ears. I slowly turned on the spot, my gaze moving from object to object. Forgotten panic crashed into me like an overdue tide during a full moon. Where the wall should have continued on behind me, an enormous iron grid and a heavy, rusty-hinged door were embedded into the rock. This was a cell.
Bile rose from my stomach, pooling in the back of my mouth. I tried to push outward with my magic only for it to ricochet back at me. The air felt too thick now, the walls too close. How long had I been unconscious? The flesh in my throat was raw from either the burning flames of the locket, my screams, or from dehydration—I wasn’t sure which. The aching in my chest began dissipating, and I reached up to rub my sternum to find the space where the locket usually nested was empty. The locket was gone.
“You’re awake.”
I whirled around to see the last person I expected.
“Cole.” His name fell from my lips like a burnt-out cigarette—bitter and poisonous. I glared at him as he sauntered along the path between the stone walls, just beyond the iron cell. “Why am I here? What do you want with me?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to answer the latter.
“What else am I supposed to do with a murderous little storm?” His voice was low, abrasive as the gravel beneath my feet. He stepped closer to the light. Cole’s black hair was longer than the last time I had seen it, curling past his collar. The hard edges of his jaw were as sharp as his grey, piercing gaze. His sight was set on me, and I never felt more like helpless prey. I secretly thanked the universe for the bars between the two of us. “I could not allow you to continue with your disastrous deviltry, now could I?” The question dripped from his lips slowly, and he leaned against the iron slats, looking down at me.
My captor towered over me, standing a foot taller, and his broad shoulders blocked out much of the candlelight, leaving me shrouded in shadows while the glow of the flames danced on his face. I couldn’t admit it to myself, but he was undeniably beautiful. Tough, not in any conventional sense. He was preternatural, like the severe edges of the bluffs artistically eroded by countless nor/easters, with pure starlight radiating from behind the stone facade. Chiseled by violence, smoothed by cool anguish, and infinite with celestial power. The lines etched on the planes of his face told a story of lifetimes beyond his years, and I found myself tracing them with my gaze as I absorbed the words he spoke from his arrogantly arched mouth. The half smile was knowing, and I wanted to smack it from his face.
“Disastrous?” I repeated. “ I haven’t done anything. Tragedy follows me like a shadow, haunting every footstep I have taken in my life.” I spat the words at him, rage roiling in my core. “My entire world is disastrous, but I am not the cause.” I straightened to squarely face Cole, stepping closer to the bars and challenging him. In my anger, tears stung in my eyes, and I forced myself not to cry. “Let me go,” I said quietly, without breaking his gaze.
“No.” He pushed away from the iron wall. “You didn’t say, please .”
My chest heaved as I barked out a laugh. I raised an eyebrow, “You’re serious?” I looked around, gesturing at the space where he had confined me. “You’re seriously keeping me locked away in a secret…vault? Full of, what is this? Your hidden treasure?” I smiled dryly; the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me. I live over my stash of treasures like Smaug. “So tell me,” I sneered at him, “are you more like Nick Cage or Jack Sparrow?” The sarcasm dripped from my words as I walked a few paces toward the pile of furniture. I turned back to Cole, who’s mouth arched on one side, eyebrows raised, in the most irritating way. “Your tastes are outdated .” I aimed to throw the insult, but my voice betrayed me.
He possessed a fortune here. Regardless of how all of it was acquired, this cell—this vault—resembled a time capsule of the 17th and 18th centuries, filled with British, French, Spanish, pre-revolutionary colonial artifacts scattered about. My eyes skimmed over the collection slower this time, noting the unique pieces. I opened my mouth to continue my rant, but my words faded away. I couldn’t bring myself to further insult the history that surrounded me.
“Those are movie characters, right?” Cole asked with a tilt of his head. A few moments passed when I realized his question wasn’t rhetorical. I nodded. “No, I’m not a movie character.” A deep chuckle rumbled low in his chest, and he lowered his gaze. “I’m much more,” he glanced up to me, “real.” His lips spread into a devilish grin, and his eyes gleamed like lightning in a grey sky. He slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out something cloaked in shadows.
Light bounced from the silver, and I recognized the locket.
“Give it—” I gasped.
“I will be holding onto this now that I know you cannot handle it.” His fingers intertwined with the chain until the pendant rested in his palm. He traced the intricate design gently, tenderly, and an unsuspected shadow fell over his brow. “It was a mistake to let you keep it.” His stare met mine.
“Keep it?” How did he even know that I had it? He never saw what was inside of the grenade from the wreck. He left so quickly after stopping the attack…from my drowning. “It’s mine.”
“That,” he tipped his chin, “I know is a lie.” His lashes lowered as he turned the pendant over and then back again. It wasn’t burning him.
“It’s not a lie.” I insisted, refusing to be called a liar. “I found it.” His eyes locked onto mine. “So give it back .” Each syllable pulsed with my rage. I stepped back, gripped the slats, and pulled myself closer to Cole, getting as close to face-to-face as I could.
He placed the locket back into his pocket, then grasped the slats just above my hands. His face was a breath from mine as he said, “Just like a hurricane.” His eyes searched mine, with the most curious expression. But then they darkened as they swept across my face, meticulously studying every part of me. I felt exposed. “Harmless once you’re near its heart.” He took a step back, and I stared after him, unsure of what he meant.
“You’re sick…this game you’re playing, it’s twisted.” I turned back toward the trove. “Fine, don’t give it back and keep me locked in here. I will destroy each and every piece you’ve curated, starting with the most priceless item.” I studied the stacks of framed artwork. I threw a look over my shoulder to see him scanning me . “Insufferable.”
“Yes, you are,” Cole said coolly. “And you won’t destroy anything,” he laughed . The sound made me jump. I opened my mouth to argue, but he was right. I would never be able to live with myself if I did anything to purposely damage this holy grail. I took a deep breath to buy some time to change my strategy.
“So what’s the point of keeping me here?” I asked calmly, trying to soften my face. I walked over to a settee in immaculate condition and sat down. The wood didn’t even creak under my weight. I watched Cole’s expression, which gave away nothing. “I won’t tell anyone you kept me here, Just let me go.” I held my hands in front of me in surrender. The position allowed me to feel the power that resided in this place. I needed to devise a plan, and this was my best option. The magic in the air had a sharp edge to it, and I felt for inconsistencies.
To my surprise, I felt the Aecor change as I angled my body toward Cole. Instead of pushing back like before, the magical energy moved toward my powers—exploring and caressing. A small gasp escaped my lips. Cole flexed his hand before putting it in the pocket with the necklace.
“You’re staying right here.” His face was stern, emotionless. Even so, I couldn’t quite remember how to breathe under his intense watch. His gaze was steel. As he turned to leave, I grabbed the closest thing to me—a thick book—and threw it at the cell door. “Ah, there she is, my treacherous Storm,” he said mockingly as he walked away into the darkness.