The Silent Guide, page 23
She traced a route with her finger, from the inn to a point near the base of the headland where the point stood. “This passage will take you closest, but the final approach will have to be above ground. There’s a sea cave at the base of the cliff that offers some cover.”
“I will stay on the ship, but what kind of resistance should you expect?” her father asked, studying the map intently.
“In the tunnels themselves, minimal. The Servants seem unaware of most of the older passages.” Lyria’s expression darkened. “The tower is heavily guarded, though. At least it has been since they have taken over. They have soldiers. Powerful ones.”
“Fabrications,” Ellie said. She assumed that to be the case, anyway.
Lyria nodded. “Perhaps.”
“And the Watchers that you mentioned?”
“They seem to concentrate around the tower during the night. During the day they disperse. It’s not something that we spend much time focusing on, mostly because we know better. Too dangerous, you see.”
“Thank you for doing this, then.”
“Someone has to.” She was quiet for a moment.
“I’ll take you as far as the sea cave,” Lyria told them as they gathered their equipment. “Beyond that, you’re on your own. I cannot approach the tower directly.”
“You’ve done more than enough,” Ellie assured her. “Without your help, we’d be wandering aimlessly.”
They left the inn through a concealed door in the cellar, descending a narrow staircase that spiraled downward into darkness. Lyria led the way, holding a lantern that cast just enough light to navigate by without revealing their position to any Watchers above. The darkness engulfed them, and Ellie focused, feeling the power around her and a surge of doubt. But strangely, she also felt a sense of resolve building. This was what she needed to be doing to get to Zaren and help him. She felt that with a rising certainty.
The tunnels were ancient, their walls bearing the distinctive organic patterns that characterized Inarak construction. In places, the stone seemed to flow rather than having been cut, forming smooth curves and arches that defied conventional architecture. Water dripped steadily from the ceiling, collecting in channels that ran along the edges of the passage.
“Stay in the center,” Lyria warned as they moved deeper into the network. “The water seems to carry influences from above. Best not to touch it if you can avoid it.”
They walked for what seemed like hours, the tunnels branching and intersecting in patterns that would have been hopelessly confusing without Lyria’s guidance. Occasionally they passed evidence of recent habitation—discarded supplies, the remains of small fires, blankets piled in dry corners—suggesting others had sought refuge in the tunnels.
The air grew steadily brinier as they progressed, suggesting they were approaching the shoreline. The sound of waves could be heard faintly through the stone above them, a rhythmic pulsing that matched the dull throb of Ellie’s corruption marks.
Eventually, they reached a large chamber where several tunnels converged. The ceiling rose high above them, disappearing into darkness beyond the reach of their lantern. The walls here bore elaborate carvings—not Inarak patterns, but something older and more primal. Symbols that seemed to shift when viewed directly, dissolving into different forms when glimpsed from the corner of the eye.
“What is this place?” Tabitha asked as she moved closer to examine the carvings.
“The Crossroads,” Lyria replied. “One of the oldest structures beneath the Coast. The tunnels were built around it, not through it. The original purpose is lost to time, but some believe it was a meeting place.”
Ellie felt drawn to the center of the chamber, where a circular depression in the floor contained what appeared to be a pool of utterly still water. As she approached, she realized it wasn’t water at all, but some kind of reflective surface that showed not her own image but a distant view of stars and darkness.
“Don’t look too deeply,” Lyria warned, pulling her back gently. “The Mirror draws in those who stare too long.”
Shaking off the strange attraction, Ellie forced herself to focus on their mission. “How much farther to the tower?”
“Not far now. The sea cave lies just beyond the eastern passage.” Lyria pointed to a low archway on the far side of the chamber. “That tunnel will take you directly there.”
They crossed the chamber, careful to avoid the mesmerizing pull of the Mirror. The eastern passage was narrower than the ones they’d traversed before, forcing them to proceed in single file. The walls here were damp, glistening with moisture that collected in beads that seemed to follow their movement as they passed.
The sound of waves grew louder, no longer muffled by layers of stone. A salt-laden breeze touched their faces, carrying the distinctive scent of the sea mixed with something else—a faint metallic tang that reminded Ellie of blood.
The tunnel opened abruptly into a sea cave, a vast natural chamber where water surged through a narrow entrance to create a protected pool. Daylight filtered in through the opening, casting shifting patterns across the stone walls and illuminating the pool’s crystal-clear waters. On the far side of the cave, a steep path wound upward, presumably leading to the surface near the tower.
“This is where I leave you,” Lyria said, halting at the edge of the tunnel. “The path will take you to the headland. The tower stands about a quarter mile north of where you’ll emerge. I would only endanger your approach.”
“Thank you,” Ellie said. “For everything.”
Lyria clasped Ellie’s hand briefly. “May the boundaries hold for you.” Then she turned and disappeared back into the tunnel, her lantern light fading into darkness.
They waited until she was gone before wading into the pool, crossing to the path on the far side. The water was shockingly cold, numbing their legs to the knee by the time they reached the opposite shore. As they began the climb upward, Ellie felt the corruption marks pulse more strongly, responding to whatever power emanated from the tower above.
The path was treacherous—steep and slippery with spray. Salt-crusted rocks cut into their hands as they climbed. The wind howled around them, carrying stinging particles of sand that bit at exposed skin. Twice, Tabitha nearly fell, saved only by Ralen’s quick reflexes. The air grew colder as they ascended, carrying that same strange metallic scent that made Ellie’s nose tingle.
They finally emerged onto the headland, breathing hard from the exertion. The vista before them was both beautiful and forbidding. The coast stretched away in one direction, the endless sea in the other, and between them, this rocky promontory jutted into the sky.
They crouched low in scrubby vegetation, brown and twisted from constant exposure to salt winds. The sparse brush scratched at their clothing as they crawled forward, providing minimal cover but enough to avoid immediate detection.
Ellie tasted copper on her tongue—a sign of powerful fabrications nearby. The rocks beneath her palms hummed with subtle energy. Even the air felt different here—thicker somehow, as if reality itself had different properties on this windswept terrain.
From their position, the tower dominated the view, the stark stone tower rising against the pale morning sky. Its weathered walls bore the scars of countless storms, yet it stood defiantly, a monument to some ancient purpose that transcended its role as a mere navigational aid.
And circling above, just as Lyria had warned, were the Watchers. The birds flew with unnatural synchronization, their wings barely moving as they rode the air currents in perfect formation.
She had seen them before, but from here, she could feel something about them. And maybe it wasn’t just that she could feel them now so much as it was that she could feel them ever since she had done what she had to the sphere. Ellie still wasn’t entirely sure what she had done, but she could feel the power that lingered. And…
She paused. The power was building.
She had not felt it doing so before, but somehow, by causing that sphere to crackle, to take on a different energy, she had expanded power out into that network of gates.
She could try to stabilize it, but she wasn’t sure she could. Every so often, she felt that connection from the corruption. It seemed as if there was a pressure that lingered inside her, but she didn’t know what she would be able to do about it.
Ralen shifted closer until his shoulder pressed against hers. “There’s not much time.”
“It’s enough.” Ellie turned toward him, their faces inches apart. “We can use our Blade abilities to disrupt the Watchers’ fabrication patterns if we need to.”
Tabitha cleared her throat softly. “I have something that might help.” She reached into her satchel and produced a small, fabricated device. “It creates an energy signature that mimics Blade ability usage. Not powerful enough to fool someone up close, but it might confuse the Watchers from a distance.”
Ellie reluctantly broke eye contact with Ralen. “Perfect. We’ll position it on the opposite side, then activate it after we’re in position.”
They reviewed the approach. Tabitha would place the fabrication, then join them at the rendezvous point. When the distraction activated, they’d reach the tower’s blind spot, then find a way inside.
“We stay together once we’re in,” Ellie said firmly. “Priority is locating Zaren. If extraction isn’t possible, we gather intelligence and retreat.”
Ralen squeezed her hand briefly. “Together.”
“Let’s move,” Ellie said, checking the position of the sun. “We have about fifteen minutes before the next patrol convergence.”
They separated, Tabitha heading east while Ellie and Ralen made their way toward the prearranged position northwest of the tower. They moved carefully, using the sparse vegetation and rocky outcroppings for cover, freezing in place whenever the Watchers’ flight path brought them overhead.
Strangely, she felt the corruption burning with an increasing intensity.
She’d been feeling that for a while now. But more than just feeling it, she also grew increasingly aware of what existed within her: the power that was there, and beyond that, the connection that lingered. A part of her was worried that she would eventually find her own powers corrupted. But that didn’t seem to be the case. Instead, she just felt the rising energy that lingered.
The minutes ticked by. Tabitha should have reached her position by now. Ellie checked her timepiece—three minutes until the patrol convergence.
“Something’s wrong,” Ralen whispered.
A flash of light erupted from the eastern side of the headland, followed by a sound like crystal chimes. The Watchers immediately veered toward the disturbance, their formation breaking as they investigated.
“Now!” Ellie urged, seizing the opportunity.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
They sprinted toward the tower, reaching the blind spot just as the patrol guards began to respond to the distraction. Pressing themselves against the cold stone of the tower’s base, they edged around to a small door that Ellie had noticed during their observation—likely a maintenance entrance, less heavily watched than the main door.
Ralen tried the handle, which was locked as expected. Ellie drew one of her daggers, channeling her Blade ability through the metal. The lock mechanism responded to her careful probing, the energy disrupting its internal workings until it clicked open.
They slipped inside, finding themselves in a narrow storage room filled with maintenance equipment and supplies. The air was thick with the scent of oil, metal, and something else—a sweetish odor that reminded Ellie uncomfortably of the corruption flowing in her side.
“Where’s Tabitha?” Ralen asked, concern evident in his hushed voice.
“She’ll find her way in,” Ellie assured him, though worry gnawed at her as well. “She knows the plan.”
A spiral staircase wound upward from the back of the storage room, disappearing into darkness above. Ellie could feel Zaren’s energy signature more strongly now, a familiar pattern that pulsed weakly from somewhere higher in the tower.
“He’s here,” she whispered. “Above us.”
They began to climb, moving as silently as possible on the worn stone steps. The staircase was ancient, predating the Inarak by centuries, its construction unlike anything Ellie had seen before. The stones fit together with impossible precision, no mortar visible between them, and they emitted a faint luminescence that provided just enough light to see by.
As they ascended, Ellie became aware of a sound—not quite music, not quite machinery—that seemed to vibrate through the very structure of the tower. It resonated with the sphere in her pocket and the corruption in her veins, creating a dissonant harmony that set her teeth on edge.
They passed several closed doors, but Ellie pressed onward, following the pull of Zaren’s energy signature. It grew stronger with each turn of the staircase, drawing her upward with increasing urgency.
Finally, they reached a landing where the signature was strongest. A heavy wooden door, reinforced with bands of metal etched with unfamiliar symbols, blocked their path. From behind it came the source of the strange sound they’d been hearing—a distorted melody that seemed to be trying to form a coherent pattern but falling just short, creating a tension that was almost painful to hear.
“This is it,” Ellie whispered, pressing her palm against the door. “He’s in there.”
Ralen positioned himself on the opposite side, drawing his weapon. “How do we proceed?”
Ellie considered their options. Brute force would likely alert every Servant in the tower to their presence. Stealth seemed the better approach, but the door was undoubtedly locked and possibly warded.
She closed her eyes, extending her Blade ability through her palm into the door. The energy flowed through the wood and metal, seeking the mechanisms that held it closed. The wards resisted her at first, pushing back with surprising strength, but she persisted, adapting her approach as Zaren had taught her.
Rather than attempting to disrupt the wards directly, she moved around them, finding the gaps in their coverage. Every fabrication, no matter how complex, had imperfections—places where the energy patterns didn’t quite align. It was just a matter of finding them.
There—a nexus point where three different ward patterns converged. Ellie directed a precise pulse of energy at the junction, causing a momentary fluctuation in the protective matrix. In that instant of vulnerability, she sent a more targeted disruption into the physical lock mechanism.
The door clicked open with surprising ease, swinging inward silently on well-oiled hinges.
The room beyond was circular, occupying the full diameter of the tower. Windows lined the walls, though they’d been covered with some kind of dark material that blocked most of the outside light. The space was dominated by strange equipment—fabricated devices unlike any Ellie had seen before, their forms suggesting a merging of Inarak and more recent technologies.
And at the center, strapped to a chair with bands of metal that glowed with suppression energy, was Zaren.
Ellie’s heart contracted painfully at the sight of him. He was thinner than she remembered, his powerful frame diminished by whatever ordeal he’d endured. His head was bowed, chin resting on his chest, and for a terrible moment, she feared they were too late.
Then he raised his head slightly, his eyes finding hers across the room with startling clarity. Despite his obvious exhaustion, there was recognition in his gaze, and something more—a fierce determination that even captivity hadn’t extinguished.
The room appeared empty of Servants, though Ellie suspected they wouldn’t be far. They would need to move quickly.
She motioned for Ralen to guard the door while she approached Zaren carefully, alert for traps or hidden observers. As she drew closer, she could see the extent of his condition—the hollows beneath his cheekbones, the new lines etched around his eyes, the raw marks on his wrists where he’d struggled against his restraints.
“Ellie,” he whispered, his voice hoarse from disuse. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I came to get you out,” she replied softly, examining the restraints. They were fabricated and designed specifically to suppress ability use, similar to what the Arbiters used for containing dangerous prisoners but with modifications that made them more painful than merely restrictive.
“No time,” he said urgently. “They’re coming back. They know—”
A sound from above interrupted him—footsteps on the staircase leading to the lantern room. Ellie froze, her hand on one of Zaren’s restraints. Ralen tensed at the door, raising his weapon in readiness.
“Hide,” Zaren hissed. “Now!”
Ellie looked around frantically, spotting a shadowed alcove behind some of the equipment. She and Ralen barely managed to conceal themselves before the door at the top of the stairs opened and three figures entered the room.
Two were clearly Servants, wearing the familiar robes with silver embroidery at the cuffs and collar. The third was different. There was something almost unnerving about them. Female, or at least Ellie thought so, but the way they stood and swayed reminded her of Aliason.
Could they be fae?
Why not? If this was all about finding a way to get power into this world, power to help serve the Quell, then it made sense that there would be others who would do so and who would have that power here.
“The disruption has been contained,” one of the Servants reported. “A simple fabrication, meant to distract. We found no one.”
The woman nodded, her attention fixed on Zaren. “It seems your friends have come for you after all,” she said, her voice carrying that same strange quality Ellie had noticed in the music—almost melodic, but with undertones that grated on the nerves. “How touching.”
