Page 50 of Alpha Exile

Inhaling sharply, he nods. Then he strides forward, the rest of us close at his heels. I watch a dozen emotions cross his face as he peers into the darkness: anxiety, anticipation, fear, confusion—then finally, desperation and hope.

"I see him," Kieran says, wonder and desire in his voice. "She brought him this way. We can use this tunnel to get him back."

Twenty-One

Delilah

Bring him back.

Those are the words that echo in my mind as we descend into the darkness once again. Hunger gnaws my stomach, the energy bar I had doing little to pass for a meal, but I don't care. I push on, four of my five mates at my back, determined to get to Roarke.

We dive deep into the caverns at an accelerated rate this time. The ground slopes harshly beneath my feet, urging us onward. But unlike the other tunnels, these are rougher, twisting and narrow in places. Tall as they are, the guys have to duck more than once to get through.

After what feels like an hour of walking, the tunnels suddenly level out and widen. It happens so quickly that I stop and look back, blinking at the transition between jagged edges in the rough stone to the smooth walls ahead of me.

And this time, instead of just glowing blue lichen along the walls, there are soft white lights set into small recesses in front of us.

"Someone has passed through here before," Lance murmurs, stepping up to one of the recesses and wiping his finger along the light fixture there, which is connected to no wires or electricity but gives off light regardless. "There's thick dust on the surface of this. It's some kind of glass, but I can't tell what kind. Or how it's glowing."

"It must be magic." I pace over to one of the recesses to take a look myself. The light is soft and gentle, enough to illuminate a few steps ahead and behind, not so bright that it bothers my eyes to get this close. "Whatever spell it is, someone set it to last for a long time, because it doesn't look like anyone has touched this in decades."

"No one could have." Finn motions behind us, where a cave-in blocks off the rear entrance of the tunnel. The way we came through runs perpendicular, going around the blockage. "We should be careful. These tunnels may look safe, but they could be unstable. Especially if there's any kind of earthquake or disruption."

All the more reason to keep moving, which is what we do as soon as we've established that we're still alone down here.

The light fixtures aren't the only things that we find. Further down the hallway are alcoves, some of which have tattered old sheets and bits of stuffing that might've once been slim mattresses. Others have worn pillows and shelves carved into the stone. There are only a few with books remaining on the shelves, which make it easier to figure out who built this place. All of them are spell books, thick and dust-covered in my hands.

"The coven must have lived here once." Looking to Kieran, I ask, "Can you see any of them?"

He squints and looks around, then shakes his head after a long moment. "I'm not sure exactly how it works, but I think I can only see significant or monumental pieces of the past. Either nothing monumental happened here, or it happened so far back that I can't see it."

Bastian offers another explanation. "Or there were wards around this entire place. We know from Delilah's Aunt Kerry that the coven used wefts and shields to keep Delphine from escaping. It wouldn't be surprising if they used the same sort of magic to protect themselves from magical spying."

"I wonder why she didn't tell me about this place," I murmur, flipping open the cover of a small spell book to discover recipes for potions on the inside. "It would've been nice to know it was here."

"She may not have known herself," Finn points out. "From what she told us about the coven's history, there weren't many witches left after the pack turned on them. Maybe this place was abandoned after that—or even earlier, if the cave-ins caused them to move to different parts of the mountain."

Both explanations make perfect sense. It's hard to tell which one fits, because the books have anti-mold and pest spells scribbled on the inside of their covers, and are in pristine shape despite the dust covering them. We find nearly a dozen spell books total, which Lance and Bastian split between them and store in their sacks.

One of the alcoves is larger than normal, and calls our attention. It's big enough that the guys and I are able to all duck inside and stand in the center, though we're slightly crowded together. There's a small carved out space on the far wall, and a large stone bench, with rusted iron tools on it that take me a long moment to understand.

"This was a forge." Blinking, I look around and imagine it as it must have once been: a grate on what must be a fireplace opposite me, racks hanging on the walls, and a witch, sitting on the bench and firing up her smithy. "It must be. I wonder if it was the forge where Gregor's dagger was created. Though I don't know why it would be so deep inside a mountain."

Pacing over to the fireplace, Finn ducks his head and checks inside it. "There's a chimney here. No idea how far up it goes, but that's exactly what it must be."

"I can see something in here." The excitement of Finn's voice catches my attention. He's skimming the bench and the fireplace with his eyes, focusing on things I can't see myself. "There were women here—witches, casting flames with their hands like Delilah does, and using tongs to smelt metals. I think... I think one of them is talking about the Spirit Eyes."

He squints for a long moment, then adds in wonder, "I think I just saw a ghost. In the past, I mean—I think I saw them summon a spirit."

"You did, and I see one too, right here and right now." Bastian blinks, staring at the bench with an unnerved expression on his face. "The spirits don't like this place. It's where some of them were bound. To the gemstones, I assume—this ghost is stuck here because the binding ceremony was never completed, so she... she can never leave."

Swallowing, I ask Bastian, "Does she pose a threat, do you think?"

"No." He cocks his head, listening for a long moment. "Though she doesn't have great opinions of witches. Apparently the coven that lived here experimented with spirits—they're drawn to this place after they die, and easy to control with certain types of necromancy.

"The witches used their energy to power spells, and also experimented with binding them to physical objects. It was the gemstones that worked the best. They discovered that they could keep ancient secrets around by binding the spirits of the dead who possessed that knowledge, and they created the Spirit Eyes."

"Is that how the Elder statues came to be?" I ask him, my pulse thrumming. "Ask her that."

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