Page 125 of House of Crimson Hearts
I grab Red’s hand.
“You afraid?” she whispers.
“No. But I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Moments later, we step into a giant clearing in front of a building. It’s made of huge boulder-like standing stones, the light grey stark against the dark tree roots that weave between them and the green moss and foliage that adorns their edges and the ground.
The building towers up into the trees behind it.
“What was this place?” Red whispers.
“Looks like a temple or some sort of religious building.”
“Not recent though. Not the Mother of Blood,” she says under her breath.
I shake my head. “No, this is much, much older. It has to be for the witch-gods, the dhampirs.” I check the map again and locate the structure’s entrance to try to orient the page to the building in front of us. But it’s so derelict it takes me a second to figure out the right angle.
“There,” Red says, pointing at a half collapsed opening about twenty feet away.
We rush across the clearing. She attempts to go first, but I pull her behind me. “No. I can’t die. I go first.”
“We can all die, you told me that yourself.”
“Yes, but it’s considerably harder to kill me than it is you,” I growl, wishing she would just let me protect her.
“Fine,” she relents and lets me pass in front of her.
I step into the darkness and pause knowing it will take a moment or two for Red’s eyes to adjust. Mine, of course, are far more adept at seeing without light.
We creep through the broken entrance into a corridor, the walls a mess of damp moss, tree roots and strange markings on the stone.
The air is cool and sticky, an odd sensation on my skin.
“Are we going to remember the way out?” she says, her voice a little higher than normal.
“I’m remembering.”
“You better, this is the kind of shit in my nightmares.”
We wind our way through the building until we find ourselves in a circular room. An occupied circular room.
“Fuck,” she hisses behind me as we come face-to-face with the rest of the teams. “We’re late.”
“Apparently so.”
Before us, the other four teams are spread out in a standoff. In the centre of the room is a plinth formed of the same stone boulders as the building. And on its surface, raised on a silver stand, is an amulet.
Despite the years it must have spent here in isolation, the talisman shines bright. A green crystal rests in the centre of the shiny onyx metal. It’s only when I step up to the same point the others are at, I realise the metal isn’t plain. It’s inlaid with a delicate filigree style pattern shaped with keys. The green stone isn’t a crystal either, but some kind of vial containing green liquid.
“Well, well, well, this is a problem, isn’t it?” Dahlia snarls.
Besides her, Lincoln’s eyes meet Red’s. His face is harder than I’ve seen before. Normally, he’s chiselled and handsome, but now he seems sharp and hard.
“Lincoln?” Red says.
“Red,” he nods, but his expression isn’t the friendly one he usually gives her.
She glances up at me, worry written in the frown creasing her forehead.
