In the Wake of the Wicked (Veridian Empire #1)

18. Rose

18

Rose

M y feet carried me back through the mysterious door, down corridor after corridor, not pausing until I burst through the nearest exit and into the balmy early afternoon air. I rested my hands on my knees and breathed deeply, letting the autumn breeze sweeping through fallen leaves calm my racing heart.

Why had Gayl let me go? If he knew I was there, knew I’d been spying on him, why had he not taken me in for questioning—or worse?

The fact that he’d allowed me to walk away made me even more anxious than the alternative.

A single day, and I’d already made him suspicious of me. What was I thinking ? I’d been overzealous and arrogant for believing a simple invisibility spell would fool someone like him.

I rubbed at my father’s herb satchel, calmed by the familiar leather against the pads of my fingers. Taking a deep breath, I pulled my attention away from that cold hallway. That was a problem for future Rose. There was nothing I could do now that wouldn’t draw his attention even more. I needed to shift my focus back to the trial—something I could act on.

Taking the folded piece of enchanted parchment from my pocket, I looked around to make sure nobody was nearby and whispered, “Can you show me the riddle again?”

I wasn’t sure it would answer me, but a moment later, the same long lines of verse scrawled on the blank page. I read it through once more, using it as a distraction against my still-heightened nerves.

An artifact of blood you then must find. After seeing each clue directed at the six different types of magic and the line about “only one shall reward you,” I was fairly confident it meant each of us had to find the single artifact related to our province—our blood. But then why were we given clues for all six?

You could try to stop the others , a voice in the back of my mind said. I had to admit, it was an intriguing thought. To be able to find Callum’s before him and ensure he’d fail.

I took a deep breath and silenced my vengeful nature. Lark had said in the debriefing that rankings were determined by speed and proficiency—meddling with Callum, even if he deserved it, would only slow me down.

Find my artifact first, win the trial.

“Find me with charm where bones and echoes reside; it is cloaked in the day, and revealed in the night.” I was positive this part of the riddle was for me. It was the only one that spoke of charms, while the others all had some hint to their own magic. Pulling the atlas from under my arm, I sat on a nearby bench bordering the elaborate palace gardens. The sweet scent of an array of flowers washed over me. Bright lilies, blooming azaleas, and delicate clusters of hydrangeas swayed in the breeze amidst green vines trailing up a large wooden canopy. Their steady, vibrant presence helped to clear my thoughts.

Somewhere bones and echoes lived. A graveyard was still the only thing that came to mind. I scoured the maps, focusing on the more detailed ones of the individual sectors. Little icons were scattered across the page, marking permanent structures and features of the city. Triangles for the small mountains in the north sector, wavy lines for rivers, a tall, domed spire for the palace in the center. There was a temple in the northwest corner of the central sector, trading posts along each compass point, and a handful of academies—most bordering the central sector, where the heaviest population likely lived. I also spotted a theater, multiple infirmaries, and a library.

While we always called the capital “Veridia City,” it wasn’t merely a single city . Perhaps it began that way, but now, small villages and communities dotted the entire island. There was so much to take in, and my eyes wanted to glaze over the little lines and emblems.

Finally, something useful caught my attention.

A black hexagon sat right next to the symbol for the palace, so small I almost missed it. The name “Silver Mausoleum” was written in tiny letters above it. A mausoleum—that would definitely have bones. And it was close by.

Another hexagonal icon labeled “Ridgemore Cemetery” rested in the far east sector. And one more in the north, near a small stretch of hills.

Three potential options. Would I be able to try all of them by midnight?

I shut the book and got to my feet. There was only one way to find out.

The Silver Mausoleum was by far the closest, located on palace grounds. I was currently at the north entrance, and the map had shown the mausoleum on the west side. Hurrying along the stone pathway lining the perimeter, I passed training fields with soldiers of the Royal Guard sparring, stone statues of majestic animals, and members of court promenading around the palace.

Their heads turned as I scurried by, whispers trailing in my wake.

I was used to that. Used to the muttered remarks of those in my province who didn’t think I could hear them. But these…these were different. They looked at me with curiosity, not scorn. Intrigue and excitement.

“She’s one of the challengers. ”

“I heard there had been a last-minute change. Think she’s from Feywood?”

“She’s young. Healthy. Might be worth keeping an eye on.”

Word of my replacing Ragnar had spread quickly, it seemed. Back in the provinces, we were too far removed to know much about what occurred during the tournaments until after the fact. But here, the people had access to news much faster. They could witness the trials as they unfolded. We were nothing more than a spectacle to them, a brief burst of entertainment after ten years of normalcy.

Still, a spectacle was better than a pariah.

The sun rose steadily in the sky as I reached the mausoleum. A giant stone structure greeted me when I rounded the last curve, easily two stories tall with a deep gray marble staircase leading to the entrance. The rectangular crypt’s towering figure rose from the ground and came to a point at the top, with two marble columns at the enormous front door. Thick vines snaked over the crumbling stone. Several crows rested on the tip of the roof, their caws echoing on the wind as leaves crunched beneath my feet.

Before the winding path in front of the entrance stood a stone tablet resting on top of a post. Etched onto it was a dedication to the deceased former monarchs and their kin, whose bones now lay inside the mausoleum.

Excitement mounted in me as I approached the staircase, the large wooden doors looming closer and closer with every step. Slowly, I reached out to grip the wrought iron handle.

Snap .

I whirled around, my hand halfway to my charms.

Nothing was there.

Letting out a long exhale, I turned back and pulled the door open, stepping into the dark, dusty crypt.

The atmosphere was dry and stale. The only light came from one large window at the front and a circular one on the ceiling, projecting a small beam of sunlight into the center. Its rays revealed trapped dust hanging in the air, a plume of it rising around the door when it shut behind me with a creak .

It wasn’t a very large building—a single room with four walls, three of which had rows and rows of marble rectangles embedded into the stone. Glancing at the nearest one, I spotted faint inscriptions carved into each, marking the resting place of late emperors and family members. I spent the next few minutes quickly scouring the space. I ran my hand along the edges of the wall, in between cracks in the stone, examining loose rock in the floor. Anything that looked out of place. But all I found were cobwebs and dead spiders. There were no doors besides the entrance, no other hallways to explore. Just this single, massive, empty room.

I was about to head back outside to walk around the structure and see if anything stood out when I remembered the second line to the Alchemist clue. It is cloaked in the day, and revealed in the night.

Well, I certainly wasn’t waiting till nightfall. If the artifact was hidden during the day, perhaps I just needed to make it dark. I rubbed at the back of my neck, wracking my mind for a charm or spell that could take away light . Where was a Shadow Wielder when I needed one?

If I could shove a tall pillar in front of the window to block the sun, or perhaps run back to the palace to find a cloak large enough to hang…but then, there was still the one on the ceiling. I could perform a levitation spell for that. Or?—

My gaze landed out the window to the sturdy green vines trailing down the marble columns. Would it be possible to…

I opened my pouch of charms and took a pinch of dandelion leaf. By itself, it was used to open—doors, locks, anything bound. But mixed with wormwood, it could expel items or bring them closer.

A summoning charm.

I put the two herbs on my tongue, focused on the sprouting vines, and muttered, “ Voquer .”

Like thick snakes winding across stone, the vines began to move. Slowly at first, then picking up speed as more followed, some crawling their way to the window and others carving a path up the side of the mausoleum until they were out of sight above my head.

The room began to darken. It was as if a blanket had been thrown over the sun, shrouding the once-lit space in eerie shadows. There was still a faint hint of light coming in from the cracks, enough for me to barely see my hand in front of my face or the window at my side. The vines pulsed and writhed, a living barrier between me and the outside world.

Looking around the room, my gaze landed on a glow emanating from one of the boxes inlaid in the stone wall.

I crossed to it and felt along the corners of the marble rectangle. My fingers found a groove on both sides, and I tugged. The piece of stone broke from the wall and sent small rocks tumbling to the floor, leaving behind a cavity large enough for a body to fit.

Instead of brittle bones and cloth coverings like I expected to see, a single purple crystal lay in the opening. An amethyst crystal, one many Alchemists wore as amulets of wisdom and prophecy.

This had to be it. My artifact from the riddle.

Heart thumping wildly, a triumphant grin pulled at my lips as I reached in to grab the crystal.

The moment I touched it, the amethyst disintegrated.

My stomach dropped. I frantically searched the small space, running my hand into each crevice, extending my arm as far as it could go into the wall.

When it was apparent the crystal had truly disappeared, I pulled my arm from the hole and let out a frustrated groan, slumping against the wall and dropping my head back until it hit the hard stone.

A warmth fluttered at my chest. Hardly noticeable at first, then increasing in heat until it practically seared through my shirt. Cursing, I fumbled with my vest pocket and pulled out the enchanted parchment. Two words blazed across the paper .

Try again.

Frustration and disappointment ripped through me, a growl building in the back of my throat as I put a thistle leaf on my tongue and said, “Finiscere.” Instantly, my summoning spell for the vines fell, and they receded from the windows back to the columns.

Daylight filtered in. And standing outside the clear window was Alaric Rinehart, shadows bursting from his hands.

I jumped to my feet in alarm. In several strides, I crossed to the door and pushed.

It wouldn’t budge.

“Alaric!” I thundered, throwing my weight against it. From the corner of my eye I watched shadows cover the window where the vines had been, once again encasing the mausoleum in darkness. “Let me out!”

Through the door came his muffled voice. “Like I said, Rose. No hard feelings.”