Page 43 of Fearless

Now they dart around the darkness, wide with panic. The blackness that stares back is so thick that I thought it belonged to the back of my eyelids. For a single, blissful moment, I had forgotten the fear that gripped me. Forgotten how suffocatingly dark it is.

This is the complete and utter absence of light. And for all I know, the presence of something far more terrifying.

I scramble to my feet, fear spurring my aching body into action. My hands fumble blindly, hoping to collide with that solid something in the center of this cavern. Empty air slips between my shaking fingers.

I’m panting now, claustrophobic in this space I cannot see.

I don’t remember falling far, but with my head throbbing this persistently, I’m not sure what to think. With a trembling step, I manage to stumble into that large expanse of what I now realize to be smooth wood. My hands flatten atop it to steady myself, but slow recognition has them running down the long length of it.

Head spinning and palms sweating, I feel each intricate groove of wood outlining the rectangle box.

My heart stutters in my chest, breath catching in my throat.

It’s a coffin.

It’shercoffin.

The first queen, Mareena of Dor, lies beside me.

I’ve found the crypt—fallen into it, really—and I am very much not alone. A chill skitters down my spine at the thought, feeling a sudden eeriness twine around my stiff body. The shadows seem to slither around me, like a snake assessing its prey before choking the life from it. I now understand why the bandits never dared look for her—they are smart enough not to disturb the dead.

Because Death protects his own.

My hands wander over the coffin, searching for some sort of opening. The lid is latched tightly enough to withstand my shoves against it. Fumbling for my dagger, I manage to wedge the blade beneath its stubborn lid.

Blood trickles from my temple and nearly every patch of exposed skin. My head aches so fiercely that I’m sure my vision would be swimming if given the opportunity to see a damn thing. Mustering what is left of my strength, I push down on the hilt of my dagger until a loud crack echoes through the crypt.

I’ve just broken into the queen’s coffin.

I stand there for a long moment, gripped with terror and theanticipation of something even worse. But it is only my own quivering breaths that fill the space as I curl trembling hands around the lid and throw the creaking wood open.

I shut my eyes, as if to convince myself that this stifling darkness is my choice. As if I have control over this petrifying situation.

Splayed, shaking fingers reach for what lies before me.

I know what I’ll find within the cushioned box. So when my skin brushes against the cold length of a bone, it’s not shock that has me gasping. It’s regret.

This was a human. This was a woman who lived and loved and was left to rot. The dead deserve more than respect from the living. They deserve peace. And I’ve disturbed her rest to steal what rightfully belongs to her.

Something eerily vast fills the space behind me, chilling enough to pebble bare flesh. I’ve never felt Death so tangibly, and yet, I recognize his presence all the same. The cold breath on my neck can only belong to the Death I have nearly met so many times before.

Terror sinks its teeth into my very soul.

I need to get out of here. But not without that crown.

Panicking, I run my hands up what is left of the once-beautiful queen. Decaying bones flake beneath my swift fingers and crumble against my touch. I choke on my next breath, forcing my hands to climb higher still.

Pelvis. Spine. Ribs.

It’s been decades since the body was placed in this crypt, and now there is nothing left of her. The very essence of what she once was crumbles in my hands, fragile in death. My fingers meet her skull, fractured and caved in with the weight of time. I bite my tongue and continue up, up, up—

Something cold meets the tips of my fingers.

I can just make out the raised jewels and jagged points beneath the caking of dirt.

A smile pulls at my cracked lips. I may not be able to see what it is I’ve found, but I know this symbol of power by feel alone.

With a steadying breath, I pull that coveted crown from the queen’s body.

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