Page 118 of Bull Moon Rising

“I don’t think it’s foolish to be cautious,” I say, stepping forward. “And we’ve taught ourselves to tie together quickly. We can do so now.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Magpie gives a cross look to the portal master. “I hope you don’t mind waiting on this nonsense.”

He shrugs, uneasy. “You’re paying me.”

I don’t like this. I don’t like it because it makes me wonder how many others bribe their way into the Everbelow under the cover of night and steal from the guild. I don’t like that I would normally condemn such deeds and instead I’m about to break the rules myself. I shove down all those unhappy feelings and rope myself in, passing it along to Gwenna quickly. She ties herself to me, and then we go down the line until we’re all tied together and in position, Lark behind Kipp. Magpie watches us with annoyance, and then shakes her head. “Fine. Get ready to step through to the drop when he opens the portal.”

We step through and immediately I can feel the cool shift of the air. The night was warm above but down below it’s chilly and slightly damp. I hug my cloak closer and move toward the others so I don’t jerk on the rope. The tunnel seems larger than before, which surprises me, but perhaps I misremembered it in my awe at being in Old Prell. Gwenna flicks on the lantern atop her staff—as she’s navigator this time—and holds it aloft, looking around.

My heart flutters in my throat once more at the sight of the glory of the ancient city. Of the toppled columns and the broken cobblestones beneath our feet, and the lichen that grows over everything. What I wouldn’t give to wander through all the tunnels and just drink it all in. Kipp pulls out his blade and eyes the tunnel behind us, taking a step forward and then patting his belt, frowning. He turns to Lark and then makes a gesture.

“Flags. Right. We forgot our flags,” Lark says. “To mark our place.”

“No flags tonight,” Mereden points out, tugging the hood of her cloak over her tight curls. She has no cap over her head this evening, because we felt it would be too obvious if we ran into anyone else in the guild. “Just ask Magpie.”

“The guild would have flags down here anyhow,” I say, touching a series of glyphs carved into the wall. It looks familiar, but it’s hard to tell for certain. “To ensure no one else digs in a spot that’s under investigation. Are we sure this is the right place?”

“Hmm, let me check. Wait right here,” Magpie says.

She turns and heads down the narrow tunnel, and then bends over. There’s something glowing in her hand, and she draws a line across the tunnel floor with it, leaving an iridescent mark on the stone. “Sorry, Lark.”

“Sorry for what?” Lark asks, pushing back to where her aunt is.

We move along after Lark, trained to walk together, and when she heads for the chalk line, she’s immediately thrown backward, as if she’s run into a wall. With a yelp, Lark stumbles, caught by Mereden and myself. I gasp in shock even as Lark struggles to her feet.

Magic.

Something’s not right.

“What the fuck is that?” Lark demands, dusting off her jacket.

Magpie holds up the chalk from her spot on the other side of the line. “Magic, of course.” She turns to the portal master. “You can send him down now.”

I approach the chalk line, cautious. The closer I get to it, the more my hair stands up from my nape, the air humming around us. I poke the butt of my staff against the chalk line, only to have it jerk violently backward in my grasp.

“It’s a spell,” I tell the others.

“No shit,” Magpie says. “And you the great scholar.”

I ignore her, turning to the others. “The chalk must produce an entrapment spell. We can’t break free without her rubbing the line out on her side.”

Lark struggles out of Mereden’s grasp and surges forward again. “What the fuck, Aunt Magpie?”

Magpie spreads her hands in mock apology. “I told you not to tie in with them, Lark darling. But you chose them over me. That’s fine. I’ll drink a bottle in your name.” She turns her head as the portal shimmers and two new men come through.

I gasp, stunned, as Barnabus arrives to stand at Magpie’s side, one of his soldiers close by him and holding a crossbow. “What’s going on?”

Barnabus smirks at me. “I made your teacher a better offer, that’s what’s going on.” He holds his hand out and Magpie drops the chalk into it. “Do you like my new toy?”

“If I say no, does it change anything?” I’m furious at him, of course, but my old training kicks in and I stiffen my back, putting on my bored-holder-lady expression, the one I wear at every social gathering. “You need to let us go.”

“I don’tneedto do anything.” Barnabus tosses the chalk between his hands, then lifts it into the air, admiring the carved handle that holds the delicate piece of chalk in place. “Though it is rather fortunate that one of my other teams located this just yesterday. It makes holding you captive far too easy.”

“Is that what this is, then?” I ask, drawing myself up indignantly. “A hostage situation? Let the others go and you and I can figure out the problems between us.”

Barnabus just rolls his eyes and flips the chalk (and holder) once more, unbothered by my demand.

Lark takes another step forward to the barrier, only for Kipp to pull her back again. “Why are you doing this, Aunt Magpie?” She’s clearly heartbroken. “I don’t understand!”

---