The monks marched Emily and Dorian to the tower at the end of the cliff and down its tightly spiraling staircase. Several times, Emily's feet slipped on the steps, and she was lifted up and upbraided by her captor, a powerfully built woman with jet-black hair and a severe expression.
Emily's failed teleportation, thwarted by a bucket of water, had lasted just long enough to burn up most of the clothes she had borrowed from Octavia. With the Stoneshell and Bronzeband also confiscated, she was naked but for a few frayed, heavily singed scraps of tunic left on her shoulders.
From the base of the tower, she was marched through Tiedavon Abbey, past solemn clusters of blue-robed monks. She was a prisoner now, an enemy, and the monks no longer averted their gazes from her bare skin but stared openly with expressions of contempt and barely concealed prurience. She felt every inch of her exposure in the cold night air and from the unyielding stares of the monks.
But it was the lack of her magical artifacts that made her feel truly naked, more so than she had even on the cliff or the beach. The uncomfortable jolting of her unrestrained breasts was made tenfold worse by the absence of the warm fire-summoning pendant above them.
Dorian, similarly bound, but still clad in a threadbare blue loincloth, was being frog-marched just behind her.
Near the ruins of the dome, there was an opening in the ground, below which a torchlit staircase descended. The way was cramped and narrow, and even Emily had to crouch to avoid hitting her head.
The air grew colder, damper, as they were led down the winding stairs, descending deeper into the abbey's foundations. This, then, was what had been meant by the lower cells. An underground prison.
Finally, they were shoved through heavy wooden doors into a section of narrow cells carved out of the rock. Thick, rust-pitted bars sealed each opening. A monk unlocked one creaking door, shoved Emily inside with bruising force, and slammed it shut, the heavy bolt thudding home. Moments later, she heard Dorian being thrown into an adjacent cell.
Emily landed hard on the cold, damp stone floor. The cell was tiny, barely large enough to pace three steps across. A trickle of slimy water ran down one wall, pooling in a corner. There was no bed, no light source save the dim torchlight filtering in from the corridor. The air was thick with the smell of salt and mildew.
She scrambled to the bars, gripping the cold iron. "Let us out!" she yelled, shaking them futilely. "You've got the wrong people! Richard tricked you!"
The powerful female monk glanced back at her with contempt. "Save your breath, thief. The Council will hear your case in the morning." The wooden door slammed shut behind her.
Silence descended, broken only by the omnipresent groan of the sea and Dorian's muffled cursing from the next cell. Emily slid down the bars, collapsing onto the floor, the stone rough and cold against her bare buttocks.
Helplessness washed over her, cold and absolute. The Stoneshell had been taken once more. The warm, constant presence against her chest, source of fire and strength, was missing. She touched the empty space where it had lain, feeling only her own skin, cold and clammy.
Her left ankle tingled, feeling unusually naked. The Bronzeband was back in Richard's possession. The image of his triumphant wink burned behind her eyelids. He hadn't even needed to fight them—he'd orchestrated their downfall perfectly, using their own actions and the monks' hostility and desperation against them. He now had power over stone once more, along with his resonance magic, and the trust and favor of the monks of Tiedavon. He was more dangerous than ever. And it had all been enabled by a moment of pity from Emily.
And then there was Aria. Bromberht. Jivaro. All the others. Suddenly struck motionless in the middle of whatever they were doing, involuntarily decorating the halls and courtyards of Paja Abbey. But it wasn't the first time—what must they think of her, always losing control of the artifact destiny had charged her to defend? And they would have a lot of time to think now, trapped as they were. Guilt coiled tight in her stomach, sharp and sickening.
"Dorian?" Emily called out, her voice raspy.
"I'm here," his voice came back, rough with anger, but surprisingly close. "Are you alright?"
"No," Emily whispered honestly. "Are you?"
A harsh laugh echoed from his cell. "Silly question. I'm sorry I asked."
"He played us," Emily said, her frustration boiling over. "He stole the Azure Essence and then gave it back, painting himself as the hero and us as villains. And now he's more powerful than ever, and it's all my fault."
"I wonder if he saw my preparations," Dorian said. "Perhaps he spied us from the beginning, listened in, made a plan that meant he wouldn't have to fight."
Emily pounded a fist against the stone floor, ignoring the sting. "How could they be so blind? Kastor saw us arrive! He knew we hadn't had time to steal anything!"
"They wanted the Essence back and someone to blame, an easy story," Dorian said wearily. "We fit the bill perfectly. Outsiders with powerful artifacts, cause a scene upon arrival, demand access to their most precious resource... Richard just gave them the narrative they were already leaning towards. And they already trusted him. He told you that."
They fell silent again, the weight of their situation pressing down on them. The cold seeped into Emily's bones and her stomach growled with hunger. She hugged herself for warmth, hands rubbing against the fraying remnants of her tunic, still clinging uselessly to her shoulders.
"Aria..." Emily murmured. "When I'm not wearing the Stoneshell, she..."
"She froze again," Dorian finished grimly. "I remember. She and the other statues."
"We have to get out of here, Dorian," Emily said fiercely, pushing herself up from the floor. She peered through the bars into the dim corridor. Empty for now. "We have to get the Stoneshell back. And the Azure Essence. Somehow. I know that sounds crazy."
"Agreed," Dorian's voice was tight. "Easier said than done, though."
"You still have some of that cloth, right?" Emily asked. "With the blue pigment that you said helped you escape from the monks last time? Can't you use that?" She blushed slightly at the implication.
"It's no use," Dorian replied. "These walls are solid rock and the bars solid iron. That's what holds us here, not a containment spell. My art works against magic, not material." There was a loud clanging sound as Dorian struck one of the bars at the front of his cell. "And even if we get out of here, we still have to find where the monks have hidden your artifacts. To say nothing of our initial mission of getting the Azure Essence."
Emily leaned her forehead against the cold bars, feeling a wave of despair threaten to overwhelm her. Richard had won so completely. They had nothing.
No, not nothing. They had each other, their wits, and the truth. That had served Emily well before.
"Morning," she repeated the monk's word. "The Council hears the case in the morning. That gives us... six, maybe eight hours?"
"That's not much time to break out of an underground prison. Especially without any magic," Dorian pointed out dryly.
"We'll figure something out," Emily insisted, though her voice lacked conviction even to her own ears. "We have to."
She sank back down to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest for warmth, trying desperately to think, to find some sliver of hope, some cunning plan that they could use to escape, to retrieve the Stoneshell, to acquire the Azure Essence that they had come here for in the first place.
Hours crawled by in the cold, damp darkness. Emily traced patterns on the floor with her finger, trying to remember the winding route she had been led down to reach this cell. She would need it when they escaped. Which they would, just as soon as she and Dorian came up with a plan.
They had tried making a noise to lure a monk down to the dungeon and searched repeatedly for loose stones in the wall behind their cells. But it had been to no avail. In the cell beside hers, Dorian was silent but for the faint, rhythmic tap of his fingers against the stone wall, a sign that his mind was still hard at work.
Emily had tried to get some sleep but closed her eyes only to be haunted by images of Aria frozen mid-gesture, and Richard's gloating face.
The first hint of dawn wasn't light, but the distant clang of a bell, and the faint murmur of voices and shuffling footsteps from higher levels. The Council would convene soon. Perhaps they could reason with them, expose Richard's lies. But even if they could, what chance did they now have of receiving any of the Azure Essence? They would be lucky to escape with their lives, let alone a portion of the monks' prized Azure Sphere, the very thing they were accused of stealing.
The wooden door to the prison creaked open, and heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, stopping directly outside Emily's cell. They did not belong to Kastor or any of the other monks. Emily, in a huddle facing the wall, looked over her shoulder to see Richard's smirking face.
Richard was dressed in fine new clothes, from his shiny leather boots to his ruffled shirt, under a brand new ship captain's coat, violin strapped to his back. The Bronzeband was not visible, but Emily knew it must be under his sleeve, from the way he produced playful waves in the rock around his feet. She glared at him for a few seconds before turning back to the wall.
"This is just like old times!" Richard announced cheerfully. He leaned closer into the bars, his eyes lingering on Emily's mostly bare back. "A bit drafty, isn't it? Perhaps I could use my... recovered artifact... to seal up some of those cracks for you."
In the adjacent cell, Dorian made a low growling noise.
"I want nothing from you," Emily said darkly, practically spitting venom with her words.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," said Richard. "Only a fool spurns an offer without hearing it first. And you, Emily, are no fool."
"Leave her," snarled Dorian.
Richard cast a withering glance at the adjacent cell. "Shut up, boy. Do not interfere in business that does not concern you."
An arm shot out between the bars of Dorian's cell and grabbed at Richard's sleeve, it was slightly too far to reach. Richard chuckled darkly and turned his attention to Dorian. There was a loud crack as part of the stonework of the cell wall dislodged, and then a pained cry. The arm slumped down.
"Dorian!" Emily shouted, rushing to the bars of her cell to see what had happened.
"He's fine," Richard said, giving Dorian's hand a vicious kick. "But if he interferes again, he won't be."
From the other cell, Dorian could only groan in pain.
"Now, onto business," Richard said, fixing eye contact with Emily. "As you know, I'm really quite fond of you, dear Emily. And I've seen what Tiedavon does to thieves. I'd just hate for that terrible fate to befall you. So, I've come to free you."
Emily's eyes widened.
"Now you might ask, and I'm sure you will ask, as we both know you're an intelligent girl... you might ask what I expect in exchange. There's no use pretending I do this out of the kindness of my heart... after all, you did try to cheat me on the clifftop. Don't think I've forgotten that."
Emily looked away briefly, her posture shrinking. She didn't think of herself as a cheat, but he wasn't wrong. It was difficult not to feel shame, standing behind iron bars, essentially naked, before a cunning and powerful man like Richard, and he knew it.
"All I want is the same thing I asked for on the Sea Serpent—your hand," Richard continued, making a show of kneeling down on one knee. "Don't look so surprised! I'm sure we can work out our differences. All lovers have their quarrels, you know." He cast a dirty glance at Dorian's cell. "From the way your friend had to hide behind that bush, playing with sticks, no magic of his own to speak of, I take it that the position of Stoneshell Bearer's husband has not yet been filled."
Emily's face turned fully red and she shrank down into a fetal position. In the other cell, Dorian appeared to be having a coughing fit.
"There's the small matter of recovering the Stoneshell, of course, but I don't think that will be a problem. Just say yes, and I'll fetch it at once. These monks will trust me with anything. At least until I break out the prisoner they believe to be responsible for the greatest threat to their order in millennia. But I'm willing to sacrifice that for you, dear Emily. You have only to say the word."
Emily remained curled tight, her face pressed against her knees, the rough stone cold beneath her skin. Richard's words hung in the air. Somehow the proposal felt even more shockingly inappropriate the second time. She had no doubt of his intentions—he wanted to possess her, but more than that, to possess the Stoneshell through her.
Dorian's coughing subsided into ragged breaths. Emily could picture him slumped against the wall, rubbing his head, listening helplessly. The thought fueled a resurgence of defiance, burning through the shame that Richard had so expertly kindled.
Slowly, deliberately, Emily uncurled herself. She pushed her tangled hair back from her face and lifted her chin, meeting Richard’s expectant, smiling gaze through the bars. Her blush had faded, replaced by a cold, hard glare. She kept her knees up, holding a position of dignity as well as relative modesty, focusing on her anger to the exclusion of other emotions.
"You think," she began, her voice low and trembling, "after you manipulated the monks, attacked Dorian, stole back the Bronzeband I won from you fairly... you think that after everything, the answer to anything you ask would be 'yes'?"
Richard's smile faltered slightly, replaced by a look of mild surprise, then sourness. "Ah, Emily. Still so fiery, even in reduced circumstances. It's one of the many things I admire about you. But think rationally for a moment, my dear. What other options do you have?" He gestured expansively around her tiny, miserable cell. "Wait for the Council? You heard the names Kastor called you. They'll feed you to the giant crabs, or chain you to a rock at low tide as an offering. And I certainly won't be arguing your case."
Emily involuntarily sucked in a breath, and Richard's smile widened. He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Instead of all that, why not accept my generous offer? Compromise those delicate sensibilities, just a little. In return? Freedom. The Stoneshell returned to your lovely neck. Perhaps... perhaps I could even arrange a vial of Azure Essence. Just like we agreed before."
"Don't listen to him!" Dorian shouted from the other cell. His voice was strained, tight with pain, but clear. "He's no good! Don't even consider it!"
Richard shot a venomous look towards Dorian's cell but didn't move to strike him again. "Your 'friend' offers empty defiance, bravado without backing," Richard sneered, turning back to Emily. "I offer a solution. I heard you telling Kastor all about your little mission on the clifftop. Well, the solstice approaches. Your stone friends remain frozen, and you can't help them from inside that cell. Time is running out. Say yes. Let me help you."
The way he had twisted the situation, framing himself as her only hope even as he had been the cause of her plight sickened Emily. How much of this had he planned in advance?
But her desperation was real. She had less than two weeks before the summer solstice, but that would matter little if she couldn't get the Azure Essence, or if the monks carried out what Richard had threatened. She thought of Aria, frozen in place, probably hunched over a book in her Paja Abbey chamber.
Could she pretend? Could she feign agreement, trick him somehow, use him to get free and retrieve the Stoneshell back? The thought felt slimy, treacherous. The last time she'd tried to get one over on Richard... well, she'd ended up here. Could she really win at his game?
"I need..." Emily began, stalling, forcing the words out. "I need time. To think."
Richard studied her face, his eyes shrewd, assessing her hesitation. He seemed to weigh her request. Finally, he gave a small, magnanimous shrug. "Very well. But time is limited." He straightened up, adjusting the fine cuffs of his shirt. "The Council will convene soon after dawn. I suggest you have your answer for me before then. I shall return soon."
He paused, letting his gaze drift deliberately over Emily's huddled form one last time before turning away. "Do try to stay warm, dearest," he added with mock solicitude.
As Richard walked away from the cells, a pebble struck him in the back of the head. "Ah!" he cried, flinching, then freezing. A second pebble followed. He lifted his right hand, and the projectile stopped in midair and dropped harmlessly to the floor.
Richard turned, his face red with hatred. Emily's eyes followed in horror as he stomped towards Dorian's cell. "Throw stones at me, will you! I'll teach you to throw stones!"
"No! Stop!" Emily cried.
But Richard did not seem to hear her. As he turned to face Dorian through the bars, a third pebble struck him between the eyes.
Richard's hands flexed, and the stone prison around them began to tremble. "Insolent dog! That will be the last stone you ever throw!" he shouted, veins bulging in his forehead as he brought the full power of his magic to bear.
"Don't! Please don't!" Emily screamed. "Dorian!"
As the tremors heightened, an image of black moss clinging to metal flashed through Emily's mind. She thought of the Deep Realm and of Shimmerwood. Nightmoss. The word surfaced, sharp and clear for an instant, just as the tremor reached its crescendo.
Emily braced herself for a crash, for a horrible cry of pain from Dorian's cell, but neither sound came. The earth settled, and it was Richard whose scream pierced the air. He stumbled back two steps, his face contorted by sudden agony. Dark tendrils burst from the sleeve of his coat—the sleeve that held the Bronzeband.
"What... what is this?!" Richard choked out, clutching his arm.
Cracks spiderwebbed out from beneath Richard's feet and then found direction, shooting towards the wall between Emily and Dorian's cells. Loud cracks were followed by a deafening roar as the wall collapsed, showering both cells with dust and rubble.
"Aaaghhh!" Richard screamed. Black tendrils escaped from the collar of his shirt, traveling up his neck. Smoke rose from where the tendrils touched his flesh, and it seemed to wither and crack. His violin clattered to the floor. He staggered backward, clawing uselessly at his arm—at the Bronzeband—which was now visible under the destroyed sleeve of his coat.
The prison was shaken by further tremors. The torches died, plunging the immediate area into near-total darkness—a relief, as Richard's screams only grew louder.
Emily buried her face in her knees as dust rained around her, tears pricking at her eyes. An echoing clang rang out as the bars of her cell crashed down down into the corridor, followed by a series of lesser impacts as debris rained from the ceiling. Richard stopped screaming, and the tremors subsided.
When all was still, Emily looked up from her knees. Her way out was clear. "Dorian?" she coughed, dusting her legs as she pushed herself up.
"Here!" Dorian's voice came from just beyond the collapsed wall. He scrambled over the jagged pile of stone separating their cells, landing beside her. "Are you hit?"
"No, just a little buried." Emily dusted off an arm and peered out of her cell at where Richard had stood.
In the gloom, the sight was brief but horrifying. Where Richard had been, only a rapidly crumbling, desiccated husk remained, collapsing in on itself like ancient parchment touched by flame. Black tendrils still writhed around him. Emily staggered back, nausea churning in her stomach.
"Nightmoss," Dorian said in an awed whisper, staring at the rapidly vanishing remains. "Just like in the Deep Realm."
Nightmoss. There was that word again. It triggered something in Emily's memory, a vague sense of warmth and belonging. Her thoughts felt slippery, hard to grasp. There was something important she needed to tell Dorian, something that seemed to run from her conscious mind.
"Oi! What was that noise?" A shout echoed from the direction of the heavy wooden door leading out of the cell block. "Check the prisoners! Something's happened!" Heavy, booted footsteps pounded, getting closer fast.
Panic surged in Emily's chest. "They're coming!" she hissed.
Dorian reacted instantly. While Emily scrambled towards the main exit door at the end of the short corridor, Dorian darted towards the fading horror on the floor. With quick, decisive movements, he snatched the intact violin from beside the husk, grabbed the Bronzeband as the last of the moss devoured Richard's arm, and ripped Richard's trousers and ruffled shirt from his rapidly disintegrating body.
"The door's stuck!" Emily grunted, throwing her shoulder against the heavy wood. It didn't budge. Richard's final tremor must have warped the frame, lodging it in place.
"You'll need this!" Dorian shouted, waving the Bronzeband. "Lift your foot!"
Emily automatically thrust a calf out behind herself. Cool metal soon encased her ankle once more.
"Take this too!" Dorian said, shoving the ruffled shirt into Emily's hands. It was mostly intact, but missing one of its sleeves. He had stepped into Richard's trousers, though they were clearly too short, ending partway down his ankles.
"This way's collapsed, go around!" shouted a voice, too close for comfort.
"They're almost here!" Emily whispered frantically. Momentarily ignoring the shirt, she pressed her palm flat against the stone wall beside the jammed door. Focusing past the panic, picturing the rock yielding, she poured her will into the Bronzeband. Her ankle tingled, itching slightly. The stone groaned softly.
"Try now!" she urged.
Dorian slammed his shoulder into the door again. It scraped outwards, grinding against unseen debris on the other side, opening just enough from them to squeeze through.
"Go!" Dorian pushed Emily through the gap, then squeezed after her, pulling the groaning door partially shut behind them, though it wouldn't close properly. They were in the main passage, with the spiral stairs just ahead. Fresh rubble littered the floor and the air was thick with dust.
A shout echoed from the other end of the cell block. "The cells are empty! They've escaped!"
Emily quickly pulled the large, soft shirt over her head. It came down to her thigh, the single remaining sleeve ridiculously puffy.
"Right. Let's go fetch the Stoneshell. I saw Kastor enter one of the buildings near the top of these stairs. That's the first place we should look. Let's move before they figure out which way we went."
A low rumbling sound echoed from above, followed by distant, panicked shouting. The tremors had clearly caused further damage topside, adding to the general chaos.
Keeping low and close to the walls, they ran towards the spiral staircase, moving as quickly and quietly as possible through the debris-strewn passage. The sounds of alarm from above were growing louder—frantic bells, shouted orders, the heavy tread of many running feet. The monks of Tiedavon Abbey were fully awake, and they were looking for two prisoners.
With Dorian in front of her, Emily noticed a violin slung over his back. "Really using every part of the animal, eh?"
Dorian cast her a confused glance, clearly unaware of the expression. "Stay alert," he whispered. "The monks will be after us."
They began the ascent, moving as quietly as possible. The air grew slightly warmer, less damp, but the sounds of alarm from above grew louder—bells ringing frantically, voices shouting orders, the heavy tread of running feet. Tiedavon Abbey was on high alert.
Reaching the top of the stairs, they peered cautiously out into the main courtyard. Monks were running everywhere, some heading towards the dome, now partially rebuilt, others organizing search parties, their faces grim, staffs held ready. The sky was growing paler as the sun crept towards dawn.
Darting from the exposed entrance to the underground prison, Emily pressed herself flat against the cool sandstone wall of the nearest building. Dorian followed, his movements quick and silent.
The courtyard was a maelstrom of organized panic. Monks ran with purpose, shouting instructions and carrying injured brethren on makeshift stretchers, while others attempted to shore up cracked walls near the dome. The air was thick with dust and the frantic clang of alarm bells.
"Those tremors did more damage than I thought," Dorian whispered.
"It's Richard's fault," Emily replied, mostly to herself.
"I saw Kastor go inside that building," Dorian said, pointing at a small, squat sandstone structure a few hundred yards away. "Let's hope the Stoneshell's there. Is there... is there any way you can tell?"
Emily shook her head. "Not without Talyndra's map magic."
"Then we'll do trial and error," Dorian replied, beckoning her forward.
They moved in a low crouch, using overturned benches and piles of rubble as cover. Twice, they had to freeze behind thick pillars as groups of monks hurried past, eyes scanning for trouble.
Many of the monks wore bandages over their eyes, like the ones they'd encountered on the cliff. Occasionally they would stop and listen, tilting their heads to the side. Emily hardly dared to breathe, for fear they'd hear it.
Near the entrance of the building Kastor had entered, they huddled behind a large stone planter overflowing with dead, salty foliage. A tense argument was taking place nearby between two senior-looking monks.
"...unacceptable breach!" one was saying, voice tight with anger. "The reliquary seals held, but the structural damage...! And all this, during the dome's reconstitution!"
"Calm yourself, brother," said the other.
"This is the work of powerful magic. I told Kastor not to hide the prisoners' artifacts in his personal chamber!" He gesticulated wildly at the building behind him.
"I'll remind you that Brother Kastor is our Tidewarden," the other replied defensively. "Everything he does is for the betterment of our order. With the dome still reconstituting, we have a scarcity of secure places for such a powerful artifacts."
"Reckless!" the first monk snapped, before they were interrupted by another shouting orders nearby and moved off.
Emily and Dorian exchanged a look. That made things easier.
They slipped through the building's entrance just as another tremor shook the ground—weaker this time, likely an aftershock, but enough to send fresh dust raining down and renew the cries of alarm, covering their movement. Richard's dying echo, Emily thought.
The corridor beyond was quieter, less damaged, but narrow and echoing. Their bare feet padded softly on the stone floor.
A few monks hurried through the building, carrying scrolls or tools. Emily and Dorian pressed themselves into alcoves, holding their breath until the footsteps receded. Around one corner, they found their way blocked by a heavy, iron-banded wooden door.
Dorian tried the handle. It was firmly shut. He examined it closely. "No obvious magical wards," he whispered, running his fingers over the thick metal lock plate. He rapped his knuckles against the metal. "Solid craftsmanship." He put his shoulder to it, grunting softly. It didn't budge.
Emily stepped forward, placing her hand flat against the stone wall beside the doorframe. Concentrating, she pictured the stone around the hinges, and imagined it warping outward, loosening. Her ankle tingled.
"Try now," she whispered.
Dorian pushed again. This time, there was a faint creak, a slight give. He threw his weight against it more firmly, and with a low groan of stressed wood, the door scraped inwards just enough for them to squeeze through. They slipped inside, pulling it shut behind them, plunging them into near darkness.
Emily attempted to summon a light but was quickly reminded of the Stoneshell's absence. As their eyes adjusted to the low light, Dorian approached an ornate door at the far end of the passage, which stood slightly ajar. "The Tidewarden's symbol is carved on this door," Dorian said, cautiously pushing it open. "I remember it from the back of his robe."
Kastor's chamber was fittingly austere. Maps of coastlines and tidal charts covered one wall. A solid wooden desk stood against another, clear except for an inkwell and quill. Bookshelves lined a third wall, filled with heavy, leather-bound volumes. Dawn light streamed in from a single, high window. The room smelled faintly of sea salt and old paper. And it was empty. Kastor was clearly still coordinating the crisis outside.
Emily felt a familiar warmth rise in her chest, and she knew the Stoneshell was nearby. Somewhere.
Her eyes scanned the room. The desk? The bookshelves? Her gaze fell on a section of the stone wall opposite the desk. Apart from being unadorned by charts or maps, it looked subtly different from the rest, the mortar lines less distinct, as if it were a single, smooth panel. She approached it, placing her hand flat against the cold stone. As she did so, the Bronzeband started to slowly rotate around her ankle, just like it had when she'd fallen into the Deep Realm. The bond between artifacts had been reestablished.
"Dorian," she whispered, her voice sharp with excitement. "It's in here!"
After making sure the door to the chamber was securely bolted, Dorian came closer and examined the panel. "A hidden compartment. Makes sense." He ran his fingers along the edges, searching for a seam, a hidden switch. Nothing. "Probably magically sealed, awaiting Kastor's touch or command."
"Maybe it's Face ID," said Emily.
Dorian gave her another puzzled glance. "I haven't heard of that one. Regardless, these things are never very difficult to break, despite what the mages claim." He surveyed the room, grabbing the quill and parchment from Kastor's desk. Holding the parchment against the panel, he scrawled a series of complicated ruins across it, then pronounced a rapid sequence of sounds that Emily was pretty sure she'd never heard a human mouth make before, finishing off with a high-pitched, sustained whistle.
A low click echoed in the quiet room, and a thin seam appeared around the edges of the panel. Dorian grinned at Emily, tearing up the parchment.
It took their combined strength to pull the heavy stone panel outwards, revealing a small, velvet-lined niche within the wall.
And there it lay. The Stoneshell, resting on the dark velvet, looking for all the world like a slightly ugly necklace.
The moment Emily's skin touched the smooth, shell-like surface, a jolt shot through her, flooding her whole body with warmth. With a sigh of profound relief, she lifted the necklace and secured it around her neck, slipping the pendant under her shirt. The familiar weight settled into place just above her breasts and everything felt right again. "Sorry Aria," she whispered, hoping this would be the last time she was separated from the Stoneshell.
"Okay," she breathed, turning to Dorian. "Got it. Now... the Essence."
Dorian nodded, his face tense but relieved. "I think it's in the dome. There's no way they could have rebuilt it that fast without extraordinarily potent magic."
The distinct sound of heavy, purposeful footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. Someone was approaching Kastor's chamber! They scrambled to push the heavy stone panel back into place, hoping it looked undisturbed. The footsteps stopped right outside the door. A hand rattled the handle. They were trapped.
"Open up! Tidewarden's orders!" a rough voice bellowed.
The bolt would buy them some time, but it wouldn't hold for long. Emily and Dorian glanced around frantically.
"Window?" Emily mouthed silently, pointing towards the chamber's single narrow window, high in the wall.
Dorian nodded curtly. It was their only way out. As the pounding on the door intensified, Emily clambered onto Dorian's back, reaching the window and unlatching it. Cool, damp air rushed in as she slid it open.
"Go!" Dorian urged, lifting her off his shoulders and up through the window.
Emily scrambled through the window and dropped out the other side, oversized shirt billowing around her. Leading with one shoulder, she rolled as she hit the dusty ground, elegantly ending in a standing position, tugging at the hem of her shirt.
With a powerful but not very graceful leap, Dorian followed, thudding down on both feet. Inside, the chamber door splintered inwards with a loud crash.
Shouts erupted from inside. "The window!" All around, monks stopped what they were doing and looked in Emily and Dorian's direction.
"Move!" Dorian yelled, grabbing Emily's hand.
"Where?!" Emily cried.
Dorian pointed at the half-reconstructed dome in the center of the abbey.
They raced down the path between abbey buildings, heedless of stealth now that the monks had spotted them. Emily, restored now to full power, flung fireballs at any who got too close. But there were more and more monks as they got closer to the dome, and Emily found soon found herself ducking and weaving more than throwing fireballs.
Three monks blocked their path to the unfinished dome entrance. Grimacing, Emily slammed her bare foot down, kicking up a cloud of dust. The cobblestones beneath the approaching monks buckled violently, throwing them off balance. They sprinted through it, bursting through the entrance into the unfinished dome.
There were even more monks inside, working amidst the construction site that was the dome. Some directed floating stones with gestures, while others chanted spells. The ground was littered with debris, but the stone pillars and walkways Emily remembered from the last time she'd been inside were slowly reforming all around them, growing almost organically.
In the very center of the vast, open space, hanging suspended in the air, perhaps thirty feet above the floor, was the Azure Sphere. It wasn't solid mass, but a fluctuating storm of brilliant blue energy, pulsing and swirling, slowly growing, producing a wind that whipped at Emily's hair. Large blocks of sandstone swirled around it before slotting into place at the ends of walkways and in the dome's roof. The Azure Essence was rebuilding the dome.
But there was no time to stare at it, as the angry shouts of the monks around them soon made apparent.
"Guess we know where we're going!" Dorian shouted, grabbing Emily's hand and leading her towards the nearest staircase not yet blocked by blue robes.
Ignoring the questionable wisdom of climbing up a mostly unfinished structure, Emily and Dorian mounted the stairs and raced upwards. At the top of the stairs, they followed a walkway to the next set of stairs, climbing higher and higher, toward the Azure Sphere.
The structure was unstable and unfinished, giant blocks of sandstone still being rearranged. Monks pursued them from below but also appeared from alcoves and obscure corners of the walkways. Emily shot fireballs and knocked chunks of walkway off behind them, but the stone would often reform on its own, sometimes even creating shortcuts for the monks to gain on them faster.
They were level with the Sphere now, on a wide stone platform, but still too far to reach it. Another staircase continued higher, and a temporary, rickety-looking wooden walkway extended to the side of the dome, away from Azure Sphere. Monks' footsteps thundered up the staircase, hot on their heels.
Emily clutched her knees, gasping for breath. She flung a fireball at the monks approaching them, but it went wide, missing them completely and dissipating against a sandstone wall.
Dorian had drawn Richard's violin from his back. "Get higher!" he shouted, placing the bow on the strings. "I'll hold them off." Dorian shoved her towards the stairs, placing his body between her and the rapidly approaching monks. "Keep going towards the Sphere!"
Emily didn't hesitate, scrambling up the next flight of stairs alone. Once she was on the higher platform, she used the Bronzeband to crack and crumble two steps in the middle, and the whole staircase collapsed in a pile of rubble. Below, she heard the screeching of a badly played violin. A couple of blindfolded monks on the lower platform clutched their ears in agony. Strumming madly, Dorian drew some of the monks away, down a stone walkway going in the opposite direction from the Sphere. The rest glared up at Emily, then scrambled to find another way up.
Heart hammering, Emily pushed forwards, upwards and inwards, towards the Sphere. The walkways were thin here, and without railings, and the stairs steep and narrow. She advanced cautiously, occasionally using the Bronzeband to secure her footing.
Finally, she emerged onto an unfinished walkway that stopped just short of the dead center of the dome. The Sphere hung directly below her now, a churning vortex of impossible blue.
Footsteps pounded on the stairs behind her. In her caution, she had allowed the monks to gain on her. They were closing in fast. There was nowhere left to run.
The unfinished walkway offered no escape but the way she'd come, blocked by monks. Below, the mesmerizing, terrifying Sphere pulsed, a swirling vortex of impossible blue energy. But below that, on a walkway not far from the floor, she saw Dorian! He was limping slightly but had somehow shaken off the monks who were following him. She watched as he staggered into the open space almost directly beneath the Sphere, his head tilted back, searching for her.
"Dorian!" she shouted. "I'm here!"
A smile broke out across his tired face as they made eye contact.
The footsteps behind her were getting closer. Two monks had ascended the staircase and were now on the other end of the walkway, staring directly at her.
"No further, desecrater!" one shouted. "Surrender now!"
An idea occurred to Emily. It was completely insane, but she didn't have any other choice. She needed a vial of Azure Essence for the ritual, that's what Althea had said. But where to get a vial? Moreover, how to be sure it wouldn't be destroyed by her teleportation, just like clothing and other mundane items always were? Living beings could teleport through Stoneshell fire, as could magical items, including the ritual ingredients. Nothing else survived.
An image of glowing Azure Essence sticking to Richard's fingers on the clifftop flashed through her mind, as did his futile effort to wipe it off with the sleeve of his robe. She glanced down at the swirling sphere. She would have one chance at this, and she had to make it count. Anything she could do to tip the odds in her favor, however slightly, was worth it.
With that in mind, she threw off Richard's oversized shirt, sending the silky fabric up into the air and letting it drop into the vast emptiness below. She heard the monks behind her stop and gasp, but distracting them wasn't the point. Her eyes locked on Dorian's and she shouted, "Catch!"
Without a backward glance at her pursuers, Emily leaped from the walkway.
She plunged downwards, the wind whistling past her ears. The swirling surface of the Azure Sphere filled her vision.
There was a moment of intense cold as she hit the sphere, and time seemed to stop. She was surrounded by brilliant, swirling blue waves, and her skin tingled all over. The Essence clung to her skin, coating her from head to foot in a thick, viscous layer. A sharp pain pricked at her ankle.
Then, gravity reasserted itself. She passed through the bottom edge of the Sphere, once more falling through the open air of the dome, now dripping, glowing, coated head-to-toe in swirling azure light.
She was still falling, hurtling towards the distant floor. As she fell, she blasted jets of fire from her palms and the soles of her feet, marginally slowing her descent.
Below, Dorian stood ready, his face turned upwards, tracking her descent. His arms were braced, his stance wide despite his injured leg. It looked impossible. The height, the speed...
Time seemed to slow. She saw the concentration on Dorian's face, the strain in his arms as he reached for her.
Emily landed in Dorian's arms with a solid thump. The impact knocked the wind from both their lungs, sending them staggering backward. Dorian groaned in pain as his injured leg buckled, but he held fast to her, his arms locked around her slippery, glowing form. Somehow, miraculously, he kept his footing.
"Gotcha," Dorian choked out, grinning weakly.
Emily gasped, refilling her lungs, and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her Essence-coated body against his bare torso.
The shouts of the monks echoed from above and across the dome floor as they realized what had happened. Waves of blue robes rushed at them from all sides. This time, there was definitely no escape. But there didn't need to be.
"Paja Abbey!" Emily shouted, summoning up an all-consuming fire.
Instantly, the familiar, all-consuming heat roared to life. Flames erupted around them, around the clinging layer of Azure Essence, around Emily and Dorian locked in their desperate embrace. The fire flashed white-hot, causing the monks who were not already blind to shield their eyes from its brilliance. Then they were gone from Tiedavon Abbey, leaving only a blast radius of ash on the stone walkway.
Mission accomplished. Barely.
The world reformed in a blast of displaced air and residual heat. Emily found herself clasped tightly in Dorian's arms, blinking against the familiar, steady glow of the Stoneshell fire in Paja Abbey's designated chamber. The transition was jarring, from the frantic chaos of the half-formed dome and the icy grip of the Azure Essence to the warmth and calm of this room.
"Well," came a bright, amused voice. "Now that's an entrance!"
Emily looked up, still slightly dazed. Aria and Talyndra were seated at a sturdy wooden table piled high with books and scrolls, looking up from their studies with wide, beaming smiles. Sometime in the past few days, the simple chamber had been transformed. Bookshelves now lined every wall except the one holding the fireplace, crammed with ancient tomes. It felt like a cozy, private library—a welcome change from arriving amidst startled monks.
"We thought," Aria said, her melodic voice holding a hint of laughter, "that a more private arrival point might be... preferable. Given past experiences."
Dorian carefully lowered Emily to her feet. She swayed slightly, her body buzzing with residual energy from the Essence, which still clung to her skin in thick, glowing blue patches. Dorian had streaks of blue across his chest, where her skin had pressed against his. Talyndra hurried forward, holding out two large gray towels.
"What's that blue stuff?" Talyndra asked, handing Dorian a towel.
"The Azure Essence," Aria said, walking towards them. Her gaze was fixed on Emily. "It's even more captivating in person. So potent."
"I... couldn't find a vial," Emily mumbled bash, accepting the second towel from Talyndra and gratefully wrapping it around herself. The warm, soft fabric felt heavenly.
Except, it didn't stay. The towel immediately, inexplicably, slid straight off her slick, glowing skin, pooling around her feet on the floor. Annoyed, Emily snatched it up again, trying to hold it firmly in place by pinning her arms tightly to her sides.
It slid down again. "What?!" she stammered, bewildered. "Why won't it stay on?"
"Fascinating," Aria murmured, stepping closer to examine the blue coating on Emily's arm, careful not to touch it. "It seems to repel non-living matter."
"I'll take my leave, then," Dorian announced, having successfully secured his own towel around his waist, though a few blue streaks remained on his chest and arms. He gestured towards his leg. "Need to get this looked at. Ladies." He gave Aria and Talyndra a polite nod, and held eye contact with Emily for a long moment before he strode out of the chamber, something unreadable in his expression.
"I guess we need to get this stuff off me," Emily sighed, rubbing her blue arm fruitlessly with the towel. "It, uh, doesn't seem to stick to cloth, just... me."
"Perhaps it is attracted to life?" Aria mused. "Or perhaps it repels inert material to maintain its purity?" She turned decisively to Talyndra. "Fetch me the compendium on Elemental Essences, the one with the sea-green cover. And see if you can find Sympathetic Bindings and Separations as well, that giant book we looked through yesterday. Don't worry, Emily," she added reassuringly. "We'll get you cleaned up."
Thinking it may aid the Essence removal, Emily slid the hair tie from her wrist and gathered up her hair, twisting it into a messy knot at the back of her head. Not for the first time, she marveled at her hair-tie's durability.
"Blue is a strange color for skin," Talyndra added cheerfully as she hurried towards a bookshelf, scanning the spines.
The comment struck Emily as profoundly ironic coming from a green-skinned wood elf, but she was too tired and too sticky to point it out. "I'd like to go back to my normal color as soon as possible," she agreed fervently. "And maybe put something on that will actually stay on."
While Aria and Talyndra retrieved the heavy books and began poring over arcane diagrams and densely packed script, Emily sank onto a nearby stool. The adrenaline was finally fading, leaving behind a deep, aching exhaustion. She recounted the events at the Azure Coast, from the confrontation with Kastor, to the scene on the clifftop, to Richard's demise and their escape.
Aria listened intently, her stone brow furrowed, occasionally asking sharp, pertinent questions. Talyndra gasped and exclaimed at appropriate moments, her eyes wide with vicarious excitement and horror.
"So, Richard..." Aria paused, setting down a heavy volume. "Is he truly gone?"
Emily nodded, the image of the withered husk flashing unwanted behind her eyes. "The nightmoss... it was horrible. Just awful." There was something else about it too, something on the tip of her tongue, but it was gone as soon as it arose.
"A fitting end," Aria stated coolly, a flicker of grim satisfaction crossed her stone features.
"Nightmoss," Talyndra repeated, slowly turning the word over. "Was that... oh, hang on! It says here the Essence can be removed from a living host by immersion in blessed water."
"The Abbey's cleansing pool should suffice," said Aria. "Talyndra, fetch a large ceramic basin and fill it from the sanctified font."
As Talyndra bustled off, Emily felt a wave of relief. "Two ingredients down, one to go," she said to Aria.
"The Cinder Wastes await," Aria replied.
Sometime later, sounds of banging and clanging from the hallway heralded Talyndra's return. She appeared at the doorway, grinning bashfully. "I had to get some help with the basin—but don't worry, Emily, I figured something out." Then, turning to face over her shoulder, she shouted, "Just keep going straight!"
"What in Thessolan?" began Aria, as the banging and clanging grew louder.
Emily's heart leaped into her throat as a burly monk walked backward into the room, carrying one end of a large basin filled almost to the brim with sparkling water. A second monk brought up the other side, walking forward. Both were blindfolded.
Emily almost summoned a fireball before realizing they were dressed in the brown robes of Paja Abbey, rather than the blue robes of Tiedavon. They were also far clumsier than the blind monks she'd been running from less than an hour ago, each sporting a few fresh bruises.
Following Talyndra's careful direction, the monks deposited the basin in the middle of the chamber before taking their leave.
"We only had to refill it three times before they got the hang of the blindfold thing," Talyndra said, with a sympathetic glance at Emily's blue skin. "Figured it was worth it, you know?"
Although Emily felt a little sorry for the blindfolded monks, she nodded vigorously in agreement before climbing into the basin. The water was warm and pleasant. The Azure Essence began to separate from her skin, spreading out slowly across the surface of the water.
"Do you know how long this will take?" Emily asked.
Talyndra skimmed over the page where she'd found the solution. "You like baths, don't you?"
"How long?"
Talyndra exchanged a nervous glance with Aria. "Oh, just, uh... twenty-four hours. Might get a little pruney."
"Twenty-four hours?!" Emily exclaimed, bolting upright in the basin. "That's... ugh, fine. Maybe I can pretend it's a really high-end, intensive spa treatment."
"That's the spirit!" said Aria. "You know, Emily, standing like that, you look an awful lot like that stained glass window. Just a bit bluer."
"You don't say," Emily replied, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, I suppose sitting in a tub of water for twenty-four hours isn't the hardest thing I've had to do to get this Azure Essence stuff. But be warned—last time I took a long bath, I accidentally traveled to another world!"
