Authors: Emily Ann Ward
Tags: #romance, #fantasy, #epic fantasy, #fantasy romance, #shape changers, #shape shifters, #emily ann ward, #the protectors
Grace cautiously approached him.
His paws looked as big as her face, and his dark eyes lingered on
her.
Shouts echoed outside, stirring
Grace from her awe.
“Did he kill their Boren?” Grace
asked Lee.
“He tried, but they probably have
a Thieran.”
Grace’s heart pounded, and she
looked at Dar. If they had a Thieran, then they could heal Dar. She
swallowed hard, wiping sweat off of her forehead. He couldn’t die.
If he died, it would be her fault. But if she went to the
Protectors, Sierra would have to find the ancient texts alone… and
would she be able to do anything without Grace? What about
Lisbeth’s vision, the clasped hands, the matching
birthmark?
“Where are the ancient texts?”
Sierra asked.
“There’s a tunnel down there,” Lee
said, pointing to the yawning darkness past the tiger. “When you
come to the fork, turn right, then climb the steps. The ancient
texts are hidden in a chest near the drawing of a tiger changing
into a man.”
Sierra looked toward the cave
opening again. “But what about the others?”
Lee gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t
know.”
“If we go back there, we’ll be
trapped,” Grace said.
He stared at the tiger for a
moment, then said, “No. There’s a way out back there. You go all
the way up the steps, turn left, and it will take you to the river
above us.”
“No, we’re not leaving the others
behind,” Sierra said, shaking her head.
“We can hold them off,” Dar said
hoarsely.
“You can’t even stand!” Sierra
motioned to the cave opening. “And Evan and Matilda…”
“He said another tiger is coming,”
Lee said, staring at the tiger again.
Grace dropped to her knees in front
of Dar. “Dar,” she whispered. “What if they kill you?”
“Then you better get those ancient
texts,” Dar said, half-smiling. His hands touched hers. “You have
to go, Grace. It’s what we came all this way for.”
She kissed him, his lips hot to the
touch. Her eyes stung with tears as she realized she had to leave
him behind. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Dar
whispered.
Tears trickled down her cheeks.
“I’ll come back for you. I’ll find a way to save you.” She swung
Dar’s bag off her shoulder and tore through it. She found what she
wanted: two flasks, one with a purple liquid inside of it, the
other a golden-colored liquid.
“What are you doing?” Dar asked.
“Grace, leave it with me.”
“No,” she said, pocketing it. “You
can’t die. You have to hold on. I’ll be back, and I will find a way
to save your life.” Their kiss was salty from her tears.
“Promise me you won’t do anything
stupid,” Dar said.
She smiled. “I love you.” She stood
up and held Dar’s bag out for Lee. “Clothes, some food, a water
skin.”
“Won’t you need it more?” Lee
asked.
Her eyes widened. “How far is
it?”
Lee paused, glancing at the tiger
again. “He said not far, but he’s never been there.”
She left the bag next to Dar and
turned to Sierra. “Let’s go.”
Sierra led the way with the torch.
Grace watched over her shoulder until she could no longer see Dar.
She and Sierra descended deeper into a tunnel.
What would happen when they found
the ancient texts? She hoped Matilda and Evan could delay the
Protectors or, better yet, kill them. She swallowed at the morbid
thought.
Would the tiger tell the
Protectors’ Boren where they were going? She wondered if animals
could withhold information from Borens.
Her mind raced with these questions
and more as they moved. The tunnel grew narrower so Grace felt like
the walls might swallow them up. As they walked, scurrying noises
surrounded the tunnels, like insects trying to escape them. Grace
stepped on a few crunchy things she knew weren’t part of the
ground.
They came to the fork Lee had
spoken about and turned right. After a few minutes, Sierra ran into
a wall. “It’s a dead end,” she said, her voice hitching.
“But where are the steps?” Grace
asked.
They searched around in the small
corner in Sierra’s waning torch light.
“Wait,” Sierra said, running her
hand over the wall. “I think… I think this is them.”
She held her torch up. The first
few steps were nothing like Grace imagined, like a staircase. They
were so steep she could reach straight forward and touch the fifth
step. “Oh, my goodness. How high do these go?”
She looked up, but the torch light
only gave them vision up to see the steps part of the way; they did
start to slant, so it wasn’t a complete incline.
“How are we going to see where
we’re going and climb that at the same time?” Grace
asked.
Sierra stepped on the first step,
which held little more than half of her foot. She leaned forward on
the steps and pulled herself up to the second step. “I’ll be okay
holding the torch. The trouble is going to be coming back
down.”
They moved slowly and cautiously,
though Grace knew both of them wanted to go quicker, thinking of
Evan and Dar back with the Protectors. The stone was wet and in
spots, slippery. Milky white spiders the size of Grace’s palm ran
from the torchlight. Grace had to hold back squeals of surprise
whenever she saw strange bugs on the steps: long-bodied worms with
thousands of legs; round, shiny roaches. A few of these bugs flew
once the firelight hit them, and Sierra stumbled once, kicking dirt
in Grace’s face.
She wiped dirt from her eyes,
coughing. “Are you okay?” she called.
“Yeah, sorry,” Sierra
said.
Grace looked down below them, but
she could no longer see the bottom.
Fifteen minutes up the steps,
Sierra’s torch flickered. It was giving off more smoke than flame.
Sierra swore. “I see a landing above. There’s just enough room to
sit there, and I’ll get the fire started again.”
The fire went out before they
reached the landing. They were enveloped in darkness. “I can feel
the landing,” Sierra said. “I’m almost there.”
Grace froze, afraid to move. She
thought of all the bugs that had run from the fire. Were they now
coming back? She heard Sierra moving above her, but Grace stayed in
her spot, leaning against the steep steps. Her head ached from
where Arlan had hit her, and her entire body cried for
rest.
“I’m there!” Sierra said. “Work
your way up here while I get this going again.”
Swallowing, Grace reached out for
the steps above her. She had more important things to worry about
than bugs.
Just then, they heard the echo of a
yell. The noise startled Grace, and she had to hold onto the steps
to keep her balance.
“Did you hear that?” Sierra’s
voice asked.
Grace nodded, squeezing her eyes
shut—though it made no difference; it was just as dark. She prayed
it wasn’t Dar. She prayed it was a Protector. She heard Sierra
moving above her, trying to light a fire again. Grace started to
reach out, but her arms were stiff and sore, and she didn’t want to
move.
A blossom of light filled the area
again, and Sierra was ten feet above her on a rock that jutted out
from the steps. “Come on,” Sierra said, reaching out her free arm.
“You can do it.”
“I’m scared,” Grace said, her
voice shaky.
“I know.” Sierra moved her torch,
and Grace saw the drawing on the wall. It looked like it was
written with chalk; it had three forms: a tiger, a man, and between
them, a strange form that looked like a bit of both.
“Look, Sierra.”
Sierra turned and, when she saw the
drawing, grinned. “We’re close, Grace. We’re close; come
on.”
Grace climbed the last of the steps
to the landing, and Sierra helped her onto the rock. Grace let out
a shaky laugh. “Where’s this chest?”
They looked around the small area
and found the chest hidden in a hollow in the wall. When Grace
pulled it out, a collection of dark insects came scurrying out of
the area. She tensed, gritting her teeth. “These bugs scare me more
than that tiger did,” she said breathlessly.
Sierra half-stood, stepping on as
many bugs as she could before they disappeared back into the hole.
“They’re ugly little beasts.”
The chest was smaller than Grace
had been expecting, maybe four by two feet. She pulled open the
lid, and one last insect scurried away. Sierra moved the torch; the
orange light revealed a collection of scrolls. Grace pulled one out
tenderly, hoping it didn’t dissolve at her touch. She unrolled a
scroll carefully and felt the thick paper. It was brittle and parts
of the edges fell off, but aside from that, it was a typical
scroll.
“Do you think we could fit all of
them in our bags?” Sierra asked.
“Wait, what about what Evan said?
We need to figure out how to break the curse.”
Sierra stared at her. “They’re out
there fighting—”
“Everything in Lisbeth’s prophecy
has come true so far. Our birthmarks. Dar turned into a lion. We
were the riders in the snow. The waterfall. Next is the two of us
clasping hands—”
“Oh, my god,” Sierra groaned. “I
can’t believe this. Dar and Evan are out there—”
“Just a few minutes!” Grace
exclaimed. “That book said that the ancient texts had sections for
protective magic. I’m not going anywhere until I look
around.”
Sierra huffed, opening and closing
her mouth. “But…”
“They’ll be fine.” Grace bent over
and combed through the scrolls. They had to be. And she and Sierra
had to find something otherwise they could be hurt or dead and it’d
be her fault.
Sierra propped her torch into an
opening on the wall and looked through the scrolls with her. “If
anything happens to Evan…” She trailed off, opening a scroll to
read the first couple words.
They combed through the scrolls.
Some were older than others, and Grace dealt with them as gently as
she could while going quickly. She and Sierra rolled through the
scrolls, searching for certain words. Most of it was legends and
stories.
“This is taking forever,” Sierra
said in frustration as more yells met them. “Grace, we need to
go.”
Grace paused her search in the
chest. Something near the bottom felt different. It was warm to the
touch. She pulled it out, her brow furrowed. It was a velvet black
case, and inside was a thin scroll, only the length of Grace’s
hand. She unrolled the scroll, and loopy, cursive writing was
scrawled across the papyrus paper.
The scroll was
dated five hundred years ago. “‘
This
scroll is for those marked to protect the
Avialies
,” Grace read. Sierra drew closer,
looking over her shoulder. They read of Kallie and Tamora Evere who
shared the same birthmark Sierra and Grace had.
“‘
We kept the shape changers safe from a
blood disease that a Thieran tried to infect the Avialies with.
When we heard of the threat, we sought to help. We heard of Rebecca
and Caylen Aros, who had identical marks. When the Avialies were
threatened by a deadly plague a thousand years ago, Rebecca and
Caylen were called to stop the war.
’”
Grace and Sierra exchanged
wide-eyed looks. They skimmed Rebecca and Caylen’s story until they
got to the end. The writers said the two women clasped hands and
chanted a song that would bring forth the magic from the mark to
protect the Avialies. It was frustratingly vague, and Kallis and
Tamare’s story was along the same lines. They clasped hands,
chanted the words, and then the writers finished the scroll with a
charge to help the Avialies no matter the sacrifice.
Grace didn’t need to read that;
she’d already left Dar behind to find these blasted
things.
“That’s it?” Sierra asked. “I can
hardly even pronounce those words. They must be in some ancient
language.”
“The women in the vision clasped
hands.” Grace let out a shaky breath, staring at the scroll. “Let’s
try it.”
Sierra nodded. They set stones on
both sides of the scroll so it would stay open and joined hands.
Yells traveled through the tunnels. What was going on down there?
Dar had to be okay. She had to have a chance to help him. At least
the chance.
She leaned over, peering at the
scroll. The words still didn’t make sense, but after a silent
glance at Sierra, they began trying to sound out the words. Soft
whispers filled the air of the cave. Grace paused, the hairs on the
back of her neck standing up. She realized whatever she was hearing
were the words on the scroll. She and Sierra began reading the rest
of the words. Her mouth seemed to work without her. The
pronunciation rolled off her tongue, and the two of them
established a rhythm to the lines.
“Måljivea adëab
fejån
ljaun pitu reøs. Måljivea Eloha
jidøe adëab ljaun pitu reøs. Måljivea reøsä ljaune. Måljivea khula
bique reø. Måljivea adëab fejån ljaun pitu reøs.
”