I am aware of that. Watch the first step—it is deeper than it looks.
I gripped the cold metal handrail and stepped down into the stairwell. The shadows seemed deeper for some reason, and tension rolled through me. While I wished we could use the swords to light our way, that would only be a warning to whoever—whatever—might lay below that we were coming.
Azriel headed down cautiously. I followed, keeping close to his back, Amaya’s mutterings a sharp accompaniment to the gathering sense of expectation.
Azriel reached the final step and paused. I peered over his shoulder. Ahead in the distance light glowed, but it was a strange blue-black color that flickered and danced. Candlelight.
Yes. And the energy comes from the room at the end of this hall, as well.
And you still can’t sense anything?
No. He glanced at me. But if there is candlelight, then someone has lit it.
Maybe. And maybe not. After all, we were dealing with someone who had the capability of making transport stones. Just because she had been here didn’t mean she still was.
We crept on. The long corridor was narrow, meaning even if I had wanted to walk beside him, I couldn’t. My grip tightened on Amaya and her background noise ratcheted up. The odd violet-black light continued to dance and flicker, and my skin crawled. I might not be able to sense the energy or magic that Azriel was, but something still felt very wrong.
We reached the open doorway. Azriel stopped, forcing me to do the same. Flames flickered briefly down Valdis’s blade, but they were very similar in color to the light that crawled from the room beyond, and almost unnoticeable.
Anything? I asked.
Only the candles. He glanced at me. Which only makes me suspect something is, indeed, here. Watch our backs.
I licked my lips and nodded. He stepped into the room, then paused, body tense. Nothing happened. I pressed my back against the wall and followed him in. The room was largish but unlike the other underground chambers we’d discovered, as there was no shelving here, either hewn into the walls or freestanding. There was a table, and markings on the floor I suspected were incantations of some kind, but no pentagram and certainly no altar.
There were, however, two cuneiform stones. They were smaller, darker, than their kin, and had once stood in a square windowless room within a property that had been inhabited by several—now dead—Razan.
At least we now knew where the damn things had gone. But did that mean this space was a recently created one? The etchings on the floor didn’t look new, but that didn’t mean all that much.
Light flickered in the middle of the room, brighter and fiercer than the candlelight. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, but it sent my pulse rate into overdrive. Something was very definitely about to happen, and I really wasn’t sure either of us should be here when it did.
Then perhaps you should follow instinct and leave, Azriel said.
We’ll never find our sorceress if I give in to the urge to run, I replied, perhaps more tartly than I should have. Besides, whatever is waiting here, I’m sure it would be better faced with two swords rather than one.
He didn’t comment, but his displeasure echoed through me. We edged farther into the room. Again light flickered, and I realized—with more than a little trepidation—that it was coming from the floor. Or rather, from the etched markings on the floor. I paused, watching an oddly dirty beam of light slip through the various markings and race toward the stones. Nothing happened when it reached them. It just disappeared into the middle of them. The stones weren’t active, so the light could hardly have traveled anywhere, but that didn’t stop the crawling sense of unease from getting stronger.
Azriel stopped so abruptly I ran into him. He reached back to steady me, but his concentration was on a spot several feet ahead of us.
What’s wrong? I frowned at the spot, but whatever it was he was seeing or feeling, I wasn’t.
That foul energy I mentioned? It lies within arm’s length of us.
What is it doing?
Nothing. It simply sits there. He took one step sideways, his eyes narrowed. It could be some sort of barrier, given it forms a protective semicircle around the standing stones.
Air stirred, and the hairs along the back of my neck rose. I shot a glance over my shoulder, but I couldn’t see anything or anyone. But that seemed to be a running theme in this place, at least for me. Amaya, is there anyone behind us?
Not. She paused. Not live, anyway.
Meaning there’s something dead behind us? My grip on her tightened.
Not dead. Not flesh.
Magic? Demon?
Not certain.