Raven Moore's Arc

Chapter 5 of 6

The drag marks continued beneath the arch. Raven stared at them for a long second before looking at Lucian. “You knew this went farther.” “I knew there were tunnels.” “That is not the same thing.” “No,” he said. “It isn’t.” She narrowed her eyes. Lucian had a particular way of answering questions that made her want to either punch him or kiss him just to wipe the expression off his face. She hated that those had somehow become equally plausible options. “You are unbelievably irritating.” “And yet you keep following me.” “I am following the blood trail.” “Of course.” Raven stepped past him. His hand caught her arm. She looked down at it, then up at him. “You planning to keep doing that?” “Until you stop walking into things you don’t understand.” “You mean like demon territory?” His mouth twitched. “You walked into that willingly.” “And survived.” “Barely.” Raven pulled free. “You really enjoy taking credit for that.” “I enjoy being correct.” “There it is.” “There what is?” “The reason I cannot stand you.” Lucian leaned a little closer. “Only one reason?” Raven’s eyes dropped to his mouth before she could stop them. She recovered quickly. “Several.” “Good.” That answer irritated her more than it should have. She turned away. The red lanterns along the walls grew farther apart the deeper they went, until finally there were none at all. Lucian stopped. Raven nearly walked into him. “Again?” “This is where my father’s territory ends.” She looked past him. The tunnel ahead was different. The brickwork disappeared. The walls were older here. Black stone. Smooth in some places, cracked in others. Symbols had been carved into the surface so deeply they looked burned rather than cut. Raven moved closer. She knew some of them. Not enough. “That’s witch work.” “Some of it.” She glanced at him. “Some?” Lucian stepped beside her. “The city above wasn’t the first thing built here.” Raven looked back at the markings. He continued. “Ashvale has always had strange stories. Missing people. Houses where voices came through the walls. Children who wandered into the woods and came back speaking languages no one recognized.” “Sounds cheerful.” “It wasn’t.” “And everyone just stayed?” “Humans are remarkably committed to building cities on top of things they should avoid.” She snorted. “I’ll give you that.” Lucian ran his gaze along the carvings without touching them. “Long before the Veil lifted, witches knew something was wrong here.” Raven’s expression changed. “Seraphine never told me that.” “She might not know all of it.” “She knows everything.” “She believes she does.” Raven gave him a look. “You say that to her face.” “I prefer living.” That almost made her laugh. Almost. Lucian continued walking. Raven followed. “The Veil was thinner here than in most places. Not open. Just weak.” “And the witches tried to strengthen it.” “At first.” “At first?” Lucian glanced back at her. “They learned there were things already underneath it.” Raven slowed. “Already here?” “Yes.” “So the Veil lifting didn’t bring everything into Ashvale.” “No.” That answer sat heavier than she expected. She had always understood the lifting of the Veil as a beginning. The moment the world changed. The moment creatures stepped out of myth and into streets. The moment everything humans had once called impossible became simply another thing that could kill them. But if Lucian was right— some of those things had never crossed over. They had been waiting. Raven looked at the black stone around them. “What kind of things?” Lucian’s expression hardened. “The kind people stopped naming.” A chill moved across her skin. “The Unnamed.” He looked at her. “You’ve heard of them.” “Seraphine mentioned them once.” “Once?” “She stopped talking after I asked what they were.” “Smart.” “Annoying.” “Also smart.” Raven rolled her eyes. “So what did the witches do?” “They built containment wards beneath the city.” She looked again at the symbols. “These?” “Some of the oldest.” “How old?” “No one knows.” “That is an incredibly useful answer.” “I wasn’t there.” “You certainly act old enough.” Lucian stopped. Slowly, he turned toward her. Raven smiled sweetly. His eyes narrowed. “Careful.” “Or what?” He stepped closer. Raven’s back met the stone wall. She hadn’t realized how near it was. Lucian planted one hand beside her head. “Do you always provoke dangerous things?” “Only when they’re being smug.” His gaze drifted over her face. “And how has that strategy worked for you?” “So far?” She looked pointedly at the hand beside her head. “Pretty well.” Something shifted in his expression. Dark amusement. Interest. Maybe both. He leaned closer. Raven could feel the heat of him now. “You have a remarkable amount of confidence for someone currently trapped against a wall.” “You have a remarkable amount of confidence for someone assuming I feel trapped.” Silence. His eyes dropped to her mouth. Raven’s pulse jumped. Then— something scraped deeper in the tunnel. They both froze. Lucian turned his head. Raven exhaled through her nose. “Saved by whatever nightmare lives down here.” Lucian looked back at her. “You sound disappointed.” “I’m devastated.” He moved away. She hated the cold air that replaced him. They continued. The tunnel descended sharply. The farther down they went, the more markings appeared. Some were witch symbols. Others looked wrong. Not evil. Just wrong in a way Raven couldn’t explain. Shapes that hurt to follow with her eyes. Lines that seemed to change when she looked away. “What are those?” Lucian didn’t answer immediately. “Lucian.” “They predate the witch wards.” Raven stopped. “You said the witches were the first ones down here.” “No. I said they were the first ones who understood something was here.” “That is a very different sentence.” “Yes.” She stared at him. “You are exhausting.” “So I’ve been told.” “By everyone?” “Mostly people who survived knowing me.” “That was dramatic.” “I’m a demon.” “That excuse is getting old.” His mouth curved. The passage widened. And then Raven saw the first body. She stopped so suddenly Lucian nearly walked into her. A woman stood against the wall. Except stood was the wrong word. She was attached to it. Her arms had been bent behind her body and twisted into the stone somehow. Her spine curved at an impossible angle. One knee was pulled upward against her chest. White symbols glowed beneath her skin. Raven’s breath caught. Then the woman’s head moved. Very slowly. Her eyes opened. Raven stumbled back. “What the hell?” Lucian caught her by the waist. “The Knotted.” Raven stared. More shapes emerged as her eyes adjusted. Men. Women. Dozens. All bound into the walls. All alive. Some barely looked human anymore. A man’s ribs pushed outward beneath his skin, each bone glowing with the same pale markings. Another woman’s arms had been woven together above her head until Raven couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. “They’re alive.” “Yes.” “For how long?” Lucian’s voice went quiet. “Some of them may have been here before Ashvale had a name.” Raven looked at him. “That’s impossible.” “Not down here.” One of the Knotted inhaled. A dry, shuddering sound. Raven flinched. “What did this to them?” “The old witches.” Her face changed. “No.” “They needed anchors.” “For the wards.” “Yes.” Raven’s jaw tightened. “These were people.” “Some were witches.” “That doesn’t make it better.” “I didn’t say it did.” She looked at him sharply. Lucian met her eyes. No smirk. No sarcasm. Nothing. “The early covens were terrified,” he said. “They found things below the city they couldn’t kill, summon, banish, or send back because they had never crossed through the Veil in the first place.” Raven looked at the bodies again. “So they used people.” “Blood. Bone. Life.” Her stomach turned. “They turned them into living locks.” “Yes.” “Why living?” “Magic lasts longer when it has something alive to feed from.” Raven’s expression hardened. “That sounds like demon magic.” “It sounds like magic.” She looked at him. Lucian’s gaze stayed on the Knotted. “That is something humans and witches enjoy forgetting. Magic does not care who uses it. It does not become kinder because the hands drawing the symbol belong to someone you trust.” That one hit harder than she expected. Raven looked away. A voice drifted through the chamber. “Raven?” She froze. Eli. Her entire body reacted. “Raven?” Soft. Familiar. Scared. She stepped forward. Lucian’s arm snapped around her waist. “Don’t.” Raven’s back hit his chest. Her heart pounded. “Eli?” Lucian tightened his grip. “No.” She tried to move. His other hand caught her wrist. “Raven.” “He could have followed me.” “He didn’t.” “You don’t know that.” “I do.” “How?” “Because whatever is calling you wants you to argue with me.” Raven went still. The voice came again. “Rae?” Her throat tightened. Eli called her that. Not often. But enough. A figure stepped into view. It looked almost human. That was the worst part. A man’s body. A face Raven did not recognize. But the smile— Eli. The tilt of its head— Eli. The little crease beside the mouth— Eli. Wrong. Copied. Assembled from pieces of memory. Raven whispered, “The Borrowed.” Lucian’s mouth was near her ear. “Yes.” “It’s in my head.” “Not exactly.” The creature smiled. “You came for me.” Eli’s voice. Perfectly. Raven’s stomach twisted. Lucian said, “It pulls impressions from people nearby. Memory. Attachment. Fear.” “So it reads minds.” “No.” “Comforting distinction.” “It matters.” “How?” “Because it cannot take what you don’t give it.” Raven frowned. The Borrowed stepped closer. “You left me.” Raven’s chest tightened. Lucian felt it. His hand moved slightly against her waist. Grounding her. She hated how much it helped. “Raven.” She forced herself to look at him. “Not him.” “I know.” “Say it.” She swallowed. “That isn’t Eli.” The creature’s smile disappeared. Its face changed. Not shape. Expression. Suddenly it looked hurt. Eli hurt. That was worse. “You always leave.” Raven flinched. Lucian’s gaze sharpened. The Borrowed looked at him. Then smiled again. “Oh.” Lucian went still. Raven noticed. “What?” The creature spoke in a different voice. Male. Older. Cold. “You were always the weaker son.” Lucian’s face emptied. Raven turned toward him. The Borrowed continued. “You think she won’t see it?” His arm tightened around her. “Stop listening.” Raven looked at him. “Who is that?” “No one.” “That is absolutely someone.” “Raven.” The creature laughed. Eli’s laugh again. Then another voice. A woman. “You will become him eventually.” Lucian’s jaw flexed. Raven’s expression softened despite herself. “Your father?” Lucian looked at her. “Now is not the time.” “That is definitely a yes.” “You have astonishing priorities.” “You dragged me into family trauma territory.” “You followed me.” “Again, blood trail.” “Right.” The Borrowed hissed. Its smile stretched too wide. Then every Knotted body in the chamber moved. At once. Bones cracked. Heads turned. White symbols flared beneath dead-looking skin. Raven’s blood went cold. “What did we do?” “Nothing.” “Wonderful.” The chamber darkened. Something shifted behind the Borrowed. Raven watched part of the far wall unfold. No. Not wall. A body. Tall. Impossibly tall. It peeled itself away from the stone one limb at a time. Pale strips hung from it. Skin. Human skin. Not its own. The thing had no real face. Only smooth flesh where features should have been. Then a vertical slit opened from forehead to chin. Teeth filled it. Rows. And rows. Raven whispered, “Oh, absolutely not.” Lucian grabbed her hand. “The Unnamed.” “That is an Unnamed?” “Yes.” “It looks worse than the description.” “You were expecting better?” “I was expecting less teeth.” The creature stepped forward. Every Knotted body began shaking. Their glowing marks brightened. Raven stared. “It’s pulling from them.” Lucian’s expression hardened. “Yes.” “They’re feeding it.” “Yes.” “So the wards don’t just hold it.” “No.” Raven understood. “Oh.” Lucian looked at her. “The old witches didn’t trap the Unnamed by starving them.” “They made a system.” “A balance.” Raven looked sick. “Feed them just enough magic to keep them dormant.” “Exactly.” “And when the Veil lifted?” “The balance broke.” The Unnamed moved again. Not fast. It didn’t need to. “They woke up.” “Some did.” “Some?” Lucian pulled her backward. “Would you like the complete history lesson now?” “Actually yes.” “Raven.” “What?” “Run.” The Unnamed lunged. They ran. The Borrowed screamed behind them. Not one voice now. Dozens. Eli. Seraphine. A child crying. Lucian’s father. People Raven didn’t know. People Lucian did. The tunnel filled with them. Raven’s boot slipped. Lucian caught her. Again. His arms went around her. Her hands landed against his chest. For one second they were too close. Way too close. She could feel his breath. His heartbeat. His eyes dropped to her mouth. Raven stared at him. “This is really not the time.” “I am aware.” “You don’t look aware.” “You’re still holding onto me.” She looked down. She was. Her fingers were curled into the front of his shirt. Raven slowly released him. “You caught me.” “You stayed.” “Arrogant.” “Distracting.” Her eyes snapped up. “What?” Lucian’s expression changed like he realized he had said too much. Raven smiled. “Oh.” “Do not.” “You think I’m distracting.” “Move.” “That sounded dangerously close to a compliment.” The Unnamed struck the wall behind them. Stone cracked. Lucian grabbed her hand. “Raven.” “Fine.” They ran. The drag marks continued deeper. Raven noticed them again when they reached another junction. She stopped. Lucian swore. “What?” “The trail.” It went left. Deeper. Not back toward the chamber. Raven crouched. There was fabric on the ground. Brown. The courier’s coat. Lucian looked toward the passage. Raven found another mark beside it. A circle. Two lines through the center. Cross. Fresh. She stared. “He brought her through here.” Lucian’s face darkened. Raven stood. “He knew about the Knotted.” “Yes.” “He knew about the Borrowed.” “Probably.” “The Unnamed too.” Lucian looked at Cross’s symbol. “Yes.” Raven turned toward him. “So Cross didn’t stumble into any of this.” “No.” “He knows the old tunnels.” “Yes.” “And he’s using them.” Lucian looked toward the passage ahead. “That seems likely.” Raven sighed. “You know, sometimes I truly hate how calmly you say horrible things.” “It keeps me pleasant.” “You are not pleasant.” “You keep staying.” She stared at him. “You really want to die down here, don’t you?” Lucian smiled. “Not particularly.” The drag marks disappeared into the next tunnel. Raven looked after them. Lucian stepped beside her. “This is your opportunity to turn around.” She laughed once. “Still trying that?” “Yes.” “You know I’m not leaving.” “I know.” “Then why ask?” His gaze moved to her. “Because I would prefer you choose this.” The answer caught her off guard. For once there was no joke beneath it. Raven looked away. “Annoying.” “Coward.” Her head snapped toward him. “Excuse me?” “You heard me.” “You just spent the last hour telling me not to walk toward monsters.” “And now you are avoiding a conversation.” “That is completely different.” “Is it?” “Yes.” Lucian stepped closer. Raven folded her arms. “You are enjoying this.” “A little.” “I knew it.” His eyes held hers. “But I meant it.” Her expression softened slightly. He nodded toward the darkness. “You go farther, this stops being my father’s territory entirely.” “And becomes what?” “The old city.” “There’s an old city under Ashvale?” “Parts of one.” Raven blinked. “You were saving that?” “You never asked.” “I hate you.” “I know.” “No, genuinely.” “Of course.” She looked into the passage. “What’s down there?” Lucian’s smile disappeared. “Where the first covens built the original bindings.” “And Cross is taking people there.” “It appears so.” Raven pulled her knife. Lucian looked at it. “You do realize that knife has been useless for most of tonight.” “It makes me feel better.” “Reasonable.” She stared at him. “Was that agreement?” “Don’t get used to it.” Raven smiled despite herself. Then she looked back toward the dark. The courier was still ahead. Cross was still ahead. And beneath Ashvale was an entire history no one had bothered to tell her. She took one step forward. Lucian caught her hand. Raven looked down. Then at him. “What now?” He laced his fingers through hers. “To keep you from wandering off.” Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s your excuse?” “It is an excellent excuse.” “You could hold my wrist.” “I could.” “You could grab my sleeve.” “I could.” “But this is necessary?” His thumb moved once over her knuckles. “Apparently.” Raven tried very hard not to smile. “You’re shameless.” “You noticed.” They continued down together. Hand in hand. Neither mentioned it. And somewhere beneath them— something old moved through the stone. Not trapped. Not sleeping. Just waiting.