Page 76 of The Witch and His Crow

‘Wehaven’t found anything,’ I replied, nodding towards Arwyn who stood before a wall of ivy. ‘He did.’

The ivy rose before him, violently green and overwhelming. It first looked like some overgrown shrub, until he reached up, grasped a vine by the hand and pulled. What peeled away was a layer of greenery, root, and dried vine, revealing smooth stone beneath.

‘What ominous graveyard doesn’t have a haunted looking mausoleum?’ Romy asked, grimacing as she took a step back. ‘Clearly that thing was meant to be hidden by nature. Let’s leave it and the ghosts inside alone, shall we?’

‘After what we’ve faced so far, a few ghosts shouldn’t bother us,’ Arwyn said, pulling more vines down until a worn, dark wooden door was revealed. It was locked with bindings of rusted chain looped over and over, tangled amongst the iron handles.

‘That’s a rather intense binding,’ I said, feeling the weight of the chains in my palm. Each knot was bigger than my hand. Rust came away on my fingers, as did the smell of age and musk.

‘Clearly those chains are meant to keep whatever is in there…in.’ Romy stepped back, hands raised in surrender.

‘Or to keep us out,’ I added.

‘If that is what I think it is, I’ve found our rune,’ Arwyn cocked his head towards the stone wall above the door. And there, etched into the stone was a deep grove, was a singular rune shape. A diagonal line sliced through what looked to be a letter P.

I pulled Eleanor’s grimoire from my pocket and flicked through the pages until I got to the right one. My eyes roamed over the page, searching for the meaning of the rune.

‘Safe travels,’ I said, double checking it against what was before me, ‘that’s what the rune correlates to.’

‘Only further proof that it suggests what is inside isn’t safe,’ Romy added.

‘Actually, what it suggests is we have a little journey ahead of us,’ Arwyn replied, tugging on the chains which rattled loudly. ‘I don’t suppose you have a spell to open locked doors in there, do you?’

‘We’ll need old magic for that.’ I rolled my shoulders, glad for an excuse to use my Gift. ‘And I have something better.’

I didn’t need a mirror to know my eyes flashed with their silver band. It felt good to exercise my power. There was little encouragement required for it to rise to the call. I wrapped it around the cords of chains, binding myself to the metal like invisible hands reaching out. Then, with a dramatic pull, my power tore the chains free, allowing them to slither to the steps beyond the mausoleum like exhausted snakes.

‘Show off,’ Arwyn whispered, sweeping his hand before him. ‘After you.’

‘Such a gentleman,’ I bit back.

‘No way, no. Not happening.’ Romy had her arms crossed, shaking her head. ‘You both go, have fun, by all means knock yourself out. I’ll happily be out here, in the daylight, leaving the dead in peace, thank you very much.’

I opened my mouth, ready to give a lecture on why it wasn’t safe to separate, but Romy stopped me with a glare.

‘Don’t even try it,’ Romy added. ‘I’m more than capable of looking after myself. I’d go so far to say I’m better off facing fresh flesh then rotten skin.’

‘Point taken.’ I’d seen Romy’s Gift first handed. ‘Just shout if you need us.’

‘Trust me when I say, it’ll be the shout of the idiot who tries me today. Their scream will be what alerts you to any issues.’ Romy brushed leaves from the step outside the mausoleum with her boot, then took a seat. ‘Go have fun. Don’t rush back for my sake.’

I noticed Arwyn was awfully quiet, offering no help with convincing Romy to join us. He either knew not to question her ability to look after herself, or he liked the concept of being alone…with me. I told myself it was the first option, as the second would stop me from going inside as well.

Blue light stole my attention as Arwyn conjured a ball of fire in his outstretched hand. He extended it into the cavernous dark beyond the door, which opened with a groan. He didn’t notice Romy’s suggestive wink, but I did. I turned my back on her, beginning to believe her fear of ghosts was fabricated as a ploy to get me alone with Arwyn.

It worked.

The air was dank inside the mausoleum. Sconces clung to crumbling stone walls, more home for spiders and their webs than fire. Arwyn was cautious where he walked, testing the ground before putting his weight on it. His azure-hued flames banished the shadows away, revealing a raised burial vault in the centre of the space. Beside it, there was nothing else to suggest anything of importance. It was simply a stone room with the dead at its heart.

‘Looks like our travel has come to an end,’ I said, voice echoing around me. Beside the distant drip of water, this place was lacking sound. And yet it seemed to seal us away from the outside world. ‘Should we turn?—’

‘Just because something isn’t interesting to look at, doesn’t suggest there isn’t something interesting to find.’ Arwyn walked around the vault, hand lifted towards the sides. From the satisfied sigh he gave, Arwyn found what he was looking for. He stopped and flashed me a winning grin. ‘Come have a look at this.’

I did as he asked, pacing towards him, aware of how he watched my every move. His finger pointed towards yet another rune mark which had been worn into the stone. This one was small and faint, as though a fingernail had created it. Unease itched over my damp skin at the thought. I found the page in the grimoire, leaning closer to Arwyn to utilise his conjured light. If I hadn’t been so focused on searching for the rune and its meaning, I might’ve paid more attention to how cold his fire was.

‘Thurisaz,’ I said, tracing my nail beneath the explanation. ‘Defence, conflict, and caution. Seems like another warning.’

‘It does.’ Arwyn stood up, forcing me to do the same. ‘Are you frightened of the dark?’

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