Chapter twenty-two
Eavesdropping’s not the best shot
Elizabeth’s heart raced as she caught sight of Veronica; her breath ca in sharp, ragged gasps, betraying a sheer surprise that radiated from her wide eyes.
Across the chamber, Emily Jasmine's fingers dug into the bowstring of her arrows with such intensity that the blood drained from her knuckles, leaving them ghostly white.
Percy Harrison stood a few feet away, his hand pressed against his chest, disbelief etched onto his face like a mask of horror. Elizabeth felt an unsettling pang of isolation, realizing that she alone was adrift in the murky waters of uncertainty, oblivious to the cause of their trepidation.
"Calm down," Veronica managed to grind out through clenched teeth, shattering the stillness with a voice laced with strain. Her words hung heavy in the atmosphere, weighed down by the urgency they carried.
"I don’t understand why Odin would send us on this task," she continued, her voice alternating between steely resolve and tremors of fear.
"I’ve seen entire groups obliterated during this mission; it’s as deadly as the Ebola virus. We must remain united—our success could an liberation for our tribe or, conversely, our doom."
Elizabeth coughed slightly, a sound that felt far too loud in the tense air that surrounded them. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, trying to ease the palpable friction in the room.
“Um, I don’t know exactly how this should work, but I think the quicker we get this thing done, the better,” she suggested, her voice barely above a whisper yet laced with determination. Veronica’s eyes narrowed as she swung her gaze towards Elizabeth, disbelief etched on her face.
“You?” she exclaid, a hint of incredulity in her tone. “You think you can handle this? I’m trying to tell you that you need to stay behind.”
“Yep, I agree with Eliza,” Emily chid in, her resolve unwavering as she sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor. With deft fingers, she began to ticulously coat the sharp tips of her arrows with a deadly poison, each precise stroke glistening ominously in the dim light. The air slled of bitter herbs and sothing more sinister.
“Indeed, Veronica, give her a chance,” Percy added, his voice a low rumble that sought to balance the heated exchange. As he spoke, he polished his sword with care, the blade catching the light with a foreboding shine.
“We always do this, don’t we?”
Veronica shook her head, frustration evident in her posture. “She didn’t even get a pair of wings; that last pair only turned to ash. She’s not a true mber of our group,” she retorted, crossing her arms defensively.
“Hey, don’t be so harsh,” Percy interjected firmly, his voice steady as he glanced between the two won, trying to diate the tension.
Veronica sighed deeply, her expression softening montarily.
“I won’t care about what’s going to happen to you, but if you insist on going, just go,” she relented, her tone a cocktail of resignation and disbelief. “I can’t believe I let an unofficial whatnot join our mission.”
“Then why did you choose ?” Elizabeth pressed, her tone brave yet vulnerable, searching for answers. The question hung in the air, thick with unspoken emotions.
Veronica paused, caught off guard by the bluntness of Elizabeth’s inquiry.
“I couldn’t just dismiss you in front of so many,” she finally admitted, the truth escaping in a reluctant exhale.
“Anyway,” she continued, shifting gears as she turned to face the rest of the group, her hands clasped together as though in prayer, “Above all, keep this task secret.” Veronica’s voice dropped to a steely whisper, her eyes narrowing with intensity that felt like a warning echoing off the ancient stone walls. “This mission is crucial, and no one can know what we’re about to undertake.”
“Particularly from anyone in the Ethereal House. Trust no one—not even those who claim to stand with us. You are all dismissed."
One by one, they rose, the weight of unsaid words trailing behind them as they followed Veronica out of the dimly lit chamber. As they walked down the shadowy corridors, the echoes of Veronica's grave warnings swirled in Elizabeth’s mind like a relentless tempest, refusing to settle.
For two long months, she had trained, honing her skills with a fierce dedication. Yet now, a gnawing uncertainty gripped her; she was uncertain if she could bring herself to spill blood with her own hands.
Just then, she heard Veronica call her na, slicing through her spiraling thoughts.
Reluctantly, Elizabeth pivoted on her heel, a wave of apprehension flooding her as she braced for what would surely be another weighty conversation.
"Whatever you think I've done, I didn't do it, I've done nothing wrong, and—"
"I'm not punishing you!" Veronica said, leaning in closer. She lowered her voice and added,
“Look, I get that you’re worried about Victoria and that she’s in a tough spot. But you know, fighting isn’t a bad thing—it’s actually pretty noble. We just need to make sure we don’t hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it. You’ve got this—do it for Victoria, and for yourself. Don’t let her down.”
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Elizabeth's mind suddenly went blank.
She was montarily at a loss for words. Yet, in that instant, she felt genuinely cared for by a stranger, which was surprisingly comforting.
Perhaps this aggressive boss lady of the institute wasn't as eccentric as she initially looked.
Penelope was abruptly pulled from her confinent, the damp air clinging to her skin. As she was led through the dimly lit corridors, the flickering torches cast ominous shadows that danced on the walls, heightening her unease.
Finally, she entered a small, sparsely furnished room and took a mont to gather herself, inhaling deeply to steady her racing heart. Lucius stood in the center of the room, his imposing figure draped in dark robes. He regarded her with an intensity that both intrigued and unsettled her.
“Here, my dear,” he said softly, his voice smooth yet firm. “There’s sothing you need to accomplish.” He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle in her mind.
“The wife of the Dark Lord, Joanna the Great—they say she is dead. You must uncover the truth of her fate.”
Confusion clouded Penelope’s mind as she nodded slowly, trying to process the gravity of the mission laid before her. Questions swirled in her thoughts, but before she could voice them, Lucius stepped closer, wrapping a heavy blanket around her shoulders.
The warmth enveloped her, a small comfort against the chill that lingered in the air.
With a snap of his fingers, the world around her faded away like a distant mory.
Everything went blank.
At noon, the sun hung high in the vibrant sky, casting warm rays over the arena where Elizabeth stood, her arms tightly folded as she paced anxiously. The air was thick with tension when, suddenly, she was jolted from her thoughts by a voice rising sharply from the tent nearby.
Curiosity piqued, Elizabeth stepped closer, pressing her ear against the fabric of the tent door, the rough texture grounding her in the mont.
Eavesdropping might well be her only chance to glean critical information.
"How dare you show your face here and disturb my tribe?” Veronica’s voice bood, a storm brewing in her eyes.
Datura’s response was calm, but it oozed an unsettling vibe.
“Oh, co on, dear sister. Worrying about the little details isn't necessary. You’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
“What do you want from ?” Veronica asked, fists clenched, her agitation palpable.
“Think about Elizabeth for a mont. You need to get rid of her,” Datura said, her words sharp and deliberate like a blade.
“Why on earth would I do that?” Veronica retorted, her expression shifting from anger to disbelief, venom lacing her tone.
“Because, darling, I’ve tried everything—getting her kicked out of college, even a little backstage visit to her ho. She’s got to stay away from Alfheim, or she’ll ruin everything. The prophecy says our father’s legacy needs to carry on once she hits twenty-two!” Datura's voice climbed with each word, frustration seeping in.
“I even sent my loyal servant Christopher to deal with her quietly. Join in this, sister, or you might regret it. Your warriors are outmatched here,” she snapped, her breath quickening as if resisting was simply absurd.
“Seriously? If you’ve been so desperate to get rid of her, why are you asking ?” Veronica shot back, her disbelief still hanging in the air.
“Because that reckless Astral has thrown a wrench into everything,” Datura spat, annoyance boiling over.
"No wonder the Astral Soulblender hasn’t popped back in ages! What on Earth did you do to her?” Veronica’s voice trembled, mingling scorn with shock.
“Oh, nothing too serious. She just refused to spill any secrets, and the necklace… well, it ended up in the wrong hands. I need it back by midnight, or things could get ssy for you.”
Datura’s tone turned icy, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
“Not a chance! They’re under my protection, and you will not harm them!” Veronica shouted, her voice wavering with emotion as she pushed Datura away with fierce determination.
Elizabeth, heart pounding like a rapid drum, withdrew silently, the weight of Datura’s ominous declarations reverberating in her mind, a cold dread slipping through her veins. She instinctively reached for her necklace, the cool tal a reassuring link to Victoria’s presence, still nestled safely against her heart.
A deep breath escaped her lips, suffused with relief; she wouldn’t part with it—not now, not ever.
Upon her return to the comfort of her pearl-colored house, she found Emily, Veronica, and Percy gathered solemnly around the table. The flickering glow of candlelight danced across their features as Emily arranged tarot cards with precision, her movents graceful as she ignited a cluster of candles, the flas casting lively shadows that leaped about the walls.
Elaborate hexagrams sprawled across the floor, ticulously drawn with a feathered pen.
With a heavy heart, Elizabeth tossed her cloak onto a nearby hanger and sank onto the plush sofa, her body trembling as she buried her face in her hands, a flood of emotion overwhelming her.
“What happened?” Emily asked, a hint of concern threading through her voice, pausing from her preparations.
Veronica was seated in a shadowed corner, avoiding Elizabeth’s piercing gaze as guilt washed over her features. She finally stood, moving gingerly about the living room, glancing warily to ensure Datura wasn’t lurking nearby, and whispered,
"You’ve got to understand why wrapping up this task is super important. Have you ever wondered why we have to train for combat while the nonblenders in Ethereal just chill and party? Why are we risking our lives while they live it up in luxury?"
She paused, out of breath.
"The big difference between a soulblender and a nonblender? It's all about the purity of our souls. We carry the essence of a Norse god, which gives us these unique powers. The nonblender crowd actually looks down on us, blaming our existence for their troubles with the gods. Things got even worse when the Fairy Lord—a nonblender himself—took control. He captured a bunch of us for his twisted experints. So many lives were lost just because he was jealous of our magic and went off the deep end. Our only shot at hope is the Interstellar Crown, which has six shining jewels from space. This crown can unlock our hidden powers, but it also amps up the nonblenders' abilities. That’s why the Fairy Lord sent a bunch of them to find the jewels years ago. When they ca up empty-handed, he set his sights on us.
With urgency in her voice, Veronica leaned in closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing a big secret. “I really think that’s why your friend Victoria got captured. She must know sothing important about the Interstellar Crown. And about Datura—I swear I won’t let her harm you.”
Elizabeth lay on her bed, the cool sheets wrapping around her like a shroud as she gazed up at the ceiling, lost in thought late into the night. The rhythmic patter of rain drumd against the window panes, each drop competing with the soft flicker of the candelabras that struggled to illuminate the dimly lit room. Amidst the soothing sound of rain, a sudden shriek of pain pierced the silence. The sound echoed through the air, mingling with the rattling of chains that clinked ominously in the background.
Then, just as abruptly as it had begun, there was silence.
The stillness was heavy, hanging over her like a thick fog.
Sowhere high above, thunder bood as rain splashed down; sowhere far away, a friend waited alone in the darkness.
And Elizabeth won't let her down.
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