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Chapter Thirty-Five

T he first thing she realized when she crossed was that this place had a different energy from before.

Previously, when they had entered this room, it had been quiet and calm despite the coldness.

It had the same atmosphere as a giant observatory, and while she did not want to linger, it was not overtly alarming.

Now, things had changed. There was a red haze surrounding them, and the quiet shadowy creatures that had been swimming around in the air before were crouched in different corners, hissing and growling on the far side of the room.

The crystal balls lay smashed on the floor, and the glass ceiling had angry cracks in it, the sky outside it stormy instead of full of stars like before.

What little furniture had been present lay on the floor, some in pieces.

“What happened here?” whispered Serena in horror.

Grim put his finger to his lips as he made a quick little sign that she knew was spirit magic.

He had told her previously that while he ordinarily couldn’t do much within the curse boundaries, there was a chance that he could wield magic in here that would cloak their presence such that no one would notice they were there unless they stood right in front of them.

Just before they were about to cross the room, Lore appeared at the top of the flight of floating black stairs in the middle of the room, and she stifled a gasp at his appearance.

His shadows, which were usually the color of midnight, were a bright scarlet red, and they burned like flames.

In his hands was a small gold instrument, which he hurled at the wall opposite to him.

It fell and shattered, making her flinch.

His eyes travelled around the room, and for one horrible moment it felt like they lingered where they stood.

However, a moment later, he turned away, and stalked back to wherever he came from.

Guess that told her what happened here. Lore was on an immortal rampage, and this room was the unfortunate consequence.

This was probably related to the fact that they were five fairytales in, and Lore was losing, but her gut told her it was more than that.

Something to do with the conversation that she had had with him when she had summoned him. Something to do with Arcana and Nerida.

And herself .

There was no time to ponder that, though, and so she followed Grim as he led her across the room to a narrow white corridor lined with pitch black doors.

Each one was engraved with something different, one had a dragon that breathed black smoke when you passed, there was one that looked like a starry sky, and one that shot out an arrow that had almost taken out her eye.

“There’s no way we can search every single room without being found out,” she whispered, troubled. For there were around fifty doors in the place.

Grim nodded, his forehead knotting as he pondered their next move.

“What if the engravings are a clue?” he asked.

She nodded slowly, pondering that. “That sounds plausible.”

“We should probably look for something heavily guarded then, like the door that shot out the arrow, or something related to magic.”

She was already walking down the corridor, looking at doors, and she heard Grim hurrying behind her, muttering something about bull-headed females who wandered off alone. She stopped in front of the second last door on the right and gave a small gasp.

“Oh,” she breathed softly.

Grim looked at the door she stood in front and frowned, not understanding.

“This one?” he asked. “It doesn’t really scream well guarded item .”

“I never would have guessed it,” she murmured, her eyes round with wonder.

“Guessed what?” asked Grim, a note of impatience entering his tone. “This door simply has cards on it.”

“Arcana, Grim…The door is Arcana.”

His eyes widened in shock, and he shook his head.

“Are you telling me that monster is sentimental? I doubt it. ”

She still couldn’t tear her eyes from the door.

“That’s the thing about love,” she whispered. “It can make monsters out of anyone.”

He tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. She seemed to have no luck either.

“Are you sure the wand is here?” he questioned.

Her chest seemed to warm at that very moment, and a ray of light emerged from it and shot straight through the door.

“The Crystal seems to think so,” she said dryly. “This thing seems to have a mind of its own. Some days it’s useless, on others it’s all out ready to help.”

They faced the door again, and she took a closer look at the doorknob. Right under it, was a flat gold plate with a complicated looking lock.

“There seems to be a key required,” she said, disappointment flooding her body.

Grim was still frowning at the door, his face a mask of concentration. He looked at her, and then at the door again.

“Fortune’s Touch,” he murmured under his breath.

She looked at him, her eyes wide as she grasped his meaning.

“Surely, that would not work,” she said.

He shrugged.

“He seemed sentimental enough to have a door in her name. There’s no telling if he made it so she could enter as well.

And if it is blood magic, then there’s no way to isolate it to just one person.

That’s what makes blood magic so tricky; it’s near impossible to ward it against the family of the one it’s linked to. ”

She looked at him and stuck out her palm.

Grimacing, he made his sword appear and was almost green as he hesitated over her palm.

She rolled her eyes and swiped her hand across the blade, letting out a hiss of pain when blood appeared.

Ignoring his cursing, she stuck her hand to the gold plate.

An agonizing two seconds later, the door cracked open, and she stepped in.

Her first thought was that she had entered the wrong place.

They stood in what looked like a small woodland glade.

Trees swayed around them in a gentle breeze, and flowers grew everywhere they looked.

A large weeping willow stood in the center—one that was positioned similarly to the oak tree in the woods back home, and the crystal once again emitted a ray of light toward it.

Lacing her hand with Grim’s, she approached it, pushing back the drooping tendrils.

And there it was, on a stump growing from the ground. The Spirit Wand. She approached it hesitantly and was about to place a hand on it, when Grim stopped her.

“There’s no telling if he’s put in some sort of warning spell to alert him if someone touches the wand. Besides, we only needed to know where it was for now.”

She drew her hand back and shuddered. It had escaped her notice before, but the wand pulsed with dark magic.

This was why Nerida had warned them against taking the wand before the curse had ended, it was practically bathed in malevolent energy.

There was no way this thing would create the Scepter of Wishes.

“We should go back now,” she said.

Once they made their way out of the room, Serena made sure to wipe the blood off the door plate.

There was no reason to alert Lore that they had come by.

And by the look of the room, she had no doubt it was a place he came by often.

Despite the apparently calm atmosphere, there was an undercurrent of longing and rage that she had seen in his gaze when she had worked out that he had been in love with Arcana .

The journey back home was mostly silent, both overcome by nervous tension and excitement at having figured out an important clue.

It was only when they had entered the cottage that she realized what time it was, and she had had barely a moment to catch her breath when a flash of green light whisked them away.