Page 23 of Witchlight
Cam choseupas their destination becauseupwas away from the tunnel filled with ice—and the new doors—andupwould eventually lead to the Sightwitch Sister Convent and freedom from this mountain.
Vivia insisted the Hell-Bards lead their ascent, and they were amenable. If they sensed Vivia or Cam didn’t trust them, they gave no sign of it. And when Vivia probed them about who had made their map, they only ever had one answer:It came with the letters.
And who gave you the letters?
Safiya fon Cartorra, of course.
There was a missing piece there—Vivia felt it. As did Cam’s gut, since the first time Zander answered this question, Cam hung back to whisper: “There’s somethin’ wrong about that reply.”
“Any idea what?”
“No, Majesty.” A grimace on his shadowed face. “But I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”
The boy thought of nothing before they left the stairs. Nor did Vivia. In fact, soon all her focus was on simplynot passing out.The stairs weren’t steep, but there were hundreds upon hundreds of them, always cast in sputtering firelight and darkness. Vivia’s thighs shrieked at her. Her spine too, under the weight of her pack.
Eventually the stairs gave way to a snaking tunnel lit with foxfire. It was roughly hewn, almost a circle in the earth like a giant worm had once come this way.
After taking a brief pause to drink from Vivia’s single canteen and the Hell-Bards’ two water bags—almost empty now—Cam spotted Vivia frowning. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “There’s water in the workshop. We can refill there.”
This was a relief, and Vivia quickly translated Cam’s words for the others. Which prompted Lev to moan her joy before draining off the rest ofher water. Zander, however, only nodded soberly. And also only sipped once, before returning the bag to his hip.
He caught Vivia watching him as he did so, and she took the chance to say something she’d wanted to from the start: “You are Hell-Bards no longer. We heard the magic that bound you was destroyed. That you ’re all witches once more.”
“Yes,” he agreed with a bow of his head.
Vaness stiffened nearby. “You can control plants once more, Zander? And Lev, you can heal?”
“Sort of.” Lev grimaced as she buckled her water bag to her hip. “It comes in spurts. We aren’t comfortable with it yet, are we, Zan?” She glanced at her partner, and it hadn’t escaped Vivia’s notice that Lev was the chattier half of their pair—yet when Zanderdidspeak, everyone homed in to listen.
Just as they did right now. Even Cam, who couldn’t speak Cartorran, slanted toward the giant.
“I miss being outside,” Zander said. The foxfire throbbed around him. “But being here, without grass and trees and leaves, is still so much better than it ever was without any magic at all.”
Vivia’s shoulders tensed toward her ears at those words. She’d spent weeks fighting the temptation of her tides. It had not been easy, and she’d wished so desperately that this deluge might cease so she once more could savor her tides and rivers and rains.
Even that, though—that pained resistance thatshechose—was infinitely better than having no connection to her magic at all. Right now, she could feel the water in Zander’s bag. Just a few mouthfuls that sang to her, as did the water in her own pack. But what would it feel like if those songs were gone?
Without her Tidewitchery, she was nothing. Not a little fox, and certainly not a bear.
She rubbed at her Witchmark—as did the Empress a few steps away—before murmuring that Zander and Lev could keep walking. Vivia wanted out of this mountain. No more breaks, if she could avoid it.
It was another half hour before they reached the room labeledWorkshop. Cam’s guidance had led them true. With multiple floors and stairwells, with shelves and tables and books in countless shapes and sizes, the space was everything Vivia could imagine might fill an experimental laboratory. Papers, glass bottles, metal contraptions. All of it perfectly immobile, perfectly untouched by time.
And all of it lit by foxfire. Hundreds of fungal fans climbed over thespace, on the walls and ceilings and shelves. The glow was so bright, Vivia had to squint at first to even see as she stalked inside. Her hands came to her eyes.
A child giggled.
Vivia snapped her hands down. Her breaths turned scattershot as she glanced around, searching the shadows. But there was no one there. Only Cam and Vaness hurrying in behind her. Then the Hell-Bards too.
“Water!” Lev cried as she launched through the workshop to a series of pumps on the walls. “It looks just like the prince’s lab, doesn’t it, Zan? Maybe we can find a flying machine in here too. Although, I guess that wouldn’t be too useful if we can’t get out of the mountain.”
Zander didn’t respond, and rather than follow Lev to the pumps, he turned to stare at Vivia. His eyes, which had seemed auburn in the stairwell’s firelight, now looked green. His beard too, and his faintly freckled skin.
She had the sudden suspicion he might have heard the child’s laughter as she had.
“There’s a spell on the room,” Cam said in Nubrevnan, nudging in closer to Vivia. He hugged his arms over his chest. “A preservation spell. That’s what Ryber told me, and it’s why there’s no dust, no spiders, no nothing. It’s all exactly like Eridysi left it.”
“Eridysi,” Vaness repeated, and now she huddled to Vivia’s other side. “How is that even possible? How isanyof this possible?”
