“Aye. But doona scare me like that again. I thought you were going to crash into the stone wall.”
“I can take care of myself.” She spun to take in the cave, a look of awe and apprehension on her face. The cat was leaning out of the boat, batting at the phosphorescence and no longer concerned about threats.
“Is this the howf?”
“No, it’s the entrance. It was once part of Fingal’s Cave, but it was enchanted to keep it hidden. It gives us the time and secrecy we need to find the howf.”
“Why the hell did you no’ tell me we’d be crashing through an imaginary wall on a giant wave you’d be conjuring?”
“I figured you’d be able to see through the illusion, since you’re a Mythean. I guess you’re not the right kind of Mythean.”
He frowned. But it was true. There was nothing right about him. He caught her looking at him and shook the thoughts away. Carefully, he steered the boat toward the shore that looked the best for landing. When they ran up onto the pebble beach, the Chairman was the first to hop out, followed by Esha. While she explored the huge cavern, Warren tied the boat off to one of the rock pillars.
“Start looking for anything out of the ordinary,” Esha called, her voice echoing off the soaring stone walls.
Warren glanced around at the phosphorescent pool and the octagonal pillars. The whole bloody place was out of the ordinary.
After twenty minutes of climbing over the pillars and searching the walls, something finally seemed odder than the place itself.
“Esha, come here,” he said, not bothering to speak up since sound traveled so easily here. He heard her approaching, could even hear the padding footsteps of the cat, but he kept his eyes on the faint letters etched into the wall, afraid that if he looked away he wouldn’t find them again.
“What’d you find?” Esha stopped next to him. He gestured to the writing. “Wow.”
“Can you read it?” He couldn’t tell what language it was.
“No. But what’s below it?”
His eyes flicked down, and he noticed a hand-shaped carving in the stone. It was rust colored. “That’s blood.”
“Damn.” Esha reached for her tall boot and withdrew a slender dagger. “It’s got to be part of the magic that allows one to read the writing. A sacrifice.”
“Wait.” He grabbed her hand, pulled the dagger free. “Let me.”
“No.”
“I’ll do it. You’ve done enough.”
She frowned, her eyes darkening with something like worry, then nodded. He sliced his palm, a long incision that stung like hell, then pressed his hand to the wall. The ground beneath his feet rumbled ominously, then began to crack apart, the stone heaving toward the ceiling.
“Shit!” Esha cried, and stumbled backward.
He grabbed her before she fell off the pillar upon which they stood, but it continued to rise as the ground around them cracked and rumbled.
“Give me the dagger!” Esha grabbed it from his hand and sliced her palm, then trust her hand against the stone wall. The shifting stone beneath their feet ground to a halt, then slowly returned to normal. The Chairman hissed, then returned to batting at the water of the pool.
“Why did it start? Hell, why did it stop?” Warren asked.
“Because you aren’t a soulceress. Your blood was all wrong. I should have seen it coming. Stupid.”
“It’s fine now.” She’d saved their asses twice now.
“For now.” She glanced at the letters carved in the stone. “Good news is, I can read the writing.”
“And?” He glanced around at the stone, confirming that it was no longer moving.
“It’s a riddle. There be more of we upon these walls, too hard to find once darkness falls. Light from magic will reveal, the secrets that we do conceal.”
“More of we?” Warren asked.