Elaria Silverstan's Arc

Chapter 11 of 22

The blue corridor narrowed as Elaria followed the sprite's mist trail deeper. Lia's faint glow brushed the walls on either side, just enough to show smooth stone and the cradle straps at Elaria's chest. The rune light from the entrance faded behind them. Ahead, the passage swallowed the glow whole. Elaria slowed and set one hand on the wall to keep her bearing. Lia rose to the lip of the cradle and pushed her light a few feet further. For one breath, the glow caught a flat slab set into the stone — a chalk map drawn by some earlier traveler, its lines softened under a film of frost. Elaria saw branching paths, small marks where corridors split, and one circled point further in. She tried to fix the shape in her mind. Then Lia's glow guttered, thinned to a pinprick, and went out. The dark closed on them like water. Elaria did not move. She listened. The corridor breathed cold air against her face from somewhere ahead. She could not tell if the floor held a step, a drop, or open space. She reached into her pack with her free hand and pulled out the coil of chain she had taken from the outpost — wide links, cool metal, spaced for a gloved grip. She braced one end against a crack in the wall behind her and fed the chain forward link by link, sweeping the floor ahead of each step. She walked that way for a long time. The chain found two seams in the stone and one narrow gap she stepped over. Lia stayed quiet against her ribs, her glow no stronger than a candle behind cloth. Elaria counted paces under her breath and matched them against the map she had glimpsed. When her count told her the circled point should be near, she stopped and crouched. The floor under her hand was even. The wall to her right opened into a wider chamber she could feel but not see. She set the chain down and reached into the inner pocket of her coat. The orb fit in her palm, smooth and cold. She pressed her thumb to the seam and held it. A pale light woke inside the glass, grew, and spread until it filled the chamber with something close to daylight. The chamber was wide and clean. No drops. No traps sprung. A doorway stood at the far wall, framed in plain stone, and a second chalk mark on the floor pointed through it. Lia lifted her head and stretched her wings in the light. Elaria stood and clipped the orb to her chest strap above the cradle. The merchant who sold it had promised one hour. She had one hour to cross the chamber, read what lay beyond the doorway, and find the next safe wall before the light died again. She picked up the chain, coiled it over her shoulder, and stepped forward into the open room.