Moonshadow (24 page)

“That can happen?” Diana asked, very alarmed.

“To the untrained or impure, the forces of the Veil can be deadly. It’s why we seek out such places and build shrines.”

Visions of Miri’s dancing filled Diana’s mind as she made the connection. “
That’s
what Miri meant by ‘soothing the Mother and bringing her back into balance.’”

“Exactly,” Darien replied with a proud smile. “It’s the duty of the Almar to make these places safe, especially to humans. We should let Miraena know when we return.”

“Why would Flinders build his house here?” Diana asked. “Didn’t you say he built the church over one of these places too?”

“Indeed,” Darien replied. “It can’t be coincidental, either. The only explanation is what we’ve come to suspect—Flinders must have learned of my people, our history, and the intricacies of the Veil. ”

“What about the dangers?”

“That’s the most curious of all. Flinders must have frequented this place often and oversaw its construction. Without a person experienced with the Veil’s forces, he and his crew would have suffered any number of terrors.”

At his words, Diana saw the movement of shadows out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to see the barely visible image of a grinning Lurker, fading into dark and hazy nothingness.

Diana swiftly grabbed a hold of Darien’s arm, resolved to not leave his side again as they inspected the cave.

Beginning with the nearest branch, they both shined their lights, illuminating the floors, sides, and cave ceilings, looking for clues. At the end of the carved tunnel, they found a rough-cut stone altar with an antique candelabra made of brass sitting atop of it. The brass had aged and turned an aquamarine color, and the mouths of the candleholders had been scorched black by the flames they had once held.

There was nothing else in the small alcove.

Diana searched around for some sort of clue, be it a piece of cloth or an inscription of some kind, but found nothing.

“Let’s just leave it alone,” she said. Darien agreed and they quickly made their way down next branch of the cave.

They found a similar stone altar with a bowl made from the same aged metal as the candelabra, filled with tepid water. They left it alone as well.

Atop the third branch’s altar, stood the remains of a small bonsai tree that had long been dead. The fourth had a human skull placed upon it, and when Darien found it, he didn’t seem surprised.

“You expected the skull; why?” Diana asked as they made their way out of the fourth alcove.

“After the candelabra and the bowl of water, I had my suspicions,” Darien replied. “The dead tree sealed them. The four altars represent the four Kratari Pillars—Primal, Spirit, Life, and Death.”

“What exactly is the significance?”

“They are also the primary schools of magic.”

“I thought the schools of magic were like Fire, Water, Wind, and Earth,” Diana said, her confusion evident. “You’re a stone mage, right?”

“Elemental magic falls under the umbrella of the Primal School—magic pertaining to the primal aspects of nature. It’s what humans usually think of in terms of magical powers, but it’s only one school.”

“Do you learn the other schools as well?” she asked.

“Of course,” he continued. “In order to grasp the primal powers we must learn to control the powers of spirit. The two schools are opposites, yet without the one, you cannot tap into the other. A mage must live in a constant state of balance between the physical and the spiritual.”

“I see,” Diana replied. Well, she sort of understood what he was talking about. She knew if she let on that she didn’t quite understand, Darien would continue on for a few more hours and they would never accomplish anything.

“What does all this have to do with Flinders?” she asked, changing the subject. “Why would he have these altars to the schools of magic? He couldn’t have been a mage.”

“No; but he must have known one—it’s the only explanation for the existence of this place.”

“What’s in the last branch?”

“You’ll see,” he replied with a troubled smile as they entered the final alcove.

Instead of a stone altar, they stood before a large sarcophagus made of white marble.

“It’s a tomb,” Diana said softly with respect for the dead.

“A star tomb—to be precise,” Darien said as he looked on the coffin in the distance. “A type of family tomb that was common among the nobility of Qir’Aflonas. They have five branches like a star—one for each school of magic to honor the Kratari, and a final branch for the deceased.”

Drawing near to the marble sarcophagus, Diana was struck by the carved image lying atop it—a beautiful woman with long flowing hair, her eyes closed as if only asleep, holding a bouquet of lilies to her chest. The very lifelike piece of stonework may have been the most exquisite Diana had ever seen. Captivated by the tranquil face, Diana was reminded of an old photograph that her grandmother had shown her long ago.

Realizing who the woman was, Diana gasped and went ridged.

“It’s Charlotte…” Diana said in quiet reverence. Her aunt was supposed to have been cremated.

“This is exquisite work done by a master stone mage. It might be better than my own.”

It was definitely better than Darien’s, but Diana didn’t have the heart to say so.

“I wonder what happened to her,” she asked, walking around the side of the sarcophagus.

“There’s only one way to know for certain,” Darien said with a look that Diana knew meant opening it. He was waiting for her consent.

She nodded.

“How are we going to open it? That lid looks like it took five men to put into place.”

Darien smiled. “I have it well in hand,” he said and brought both his arms up slightly at his side, the palms of his hands facing upwards.

Diana felt the chill in her chest and Darien began to move his arms slightly higher. As his arms moved upwards, the lid of the sarcophagus lifted as well. Diana simply stared on in wonder. Darien twisted his body to the left and the lid followed his movements. He then bent down—touching the backs of his hands to the ground—and the lid landed softly with a slight thud. Darien stood back up, took a handkerchief from his pocket, and then rubbed off the small amount of dirt he had procured on the back of his hands. He then waved Diana over to inspect the contents of the coffin.

The body of her Aunt Charlotte had rotted away long ago, leaving only bones and a few strands of hair. She had been buried in a simple ivory dress, although Diana wondered if the ivory had once been a white whose purity had decayed along with the body. She had not been clutching flowers, however. Instead, she held a golden apple with what looked to be a serpent or dragon made of rubies coiled around it.

Darien gently lifted the hands from the apple, folding them back over the other, and placed it to the side. “I’m going to inspect the body for foul play.”

Diana could only watch on in bewilderment as Darien gently looked over the decayed bones that had once been her great-aunt.

“The only thing I can find appears to be a stab wound through her sternum, the sides of which are charred black.”

“She was stabbed in the heart by a hot blade?” Diana asked, startled by the appalling imagery.

Darien nodded. “It would appear that way.”

“Who would do such a thing?” she asked.

“There’s no way to know for sure,” he said, his mouth forming into a troubled frown. “I’ve seen similar wounds before—from a Shadowstalker’s blade.”

Diana’s suspicions had been proven right. Charlotte had been executed by the elves; but for what reason?

“What does that apple have to do with all this?” Diana asked, hoping Darien could deduce the motive for her aunt’s murder from the item she’d been buried with.

“I’m familiar with this as well,” Darien said with a curious look as he took the apple into his hand and held it closer to his eyes. “At one time, these ornaments decorated the hallowed halls of Silvermoon Palace. How strange; not only had Charlotte been laid to rest in the fashion of the nobles of
Qir’Aflonas
, she had been buried holding the sigil of the royal house.” Darien’s eyes lit up at a significant realization. “That is where we are meant to go. Flinders and Charlotte left this as a clue to the Chalice’s location.”

“Where is this
Qir’Aflonas
, exactly?” Diana asked, her curiosity growing ever more intense.

“
Qir’Aflonas
—the sacred jewel of the Naphalei—was once a beautiful, and very ancient, kingdom on the island you know as Britain. It is now a cursed ruin, destroyed long ago during the War of the Serpent.”

“The War of the Serpent…” Diana repeated the words, thinking them over in conjunction with what she knew of Flinders, Charlotte, and the Chalice of the Moon.

Then, it suddenly all made sense.
The White Wraith—
Charlotte’s epic Arthurian poem—it
had
been the true account of history.

“Arthur Pendragon was the Serpent, wasn’t he?” Diana asked, hoping Darien would finally answer her.

The “dangerous” question seemed to pull Darien out of his thoughts, causing him to pay attention to her again.

“Your abilities of deduction still amaze me,” he said with a smile, handing the golden apple to Diana. “Yes, Arthur’s war on Qir’Aflonas was devastating for both our peoples and had to be forgotten by human history.”

“King Arthur destroyed Avalon?” Diana said, hardly able to believe the notion as she shook her head in wonder. Taking the apple into her hand, Diana’s skin started to tingle and every follicle of hair on her body began to raise up as the swirling shadows of the Veil emerged from the darkness of the cavern and sought to consume her in the waking world. As she screamed with fright, reaching out to Darien for support, his image faded into black until all that remained was the deafening silence of the void. 

Screams of terror filled Diana’s heart but she quickly realized they were not her own. Somehow, she was being tormented with someone else’s fear. The intense pain in her chest was not emotional, but physical, and carried with it the searing agony of burning skin.
No—it’s too soon—Fox—forgive me—I love you—this is not the end.

A white hot flash exploded within the darkness.

Diana opened her eyes to find she was lying on the hard, rocky, floor of the cavern tomb, clutching the golden apple to her chest. Darien knelt on the ground next to her, holding her other hand in his.

“What happened to me?” she asked with groggy shock.

“You blacked out for a moment,” Darien replied, looking rather worried. “I wasn’t fast enough to catch you; I’m sorry. I didn’t want to move you, just in case you hit your head.”

Diana sat herself up, not feeling any sort of head trauma as she did so. “I think I’m fine. The Veil shadows engulfed me and I think I felt Charlotte being murdered.”

Even though he looked rather grim, Darien didn’t seem surprised. “She must have been killed on the grounds and it seems her death scarred the Veil. You carry her blood within you, Diana, and the echo of her spirit calls out to you.”

“It felt so real,” Diana said softly, the emotional and physical pain lingering within her heart like a fading phantom. In Charlotte’s last moments, she had thought only of her beloved Foxwell.

Seeing that Diana was physically unhurt, Darien helped her to her feet. “We found what we needed, let’s not linger in this place.”

She nodded her agreement and Darien used his abilities to replace the lid of the sarcophagus before they made their way back to the spiral staircase. When they reached the top, Darien moved the bookshelf back in place, covering the entrance to the tomb.

Still in a daze, Diana sat on the bed and brought her bag into her lap. She placed Charlotte’s golden apple within, next to the precious antique books, and sighed heavily. Looking to the fire burning in the heath, Diana couldn’t help but shiver at the memory of the searing pain in her chest—in Charlotte’s chest. Why had she been murdered with the burning blade of a Shadowstalker?

The shiver coalesced into the familiar chill that signaled magic use and Diana turned to see what Darien was up to. To her surprise he stood where he had been a moment ago, still lost in thought.
That’s strange
.

The cold void grew more intense and realization dawned on her.

“We’re not alone!” she yelled out in warning.

Her warning brought Darien back to reality and he sensed the danger as well. In an inhuman blur, he ran to Diana and clutched her tightly to his chest and Diana held the bag to her own. In a fraction of a second, they crashed through a cracked window, glass debris all around them as they fell to the ground below. Within an instant, Charlotte’s room exploded in an eruption of flames, smoke, and debris, and the force of the blast propelled them further away.

Still clutching her close with one arm, Darien stretched out his other arm towards the ground below, palm down. Diana watched on in astounded wonder as the hard ground erupted in a fountain of soft dirt that took the brunt of the impact and broke their fall.