Page 9 of At the Mercy of Midnight
She gave him another nudge with her shoulder.
Silas looked back at her. His blue eyes searched her face for a moment before glancing down at where their arms touched. A small smile broke across his face. “Well, Winslow,”he said, “I always suspected you wanted to be closer to me, but this is a little excessive.”
Amelia rolled her eyes and pushed harder at his shoulder. “Shut up and keep moving.”
Silas continued forwards, but still managed to send her a smirk. “You know, I believe I read somewhere that prolonged exposure and proximity between individuals increases attraction towards one another.”
Amelia shifted along the rock wall behind him, her anger helping to quell some of her panic as she quipped back, “and I read somewhere that strangling a colleague may be legally justifiable in certain circumstances.”
Silas chuckled and then he was turning his body as the gap in the wall widened, and he stepped out into a clearing. He turned back to her. “No need for violence, Winslow. I promise that if you die in here, I’ll let you take all the credit for discovering the temple first.”
Amelia felt an immediate sense of relief as she was freed. She stood briefly, head tipped back, taking in a deep breath. When she had gathered herself, she found Silas watching her with a strange expression. Almost curious, penetrative, his eyes searching her face.
She frowned at him. “What?”
A small tilt to his lips had him looking like his usual self once again. “I’ll even have them write it on your tombstone,” he said with a wicked grin. “I do know how you love taking credit where it isn’t at all due.”
Amelia ignored him, brushing past him to where a large series of steps lead to the temple, intent on being the first to enter the ancient building.
It wasn’t until she neared the top step, breathless and sweaty, that she noticed it. The pulsing of something in the air that Amelia could feel inside her chest, could taste on hertongue. It was an otherness, something unnatural that seemed to breathe around them.
It was magic.
She swallowed as Silas caught up to her and they stood shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the gaping hole that must once have been a grand entrance to the temple before them.
“Do you feel that?” she asked quietly.
“Our undeniable chemistry?” Silas said, but his voice held none if its usual humour. He slid her a glance. “You must stop hitting on me, Winslow, it’s getting sad.”
She bit back a smile and shook her head at him. His ability to draw on humour even in such circumstances was beyond her, a trait that had always been out of her reach.
Amelia set her gaze back to the entrance and steadied herself. Gripping onto the straps of her backpack, she started forwards. Silas followed her, both of them alert to the pulsing of magic growing stronger.
Uncovering a new source of magic, one that might not belong to the Monoliths, would be the greatest coup in her lifetime and likely even beyond that. Magic, the one they had known for hundreds of years, was unravelling, and it was slowly consuming sections of their once beautiful landscapes.
Finding a way to stop the decay in the magic and the blight over the land was the highest priority among scientists and scholars all over Aethrial.
If she…they, were to discover a new source of magic, they may have a way to combat the growing darkness of the Rift, to stabilise their connection to the arcane and find a way to save them all.
They stopped just before the entrance, staring into the deep, dark cavern of the inner temple. It was an all-consuming darkness beyond, Amelia squinting to see beyond the two columns she could identify just inside.
She was terrified, yet her foot started forwards, eagerness for discovery compelling her.
A firm grip on her upper arm stopped her and Amelia turned to see Silas frowning into the dark opening of the temple.
“Wait, you utter moron,” he muttered, before he let her go. He shrugged off his pack and knelt to the floor. Amelia scowled at the top of his head as he rifled around and pulled out a small arcane lamp. The soft golden glow washed around them as he stood and held it up, before sending her a dry look. “Did you not consider for a moment where Rift Crawlers might dwell when the sun is out?”
Her mouth opened, a new fear injecting through her.
“I…I suppose I—”
“Didn’t think,” he finished for her, stepping past Amelia to head inside. “Always moving with your sheer competitiveness instead of using your head.”
She gripped the straps of her pack and glared at his back as he led them into the temple. Silas would never understand what truly drove her ambition. Hewouldguess that it was all about him, the competitiveness between them, the arrogant man that he was.
They moved slowly, Silas holding the lamp high, inspecting the entrance walls and columns for any signs of the Gemino Tribe.
The pulsing magic became thick, as though dampening the dry air of the desert.
