Page 99 of At the Mercy of Midnight
Deep wells of snow carved out by a large party of people. The direction they had gone was clear.
Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, Amelia moved quickly, following the tracks in the snow while trying not to keel over from the violent shivers that wracked her body.
She walked on for a while, eyes downcast at the footprints, mind whirring with the possibilities of what she could be walking into. If she reached it before freezing to death.
That didn’t sound like a fun way to go.
Out of the darkness, a dim light appeared, growing as she approached.
Amelia came to a stop in front of the gaping mouth of a cave. A lamp swung in the heavy wind, the metal creaking with each sway.
No-one stood guard, but she still approached cautiously.
The first indication of trouble struck her just before she stepped into the cave.
A soft droning, curling in her ears, alerting her to the steady thrum of magic somewhere nearby. Amelia stilled, foot hovering over the patch of ground where snow merged into dirty cavern floor.
Amelia pressed her lips together, breath catching in her throat, before she backed up a few steps.
Following the sound, the soft humming led to the side of the cave’s mouth. Crouching, Amelia spotted the runed crystal sunk into the stone wall.
She interpreted the rune with ease.
Warning.
If she entered the cave, whoever was inside would be alerted to her presence. She whispered words for deactivation, but nothing happened. They could have linked any word to the crystal. Amelia could crouch there and say words for days and still not conjure the correct one.
Groaning with frustration, Amelia rose to her feet, feeling utterly useless. She heard no other sounds or indication of human presence. The cave ahead was shrouded in darkness. She stood there, shivering, and feeling sorry for herself, trying not to imagine what Silas was enduring that very moment. The helplessness pressed down like a weight.
She drifted to the swaying lamp, drawn to its glow. She stood beneath it, staring up, her thoughts a jumble. She had no weapons, no Waystone chips, nothing and no one to help her.
If her magic worked the way it was supposed to, perhaps she wouldn’t feel so alone.
When she concentrated, she could feel it there, sitting dormant in her blood, simmering faintly, as though waiting. Watching. Wanting.
Amelia wanted to know what it felt like, whether it was similar to Silas’, or if it would differ. Would it project outwards, or would it be something else entirely?
Her mind drifted to the Southern Monolith, it's jagged silhouette sharp in her memory, so different from the northern version. The obsidian surface that devoured all light, all warmth. Her fingers brushed over the empty holster at her hip, as though seeking the blade it had housed. She could only assume their magic would be different, too.
The lamp she stared at flickered, and she blinked, coming out of the reverie. It might have been her imagination, but the lamp seemed dimmer.
Something inside her stirred, a flicker of power.
Swallowing, Amelia narrowed her focus on the lamp. On a hunch, she sank back into the state of concentration, picturing the Monolith, the overwhelming darkness and the power it emanated.
It happened again, more pronounced, and obvious. The lamp weakened again, glow faltering, and in the same instant, she felt it. The magic sliding into her, quiet and sure.
Breathless, Amelia reached out a trembling hand, fingertips grazing the side of the lamp. The light flowed into her like a tide, filling her. It saturated every inch of her with something warm, something right.
She stumbled back as the lamp went dark, surroundings swallowed by shadows. Her chest heaved, overwhelmed by the intensity of the feeling, like she could do anything.
Turning sharply, she jogged back to the warning crystal, kneeling before it. She placed her hand flat against it, no hesitation this time.
The transfer happened more instinctively, the magic flowing into her. When she drew her hand back, the crystal was dead, grey, and empty.
She stared at her palm, wonder blooming in her chest.
Silas pushed the magic away from his body, an outwards blast of power. She pulled it in, breathing it like the air around her.
