Page 54 of Virelai's Hoard
With a sharp nod, Gadrielle followed. Nyxen lingered behind, staring at the lake. Calla glanced at what had gotten his attention, doing a double take when she saw Draven approaching the water.
Draven’s face was blank as he walked, as if in a daze. The water rippled. Calla’s skin crawled. “There’s something there,” he said. “It’s calling.”
Itwascalling. Calla felt it too, tugging at her limbs, whispering sweet release if she’d just let go. She’d assumed it was her selkie side, but she might have been wrong this entire time. Had the craving been this bad back on the Moonshadow?
“Draven!” she shouted after him. “Leave it! Let’sgo.”
He didn’t hear her at all.
As Draven’s boot sank in the water with a squelch, Nyxen shook himself out of his frozen state and made to go after him.
Do not let him. That one cannot be saved. Or would you feed the both of them to the lake? What use do these humans serve to you, besides holding you back?
Calla’s hand shot out, grabbing Nyxen’s arm and stopping him in place–her grip vice-like, not to be argued with.
“Don’t,” she said, as if through a haze.
What was that? Was that truly her? Was her heart that dark, that she could think that?
Nyxen shot her a disbelieving glare. Draven kept walking, the water up to his knees. The others watched him with bated breath. “He’s going to die!”
“He’s already dead.” It was Gadrielle this time, her voice a hush as she looked on.
There was nothing else they could do.
Nyxen tried to get out of Calla’s grip, but she didn’t let him.
They all watched as the water made it to Draven’s waist. Then past his belly. He stopped, his lips moving–murmuring something to the water, to something beneath. In the next moment, he tilted his head, listening. Suddenly he turned his face up to the suns and laughed loudly, as if he’d been told a joke. That was when the hands reached out, gripping his clothes, his shoulders, his head. They dragged him into the water. Draven went down still laughing. The laughter turned to gurgles as the water passed his chin, and died off. Only air bubbled up in its stead.
And then everything was still.
Calla let go of Nyxen’s arm. He didn’t move. He just stared.
“We could’ve saved him,” he said quietly, not meeting anyone’s eyes.
After long moments of silence, something shifted in the air, as if a wrong had been righted.
“Look,” Gadrielle said, frowning.
The lake… shrank. In front of their eyes, the water drained, the soil beneath suddenly a dry sponge, impossible to satisfy. In moments, it was all gone.
The stone path lay empty and dry ahead of them.
An invitation.
They looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. As they walked along the path, there was no sign of corpses–no sign of Draven. No one talked until they reached the altar in the middle.
It was more of a stone pillar than an altar, half buried in the ground, moss crawling at its feet. Strangely familiar symbols covered every inch of it, and its top was a smooth, even cut. Somehow Calla knew something used to lie there. Was she too late? Had someone else already found the clue?
At the thought that this had all been for nothing, Calla’s chest tightened. Her breathing came fast.
“Here,” Gadrielle said from the other side of the pillar. She’d been circling it, and now she was crouched down at its back, picking something up. As she stood again, she handed it to Calla. “I think this is what we’re looking for. Or part of it, at least.”
The item was a piece of a stone tablet, not unlike the one Calla already owned. As soon as she touched it, her fingertips skimming familiar warnings spelled in an unfamiliar language, she knew Gadrielle to be right. A piece was missing, though.
“Search the grounds, see if there’s anything else,” she instructed the others, packing the tablet away.
When Aelion drooped in the sky and nothing else was found, they headed back down the path they came.
