Chapter thirty-four
The lead saved the day
The Chira was getting closer; Elizabeth could feel its coiling breath puffing above her. It roared and breathed fire toward them.
Tension choked the air.
Elizabeth rolled over to avoid being crushed under its feet. She scrambled toward the inner cave, kneeling on the ground, and rummaging frantically through her pockets.
“What the heck are you doing? The beast’s gonna kill !” Datura let out a horrible shriek that echoed through the cave, shattering the walls.
Elizabeth knew it was just a matter of ti before the Chira found them.
She scread back anxiously, “Lead!”
“What the hell—” Datura shrieked, yet a groan cut her off, drawing her voice.
What followed was a terrible scream and the noise of flesh being torn apart.
Elizabeth got the lead hidden in her pockets and darted back to the cave.
She could make out Morris’s faint outline as he stuck his back to the walls, his arms drenched with blood, scarlet soaking his shirt. The bloody fangs inches away from his contorted face, a note of blood hung in the air.
Elizabeth shot out her dagger, stabbing straight into the Chira’s neck. The monster roared and turned to face her.
Elizabeth picked up Datura’s sword, which was lying in the corner, pierced through the lead, and threw the spears into the Chira’s mouth.
The lead lted in the heat and slid down the Chira’s throat. The monster snarled in agony. It collided with the ground, distorting. Elizabeth raised her hands, summoning even more intense flas. The ground beneath them rumbled, quaked in tension, and the narrow pathway leading deeper into the cave descended further; beneath their feet, the terrain began rising steadily upwards, steepened into a sharp, steep slope.
The Chira howled in rage and slid into the depths, bounced off the walls in a sickening crunch. Elizabeth swiftly waved her hands, conjuring a magical barrier between them and the beast.
After eliminating the Chira, Elizabeth hurried toward Morris. She took a napkin and gently wiped the blood from his chin. She then extended her palms, releasing a beam of silvery light that flickered over Morris’s body. As her lips uttered the incantation, dazzling white radiance emanated from her hands to the deep gushes that curved harshly over Morris, enveloping him in its soft glow. Slowly but effectively, his wounds began to close, blood began to fade, and his distorted face eased in relaxation. Within seconds, the blood that sared over his shirt was rinsed, and Morris whispered faintly to her, “Thanks a lot.”
Elizabeth reached out and hoisted himself up.
“Datura Jasmine?”
There was no answer.
Her voice echoed through the cave, bouncing from wall to wall, yet no one was answering.
Suspiciously, Elizabeth glanced around, yet Datura was nowhere to be found.
Then, Elizabeth turned to Morris, “Why don’t you just leave? You could use the Teleport Door—wait—”
“She brought you here, right? She tried to kill you, right? And no one would ever know if we died, she could just make up a lie and tell everyone we got eaten by the Chira. So why?”
Morris shook his head mournfully.
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He gazed at the ceiling, and Elizabeth could see tears welling in his eyes.
“It’s just—well—nothing.” He finally managed.
Taking her hands, Morris pulled her into the Teleport Door, and they vanished in a flash of light.
With a heavy sigh, Penelope descended the ladder, her heart thumping with a mix of defeat and confusion.
Was this magic really as simple as throwing an orb and speaking ancient words?
Or was it more about the intent behind those actions?
In wrestling with her thoughts, Penelope beca acutely aware of a sudden buzzing sound invading her thoughts, a low hum that danced just at the edges of her consciousness.
Was that the souls of the so-called ‘soulblenders', those wretched beings huddled in dark corners of the world, plotting their rise against the mighty nonblenders?
Was it possible they believed they could overthrow their oppressors with so insidious sche?
Who did they think they were, daring to challenge a kingdom built on the power of light?
Did they not realize the futility of their ambition, the sheer audacity of imagining a world where terror could reign supre?
They deserved everything they had coming—cast out from the Ethereal House, imprisoned in dark, damp cells where their wicked plans would never again see the light of day.
Who were they to threaten her world?
Penelope felt a surge of anger blossoming within her; she wanted justice, revenge, and a taste of righteous power. A vision of their beheaded figures flashed through her mind—wouldn’t that be the ultimate satisfaction, a ans of ensuring they could never rise again?
As these thoughts spiraled through her, a beep emanated from the tattoo encircling her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.
Elizabeth blinked a few tis, trying to shake off the lingering heaviness of the whatnot had just evaded her. As her feet touched the cool, solid ground, she suddenly realized she was back in the hall, the familiar old stone walls surrounding her.
“Hey! You’re back!” Emily exclaid, practically bouncing over with a grin that could rival the sun on a clear sumr day. The air was thick with relief, and just as they were about to sink into the plush, oversized chairs and let the weight of the world slip away, a flash of darkness caught their eye—a shadow nacingly stretched across the doorway. “What now?” Elizabeth murmured, irritation lacing her voice as she rolled her eyes. She recognized that voice all too well, and it turned her stomach a little.
“Jessica, honey?” Carlos cooed from behind that ominous shadow, his tone dripping with a sweetness that sent shivers down Elizabeth’s spine.
Josephine froze, her eyes going wide as saucers, an instinctive rush of wariness washing over her. “What do you want, Carlos?” she shot back, keeping her posture defensive, as if bracing herself for an unexpected blow. She took a half-step back, but there was nowhere to hide.
“Oh, co on! Don’t be like that! I just want to have a little chat, just the two of us,” he replied, an infuriating smirk creeping onto his face. He unrolled a piece of parchnt in a way that felt way too dramatic, like it was so kind of secret weapon he could unleash. Before Josephine had the chance to gather her thoughts or even weigh her options, Carlos lunged forward. He grabbed her by the collar and yanked her out of the doorway like she was just a doll ant to be tossed aside.
There was a dull thud as she hit the wall, and the tension in the room beca palpable. The candidates, having erged from the backstage all ruffled and panting, froze at the scene. Narcissus, looking distinctly out of breath, strode right up to them and opened the tissue box Josephine had casually tossed aside earlier. Elizabeth, feeling a tickle in her nose, snagged a few tissues and started to blow her nose. But she suddenly halted, her heart racing.
Wait, hold on.
There was sothing else nestled among the tissues—a golden letter glinting in the dim light. Curiosity piqued, she plucked it out.
The words scrawled in bold red ink caught her eye: “Co and listen if you want.”
“Guys, we need to check this out,” Elizabeth whispered urgently, glancing at Penelope and a few others. Nods of agreent spread like wildfire, and together they slipped out of the hall, tiptoeing around the corner and down the quiet corridor. They paused at a closed door, muffled voices seeping through the cracks. Elizabeth pressed her ear against the wood, straining to catch snippets of the heated exchange unfolding on the other side.
“Seriously, how could you pull that off? First, you left buried in the Ginnunga for ages, and now you’re crashing the Election Campaign? What gives, Carlos? Is this how you repay ?” Josephine exclaid, her voice loaded with irritation.
“Hey, Jo, chill out for a sec!” Carlos retorted, giving Josephine a bit of a shove to move her aside.
“Look, Dolores is missing, and guess what? I actually saw her today! Right here! You’d better have seen her too, or I swear—what, you thought you could just keep her out of the Ethereal House and stash the heirloom? You really think ti’s on your side while she plots to snag the painting?”
Josephine rolled her eyes. “So what? Yeah, I saw her. Even Veronica did! What’s your ga plan here, Carlos?”
“I just want Dolores, that’s it. And she needs to vanish by midnight,” he said, his voice going ice cold. Josephine shot him a look, her eyes narrow with defiance. “And what if I say no?”
“Then let’s just say, all your little sweethearts won’t make it ‘til tonight.”
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