Ravenous (29 page)

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Authors: MarcyKate Connolly

BOOK: Ravenous
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CHAPTER 8

THE HEAT INCREASES WITH EVERY BREATH. CRACKS HIDDEN IN THE
walls serve as natural steam vents, and we have to step around some in the floor of the tunnel, too. I hope we don't encounter any too large to pass. A dragon might have been able to slither over large vents, but the passage was obviously not made for small human feet.

It feels like we walk for miles. The passage gets steeper, and sweat trickles down my spine. It's so warm, my hand slips out of Ren's grasp. I miss the comfort of it, but I don't think I could hold on if I tried.

“Do you think we'll be able to get back up the passage?” Ren asks nervously.

I eye the path in front us—a steep drop. “I hope so,” I say, though I'm not as certain as I sound.

To our relief, we soon reach a section that levels out. “I wonder how far down we are,” Ren says.

“Perhaps halfway into the mountain?” I guess.

Smoke and steam puff at us from vents in the walls as we reach a large cavern, big enough for a clan of dragons—or one with a particularly large stash of treasure.

Ren holds his torch high, revealing a massive pile of glittering stones that fills the cave. Rubies and emeralds on one side, diamonds and sapphires on another—a whole rainbow of colors winking before us.

I have never seen so many riches in one place in my life—which is saying a lot, since I grew up in a palace.

Ren's eyes are as big as saucers as he takes it all in. “Where do we even start?” he asks, then shivers. “You don't think a dragon could still be alive down here somewhere, do you?”

I notice the warren of tunnels shooting off from this room. I shiver too. “Of course not. Dragons are extinct. The wizards made sure of that. We have nothing to fear.”

I hope.

“I'll take the left side.” Ren points to the rubies and emeralds. “You start on the right. If it's here, the Wizard's Bane will be in this pile somewhere.”

I sigh. “Yes, but we don't even know what it looks like. Not really, just vague descriptions.”

The books have described it as a stone of simple beauty. All these stones here are simply beautiful too. How will we know which one to choose? We can't take the entire treasure trove home with us.

Ren dives into the rubies—literally. I stifle a laugh.

Riches are good to have—useful, even—but they've never brought me true happiness. They can't buy me an escape from the wizard.

Ren holds up the rubies, glittering in the glow of the torchlight. “Would it be all right if I take some of these with me?” he says. His face bears an odd expression I can hardly make sense of. Yet I think I know why he asks, and my heart drops into my feet.

“I don't think the dragon will come back to claim them, if that's what you mean,” I say.

Ren frowns. “No, if I were—”

“We must hurry,” I say, cutting him off. “The guards were right on our tail. They'll find this entrance eventually. We have to locate the Wizard's Bane before they do.”

His face falls, but he nods his agreement. Getting the Wizard's Bane is all that matters today. We continue our search in hurried silence, fearful that the guards will discover us any second. Before we find what we need.

I paw over diamond tiaras; rough, uncut gems; and necklaces with stones as big as my fists that would break my back to wear. But nothing that says simple beauty. I toy with the idea that it might be one of the uncut diamonds, but in truth they are not very beautiful at that stage and I toss them aside, disappointed.

Ren makes slower progress through his pile, and I pace the cavern. Could it be hidden in an alcove or somewhere easily overlooked?

Or not here at all?

I push that thought aside and keep walking. It must be here. I can't allow myself to think anything else or I'll curl up on this floor in the awful heat and cry. We've come too far to fail now.

Several small caves branch off from this cavern, and I begin to investigate each one. I don't go too far down any of them, just enough to see where they lead. Most end quickly, while one or two are full-on passages. Some have altars with what appear to be offerings from long ago. Desiccated fruit and spices, more jewels, animal bones, and rock piles dot the caves—more evidence that a real dragon lived here, and that the locals paid it respect.

Something stops me in my tracks.

I return to the last alcove I passed, the one with a small rock formation on the stone altar. They seemed so plain at first glance that I barely gave them a second thought. But on closer examination, they're not all chunks of granite like I assumed. They're set up in a semicircle with four forming a half moon, and one larger rock in the center. It resembles a blinking eye.

At first glance it seemed gray, but up close it has a luminescence to it. In fact, if I stare hard enough, its insides shimmer and swirl. I pick it up carefully, holding my breath and ready for the walls to cave in on us.

The walls remaining standing, but the stone tingles in my palm.

“Ren!” I shout. “Ren!”

He drops the crown he's holding and runs over. He touches the stone tentatively.

“How do you know it's the Wizard's Bane?” he asks.

“Look closer,” I say. “Look how the innards move. Like there's something alive inside it. It was in the center of the altar over here.” I point to the alcove where I found it. “It was treated like something special.”

He eyes the stone warily. “It doesn't look special to me,” he says.

I laugh, heady with a certainty I can barely explain. “Here,” I say, dropping the stone into his outstretched palm. “See for yourself.”

His eyes widen in surprise. He must feel the tingling sensation, a prickling of magic that lies just below the surface.

“I think you're right,” he says. I smile.

I take the stone back and slip it into my pocket. “We should go, before the guards drag us from the cave.”

Ren gives a longing glance at the piles of jewels before following me up the steep incline of the passage. We have to scramble over sharp rocks in the oppressive heat. It's much harder going up. My foothold slips once, sending me careening down a drop of five feet. I hit the ground hard, but suffer only bruises.

“Rosabel!” Ren cries. “Take this.” He pulls a rope from his pack and tosses one end down to me. “Tie it around your waist. We'll keep each other balanced.”

“Thank you,” I say, grateful he has thought of everything.

Our ascent is slow but steady now. I slip less with the
rope to hold on to and Ren's stable presence ahead. When I begin to believe I'll never be cool again, daylight breaks into the passage. Just a sliver of it is enough to make joy well up in my chest.

“Almost there,” Ren whispers.

We reach the bend in the passage and extinguish our torch, but do not dare exit yet. We can't see around the corner without anyone just outside seeing us. We must be mindful of the guards.

“Should we risk it?” Ren whispers.

I shrug. “We can't stay in here forever. We've been inside long enough that they may have moved on by now.”

Very slowly, we creep out from behind the corner and into the blinding light of midafternoon.

“Princess,” says a low voice that makes my heart sink, “thank goodness we've found you.” Hands grab my arm before I can react. Ren is caught too.

“Aron, you can let us go—we're returning to Bryre. You don't have to treat us like captives,” I say to the captain of my father's guards. He's one of the few people who know my face, which must be why he was sent to retrieve me. He's always been kind, and is by no means an unreasonable man.

He looks at me sadly. “I'm sorry, Your Highness, but I have my orders to bring you back. I must see that through. Forgive me, but we'll keep you and your friend as comfortable as possible.”

We're led back over the lava field toward the forest. More guards hide in the trees than I thought at first. We
won't be able to escape this time. But at least we're headed in the right direction. The weight of the Wizard's Bane in my pocket comforts me.

It doesn't matter if my parents lock me away forever. We have what we came for.

CHAPTER 9

WE REACH THE WOODS BY NIGHTFALL, AND THE GUARDS STOP TO REST.
They keep us in a tent with a heavy watch. I suppose I should be grateful Mama did not insist on the guards trussing us up. Somewhere in the forest nearby an owl hoots, bringing to mind the last time I heard one. I shiver, then pull my blanket tighter around me. I pull out the book containing the spell to invoke the Wizard's Bane and read off the ingredients.

“One chicken foot. A foxglove blossom. A pinch of arrowroot. Rowan leaves. Mermaid scale.” I sigh. “How on earth are we going to find all these things?” I moan.

“I think I have a solution.”

I raise an eyebrow when Ren pulls a few items from his pocket. “I remembered the chicken feet and scales in the
spell book, so I grabbed these from the caves before we left.” He opens his fist to reveal a desiccated chicken foot and a scale of iridescent blue.

I gasp. “How do you know that's a mermaid scale?”

Ren frowns. “Well, I don't, I guess. But it's as close as we're going to get. They're extinct. It makes sense for the offering in the dragon's cave to be from something more powerful than a fish.”

“I suppose you're right,” I say, grateful he swiped those things when he had the chance. “But what about the rest?”

Ren's eyes sparkle. “That's the easy part. There are rowan trees in these woods, and I can grab a few leaves from them as we pass tomorrow. Foxglove and arrowroot, too.”

“I don't recall seeing them when we passed through here before. I'll keep an eye out.” I was so focused on finding the Wizard's Bane, I neglected the chance to really enjoy my favorite subject out in the wild.

Tomorrow I'll make a point of giving the forest a much closer examination, especially for the trumpetlike blossoms of the foxglove and the arrowroot's leaves.

The guards wake us at dawn and pack up our tent. They want to move as fast as possible back to Bryre. Is it fear of the wizard or my parents' wrath that stirs them? I suspect a combination of both.

Ren and I march in silence while we scan the forest for the supplies we need to complete the spell. It isn't long before we pass a rowan tree in bloom, the creamy white flowers bursting open against the green leaves and white
bark. Ren runs his hand over an overhanging branch and stuffs a handful of leaves in his pocket. The guards think he's a kid, playing with a tree. They have no inkling we have magic in mind.

As midday approaches, mutters roll through the ranks. Nothing specific, just whispers and worried faces.

Something has them on edge. While this concerns me, Ren and I use it to our advantage. They're even less observant of when we stop to pick flowers than before. I pick several wildflowers—including the hanging foxglove—to mask our real task.

When Ren spots a patch of arrowroot, he pretends to tie his shoelace. Then he pulls the plant, roots and all, up from the ground and shoves it in his pack while our guard whispers to another.

I exchange a glance with Ren. Something odd is definitely going on in the forest. I'd bet my life it has something to do with the wizard. I can't help remembering those guards who died without any explanation before we fled to find the Wizard's Bane. The stone is a comforting weight in my pocket.

We can finally do something to help instead of waiting around uselessly.

“What do you think is going on?” I ask Ren when the guards are yet again distracted.

He frowns. “I don't know, but I don't like it. I heard one of them say something about a flock of geese vanishing from a herder's yard. Not the right time of year for them to fly south.”

“Strange,” I say, more troubled than ever. If the wizard is behind this, and the vanishing goats that farmer mentioned, what could he possibly want with these animals? It makes no sense at all. “We must act quickly,” I whisper. “If the wizard is in the woods, he's the only thing with magic around—we should be able to use the spell to siphon off his powers.”

“We should see if it says the target needs to be within a certain distance.”

“And we'll need to do the spell tonight.”

When we stop to make camp for the evening, we're back in familiar territory. The plant life is no longer the strange jungle vines, and our tall trees and leafy branches have returned. The sun sinks below the horizon, and the talk around the campfire takes on the tense tone of the afternoon.

We wait until the chatter trickles off to a smattering of low voices. Then we wait a little longer to be sure all but the two guards on watch have drifted off to sleep.

The items we need for the spell, the book, and the Wizard's Bane are securely packed, and we sneak out of the hole we made in the back of the tent, unnoticed by the guards. The sharp edge of the mermaid's scale sliced through easily. The moon is high above, and it lights our way forward. We want to get closer to Bryre, to where the wizard may be operating.

I haven't had time to finish the book, but according to what I've read so far, the stone will absorb the magic of whoever or whatever is named in the spell. Mama provided
that information when she told me about how he wooed her and set us all on this terrible course.

Barnabas.

What an evil-sounding name. Fitting for the man who sends my parents into spasms of fear.

Ren and I don't speak as we tread cautiously away from the camp. If something goes wrong, the last thing we want is to harm our own city's guards.

After walking for twenty minutes, we reach a grove far enough away to attempt the spell. As we settle in, sitting across from each other, I realize one odd thing: there are no night sounds at all.

The forest holds its breath.

So do we.

I open the book and read through the spell once more.

“‘Combine the ingredients in the exact order listed,'” I read. “‘Arrowroot, foxglove, mermaid scale, rowan leaves, and chicken foot.'”

Ren forms a pile, placing each ingredient on top of the last. A chill slinks over my arms, but I keep reading the instructions.

“‘Now hold the Wizard's Bane over the ingredients and repeat the spell.'” I set the book down so Ren and I can say it together.

“Take these wards, and take this stone

Remove the power that can't be owned

Barnabas is the one we name

So we invoke the Wizard's Bane.”

The stone warms in my hand, quickly growing painful. I'm terrified of dropping it. The book says nothing else after the spell. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it. The smoky insides shimmer and shake. I look wildly at Ren, but he shrugs helplessly.

A streak of light launches from the stone toward the ingredients below. Flames shoot up from the earth, devouring the offerings. I resist leaping back in fear.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Ren asks. The worry in his voice infects me, too.

“I don't know!”

A high-pitched whine emanates from the stone, and it becomes even more alarmingly hot. Pain sears into my palm, but I refuse to release it. The swirling shimmer inside moves faster and faster.

It bursts out of the stone in a brilliant flash of light, then transforms into dark smoky tendrils that dissipate into the forest. The Wizard's Bane is ash in my hands, coating the blistered burn that remains and slipping between my fingers to the forest floor. I open my mouth in a silent scream.

The
pain
.

It feels as though my hand is on fire, but no flames remain to put out.

Ren grabs his canteen and a rips off a piece of his cloak. His soaks it with water, then carefully wraps it around my hand. The weight of the cloth hurts so much that I want to cry out, but I bite my tongue instead. The cooling effect is welcome, and Ren is only trying to help.

“Do you think it worked?” Ren whispers.

“I hope so,” I say. I glance down at the pile of smoking ash. All that is left of the Wizard's Bane. “It was our only chance.”

“I didn't expect the Wizard's Bane to do that,” Ren says.

“Neither did I.”

Ren helps me to my feet, and I wobble unsteadily. That's when we hear it.

At first, it's only a slight creak. Then a louder groaning echoes through the trees. The moon vanishes somewhere behind a cloud, and the darkness is startling.

Then, a ripping sound. Like roots being yanked up from the soil.

Neither of us breathes. Our hearts beat a wild rhythm, and we are all too aware of how alone we are. How exposed.

We run.

We pay no heed to the branches tearing at our clothes or even to the paths themselves. We throw ourselves headlong in the direction of Bryre, thinking only of how to reach the safety of the city's warded walls.

Oh heavens. The guards.

“Wait!” I grab Ren's shoulder. “We have to warn the guards.”

“You want to go back?” he pants, catching his breath as he points to the forest behind us. Groans and creaks still echo, sparking prickling shivers over my whole body.

I swallow hard. “Yes. We can't let the wizard hurt them. They need to be warned.”

He hesitates for a moment. “All right, come on.” We skirt the grove where we performed the spell, but something there catches my eye.

My heart comes to a full stop in my chest.

The ferns in the grove are . . . walking.

They're moving toward us like we have a beacon spell cast on us. I flail for Ren's hand and he squeezes back.

“Do you see what I see?” he asks.

“Oh yes, yes, I do.”

I'm rooted to the spot, unable to look away. The realization slowly dawns that the ferns are not the only plants moving of their own accord.

The entire forest is alive. The groaning that frightened us is the sound of the ancient trees pulling up their roots from the ground. The creaking is them stretching their branches like a human stretches her limbs after a long slumber.

Every single one of them slowly advances toward us.

My heart begins to beat again, fast and furious with the pulse of terror.

We
did this.

Our spell backfired. Somehow it went horribly wrong.

“I don't think we need to worry about the guards after all,” I say to Ren as we back away from the grove. “I think they want us.”

“This is our fault, isn't it?” Ren says, his face paling several shades in the moonlight.

I don't even nod; I just run.

The groans and creaks increase, and we duck and weave between the trees. Roots rise from the ground near us, flailing over our heads. Limbs reach and swoop, grasping and tearing.

We've never run so fast in our lives.

Finally we near the hidden tunnel we used to leave the city. We glimpse the edges of the city walls through the trees. Bryre hasn't woken up yet.

The large rock hiding the entrance looms, and Ren frantically stomps the dead tree root nearby to unlock it. The boulder opens and we leap inside, sealing the door shut behind us.

“Rocks can't come alive, can they?” Ren asks warily.

“Oh, shut up,” I say. But we don't hang around to find out.

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