Ishmael stared at something beside me. I followed his gaze, spotting the locket.

  “I’m going to assume you’ve seen it before,” I asked, mouth full.

  “No,” he answered sharply. “I haven’t. Where was it?”

  “Here in the room,” I answered. “It was on that bookshelf behind you.”

  “It’s a beautiful locket.” He crossed his arms, a frown on his forehead. “The octagram is a special symbol.”

  “Ah, so that’s what the shape is called,” I said, taking another bite of endybird.

  Ishmael stood to his feet. “Well, I’ll leave you two to finish your dinner. We’ll speak in the morning. I’ll have Ashtolia and Mandeerun keep guard outside.”

  The octagram held my attention as I ate. Something drew me to the object. Staring at it was like looking at the face of an old friend. If every single one of its eight points had a secret, I was willing to listen.

  I walked Ava to her bedroom after we finished the food. Mandeerun and Ashtolia stood in the hall like statues.

  “You’re going to be okay?” I asked, reclining my shoulder on the doorway, arms folded over my chest. “You could take the bed. I could sleep on that couch by the window.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll knock if I need anything.”

  “Alright. Goodnight.”

  “Night.”

  I returned to my room, freshened up, and found some sleeping clothes inside the wardrobe—my mind still haunted by questions surrounding Doopar.

  The necklace with the octagram-shaped pendant fell on the floor as I got under the covers. I picked up the object and held it close to my face. After fiddling it between my fingers for a while, I placed it inside one of the drawers on the nightstand.

  I tossed and turned, waiting for sleep to find me, but the memory of the emptiness in her eyes didn’t allow me to close mine. Though my body was tired, my mind was troubled and ready to run a race.

  I gave up on sleeping and walked to the bookshelf. The titles on the spines of the books were visible, despite the dim light of the candles burning on the crystal chandelier. There were books on ancient Henderbellian history, poems, and symbology. I was about to retrieve one when a knock startled me.

  I looked through the peephole, Ava and Ashtolia on the other side.

  “Hey, are you alright?” I asked after opening the door.

  Ava nibbled on her bottom lip, hands crossed behind her back. She rocked her body back and forth, standing on the tip of her toes. Her pajamas were neon yellow with orange flowers stitched to the silky fabric.

  She nudged Ashtolia on the hip after a brief silence and said, “Can you ask him?”

  Ashtolia frowned, Ava’s reflection displayed on her golden armor.

  “The princess would like to know if she could sleep in your room tonight.” Her posture was like that of a war general, chest puffed, head high.

  “Sure,” I said, brows arched. “But since you’re speaking on behalf of my sister, can you ask her why she needed you to ask?”

  “She overheard a conversation I was having with Mandeerun and discovered what a royal decree is,” she replied with a deadpan face. “So she asked if I could make a royal decree and have her sleep in your room…tonight.”

  “Please, Enzo.” Ava grabbed my arm. “Mr. Wombington is missing and I hate sleeping alone. Please?”

  “I thought I offered before,” I reminded her. “And you said you were going to be okay by yourself.”

  “Yes, but I declined your offer and now I want the offer again. I realized I didn’t want to be by myself here.”

  “Is this decree official?” I reclined on the doorframe.

  “I’m afraid so,” Astholia answered.

  “Then sure, come on—”

  “Thank you, thank you!” Ava darted into the room.

  “I guess I’ll sleep on that couch by the window after all.” I scratched the back of my head.

  “I’ll be out here if you need me,” Ashtolia said. “Good night.”

  I closed the door. Ava was already under the covers, only half of her face in view.

  “Well, good night,” I said.

  “Night!”

  I laid down on the couch and gazed at the star-lit sky, now covered in streaks of purple and yellow, the sight a resemblance of an aurora borealis. Whenever silence settled, it was pierced by the sound of Ava tossing around on the bed. But the stillness of the night and my attempt to fall asleep disappeared after a predatory roar.

  Ava jumped up, kneeling on the bed. “Did you hear that?” she asked with a shiver.

  The hair-raising sound bellowed one more time before I could answer. Footsteps followed on the other side of the door, accompanied by the sound of rattling chains. A moving shadow appeared between the gap of the door and the floor.

  Ava’s breaths grew heavier. She grabbed the covers and clutched them as if they could save her.

  I tiptoed my way to the door and looked through the peephole. My feet fumbled back at the nightmare lingering on the other side: Burning embers clung to its human-like skeletal body, and in its hands, a chain dropping down to its feet. Horns of many sizes rose from its head. Its eyes were round and white.

  “What did you see?” Ava asked, half of her face hidden behind the covers.

  Silence.

  “Enzo?” she insisted with a whimper.

  “Shh.” I held up a finger. “Quiet.”

  The shadows displayed between the bottom gap of the door stopped moving. The door clattered as the creature pounded repeatedly.

  I rushed toward her, grabbed her wrist and crawled under the bed, my teeth bearing into my lips. Ava’s chin trembled, her breaths heavy and short.

  It was as if my heart was going to explode with every blow on the door. Where were Mandeerun and Ashtolia? Ishmael? Anyone?

  Gurgles and moans replaced the pounding. Scratches followed. The doorknob rattled. Ava squeezed my hand at the creaking sound of the hinges.

  A pungent smell crawled into my nostrils once the macabre being entered the room, its toenails brown and curved downward, skin covered in thin orange streaks glowing like lava. I gritted my teeth as the creature paced impatiently.

  A sharp screech stole a shudder from me. The creature moved toward the window, leaving the open door unguarded.

  I glanced at Ava and cocked my head toward the door. She squeezed my hand even tighter and nodded in disagreement. She suppressed a scream when the beast jumped on the bed, its growl accompanied by the sound of cracking wood.

  If I didn’t find a way to get this creature out of the room, we were both going to die. But better one alive than both dead.

  “Stay here,” I mouthed, jerking my hand away from her grasp. “Don’t move.”

  She tried grabbing my wrist, but I pulled away.

  I took in a breath, crawled from under the bed, and darted out of the room.

  I didn’t dare look back.

  A loud roar pierced my ears.

  Rhythmic thuds were followed by the rattling of chains.

  It was coming after me.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Its wide white eyes seemed to have the power to take my life with a simple glance. The creature spread out its long arms and leapt on the wall, one hand clawing at the surface, the other holding a chain. It rushed after me like a crawling lizard.

  A sinking feeling wrapped my stomach as its roars invaded my ears. I ran as fast as I could, eyes on the door leading into the throne room.

  Frames clashed on the ground as the creature pursued me. I chanced a look back. It leapt from the wall back to the floor, thrusting the chain out of its grip. Metal turned to flesh, taking the shape of a long body. It had a sharp snout, scarlet eyes, and a two-forked tongue.

  My pace quickened, but the slithering nightmare was faster.

  This was it.

  This was going to be my end.

  An explosion stole feeling from my limbs, setting off a ringing in my ears. Countless scarlet threads hovered behind me, one by one fading into thin air. The snake and its owner were nowhere to be seen. Doopar was on the opposite side of the destruction, a dagger in hand, my sister running in my direction. Ava threw her arms around me before I could say a word to Doopar.

  “Are you alright?” I asked, scanning her face for any bruises or wounds while my heart pounded against my ribcage.

  “Yes, yes,” she replied behind shallow breaths. “When I saw Doopar walking down the hall from under the bed, I crawled out and stood by the doorway.” Her attention shifted to Doopar, her purple coat still smeared with blood. “She stabbed that creature on her back.” She smiled. “She saved us.”

  The flames from the iron bowls reflected in Doopar’s glistening eyes. “I’m sorry.” She knelt down and tucked the dagger inside her mud-stained boot.

  “For?” I asked.

  “For bringing that abomination into the castle.” Her gaze remained on the ground. “I’m sorry I put you both in danger. I tried to regain control of my body but I couldn’t.” Her hands trembled as they curled into fists. “That abomination entered this castle through me. What you saw was a Soul Drainer, servants of the Shadow Spirits. They’ve been extinct for hundreds of years. They despise elves and can use my kind as a host. It entered my body and robbed me of my ability to speak, though I could still see everything.” She let out a shudder. “I wanted to scream as the guards dragged me into the castle, but I couldn’t.”

  “How did it find you?” I asked, relieved to see her back to her former self.

  “I was on my way to find Loomstak as Ishmael commanded,” she replied. “My body shifted to snow once I was out of the gates. All I remember was a dark cloud robbing me of my movements. And then I was here in the throne room. I could see everything, but I had no control over my body.”

  “Did you ever reach Loomstak?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered. “I believe—”

  The door busted open. Ishmael emerged, his right cheek covered in blood, his hair bun undone, wisps falling over his face. He ran to Doopar, throwing his arms around her.

  “You’re alive,” he whispered.

  She gave him a trembling smile.

  “We have to leave,” he said, despair stamped on his face. “Go grab some clothes. It’s cold. We have to leave now.”

  “What happened to you?” I asked, my pulse pounding in my ear.

  “Two Soul Drainers were in the castle,” he replied behind heavy breaths. “You can’t stay here.”

  “One just attacked them.” Doopar’s face went rigid.

  “So there are more?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Doopar replied.

  “How did you recover so fast?” Ishmael frowned.

  “The Soul Drainer used me as a host to get inside the castle,” she revealed, each word carrying disappointment and shame.

  “No, no, no.” Ishmael pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead. “Where are Mandeerun and Ashtolia?”

  “Probably dead,” Doopar said.

  “Did you find Loomstak?”

  “I didn’t have enough time to reach him,” she answered.

  Ishmael’s posture stooped forward, mouth parted. “Go change! Go!” he insisted. “We have to leave now. I’ll be in front of the Bending Shield.”

  We rushed back to our rooms, put on the clothes we had worn earlier, and met Doopar and Ishmael in front of the eerie canvas beside my dad’s old bedroom.

  “How are we leaving the castle unseen?” Doopar asked.

  Ishmael swiped his hand before the Bending Shield, triggering the tortured faces carved on the golden frame to move as though life found them. Ripples spread across the darkness of the canvas as the frame expanded until a few inches taller than Ishmael.

  “This is our way out of the castle,” Ishmael said. “King Nicholas created it. No one else in this castle knows about it. It was made in case the royal family needed to escape. Now come on.”

  Ishmael disappeared behind the darkness. More ripples scattered across the surface once he was out of sight. Doopar followed, Ava and I at her heels.

  CHAPTER 13

  The cold air wrapped me like a blanket. Snow crunched beneath my feet as I stepped into a pine tree forest illuminated by the moonlit sky. I glanced over my shoulder, thinking the canvas would still be there, but only the wintry landscape was in view.

  “Where are we?” Ava asked, her breath steaming out of her mouth.

  “The Forest of Nick,” Ishmael answered.

  “Why here?” Doopar asked.

  Ishmael knelt on the ground and at the sway of his hand, a beam of light appeared, breaking the darkness, tracing the shape of an elk’s head. The earth marked by the symbol thinned like the mist, revealing a downward staircase made of stone.

  “Come with me.” He walked down the steps.

  We followed, entering an underground hideaway. There were shelves packed with bread and jars full of water. Under them were cabinets with many drawers. Eight mounted sets of armor were lined up against the wall to my right, its surface covered in swords, spears, bows, and arrows. Beside them was a bookshelf. There were beds to my left with trunks at their feet. A table with eight chairs sat in the middle. Candles burned on the scattered candelabras.

  “What is this place?” Ava asked with a dazed look, removing her pink coat and hanging it on the coat rack. We all followed her act.

  “A shelter for the King’s family. King Nicholas and Queen Mary built it after the Shadow Spirits attacked twenty-five years ago. In here are also a few of the most prized possessions of the Griffin family,” Ishmael revealed. “All of these weapons, armors, and books belong to your ancestors.”

  “Why didn’t you bring us here before?” I asked, my footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. “Seems a lot safer than the castle.”

  “Our enemies already had what they wanted. There was no reason for them to return to the castle.” He walked to the table, pulled a chair and took a seat, elbows on his knees, head bowed.

  “Unless they know about Enzo and Ava,” Doopar added.

  Her comment sent a chill down my body.

  Ishmael’s hand slid down his face. “Let’s hope that’s not true.”

  Doopar let out a pain-filled groan, followed by a wince.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Every muscle hurts,” she replied, not daring to look me in the eye. “My mouth tastes like blood, but I’m sure I’ll survive.”

  She was about to walk to the table when I grabbed her wrist, our eyes locking. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  My words earned a frown. “Part of it was,” she retorted. “I should’ve been more cautious. I should’ve seen the signs of their return. I fought my whole life to be a warrior and now that I am, I failed at one of the most important tasks of my life.”

  “But had it not been for you, my sister and I would’ve probably been lost in that forest.” I smiled. “Maybe we would’ve both been dead.”

  She pulled her hand away. “That’s no excuse. I should’ve been more careful.”

  “Enzo’s right, Doopar. There were no signs pointing to the resurrection of the Soul Drainers,” Ishmael revealed, eyes distant. “I spent the last few days pouring over those books and maps in the Room of Secrets. I read those notes they left on the thrones over and over. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Had I known, I wouldn’t have sent—” His words were interrupted by a ragged breath. “Well, I would’ve done things differently.”

  “Don’t speak as if they’re dead.” Doopar sat beside him. “We don’t know—”

  “That’s the problem,” Ishmael barked. “We don’t know anything, but we can assume if they aren’t dead, they’re being used by the Shadow Spirits, Soul Drainers, and whatever other devilries are with them.” He shook his head. “He was reluctant about going. And I ordered him to go anyway. Even if Henderbellian law forbade it.”

  “Who was?” Ava asked, walking closer to him.

  “Loomstak,” Ishmael wagged his head in disappointment. “The general of the elven army…the elf I love. I sent the one who has my heart to his doom…”

  Ava grabbed his hand.

  “You promised me you were going to help me find Mr. Wombington,” she whispered with a determined stare. “And I promise you, we’ll help you find Loomstak.”

  “Thank you, princess.” He smiled sadly, holding her hand between his own.

  “You’re sure we’re safe in here?” I walked to the bookshelf, the flames on the candelabra beside it casting moving shadows over the books.

  “Safest place we could be right now,” he said. “It’s hidden by magic.”

  “Magic,” I whispered with a slight headshake. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get used to the idea of my family having magic in their blood.

  “So what do we do now?” Ava asked.

  “Now we need to rest,” Ishmael replied. “We’ll decide our next steps in the morning.”

  “Don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight,” Ava said as I scanned the spines of the books. “I think I’ll have nightmares,” she continued. “Mr. Wombington used to talk to me when I had bad dreams.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ishmael said. “We won’t leave you.”

  “I’m starving,” Doopar said. “I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”

  “Is the bread still good?” I asked.

  “The bread is always good in here,” Ishmael revealed, his right eyebrow curved into an arch.

  “Let me guess.” I smirked. “Magic?”

  “Every morning, the leftovers are exchanged by fresh food. The jars are refilled with water and wine.”

  The bread was cut in slices, set on a round wooden tray. I brought it to the table and returned to the shelf to grab a few cups and a jar of water.

  After we were done eating in silence, we each picked a bed for the night: I picked the one on the far right, next to the wall; Ava the one next to me, and Ishmael and Doopar the beds on the far left. The trunks were stocked with towels, soap, and fresh linens. There was a door next to one of the armors that led to some sort of bathroom. Warm water trickled from a ceiling of dark rocks. There was a toilet, a sink, and a mirror. We each freshened up before going to sleep.

 

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