Winter Moon (Jelsa)

Chapter 9: Jack

"The Night Sector better be worth all this trouble," Flynn grumbled.

We trudged down the corridor, leaving footprints in two inches worth of dust. Cobwebs were threaded their way through the ceiling. Hiccup batted at them anxiously. 

Merida walked at the front of the group, a long knife in hand. She had removed it from her satchel as we descended the steps. I walked behind her, staff held aloft with the lantern, creating a protective circle of light around our group. Flynn and Hiccup brought up the rear. 

"Think of it as an adventure," I told Flynn. We had been walking for almost an hour now. I hoped the passage would end soon.

"What's that up ahead?" Merida gestured towards the gloomy depths ahead of us. Several steps ahead of us was a gigantic metal door. There was no knob or knocker, but the door was covered completely in intricate carvings.

I raised the lit staff to study the carvings and reeled back in surprise. There were hundreds of tiny illustrations covering the front of the door. Thorny roses and eclipsed suns. Ominous images like that. But that wasn't what scared me.

Dead center, wearing a jagged crown, was the King of Nightmares. Pitch Black.

From what I could see, it was definitely him. I could recognize his ugly pointed chin anywhere. He was wearing a long robe and had a wicked-looking staff in his hands. 

A torrent of memories flooded through me. I forced them back. I didn't need three hundred years of complicated history to catch up with me. 

"How does it open?" Hiccup wondered, leaning back to study the door. If anything, Hiccup liked a good puzzle.

"No clue," Flynn propped his back against the wall and looked at the door from an angle.

Hesitantly, I reached out and touched a carving of a snowflake.

Suddenly, the door rumbled and slowly began to slide away, making a screechy grinding noise as it did so. I was glad that Pitch's face slowly disappeared.

"Now everyone knows we're here," Merida moaned but marched into the opening the door had left. 

"How'd you do that?" Hiccup asked. "Wait. More importantly, is it safe to go in there?"

"Probably not," I answered. "And I don't know how I opened the door. All I did was touch it."

"Even doors need physical affection," Flynn remarked.

"Holy sh-" Merida began.

We all turned to look into the room. It was small, like a narrow, short hallway. But it was tall. Taller than the door even.

And it was full of books. 

Shelves lined every possible space from the floor to the ceiling. An extinguished chandelier hung from an iron chain, and a small desk and chair were situated in the middle. A few rolls of parchment were stacked neatly on the desk. 

"I wonder how much one of these books is worth," Flynn speculated, lightly tapping the spine of a book. 

I studied the titles. Most of these were in ancient languages, but a few were in languages I could actually read. They said things like The History of Aventrine or Speculations of the Legend of Izmul. 

Aventrine? What was that? I had no idea was Izmul was either. 

"Look at this one!" Merida had pulled a huge book off one of the bottom shelves and laid it it on the desk where it nearly took up all of the space. She opened it to a random page. 

The picture on the page was gruesome. A girl with a long sheet of white-blonde hair stood on a battlefield strewn with corpses. Severed heads and blood speckled armor littered the gray expanse. 

The girl was wearing a golden helmet that obscured most of her face. Her hair was loose and tumbled over her shoulders, covering the top half of her battle armor. In one hand was a sword, which was pointed unflinchingly at her opponent. I couldn't see too many details, but the sword seemed pretty epic. 

The girl's opponent was Pitch. 

I hated that guy.

I took in a few other details. The standoff between Warrior-Girl and Pitch took place at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a vast forest. A few mountains bordered the edges. The sky was painted blood red.

"Real cheerful," I muttered.

"No kidding," Flynn said.

"Who's that?" Merida tapped Warrior-Girl's head.

"And that," Hiccup tapped Pitch's.

Of course they wouldn't know. I knew exactly who Pitch was, but as for Warrior-Girl? No idea. Before I could turn the page, the lantern's light stuttered.

"We have to go," I glanced nervously at the top of my staff. The lantern light flickered and trembled, like someone was trying to put it out. I frowned. All light in Skyara was magical. It never went out. Something was definitely wrong.

The lantern light flickered again. The shadows seemed to press tighter towards us. It was horrifyingly familiar.

"Let's go," Merida grabbed Flynn by the arm, who looked like he was trying to steal one of the books. 

"Don't take anything," I said as we hurried out of there. 

Flynn opened his mouth to say something - likely a joke - but the lantern dimmed, and we all broke into a run. 

"Does anyone have an extra light?" Hiccup gasped as we sprinted down the long passageway. 

"Nope. Didn't think we'd need it," Merida replied. 

We ran in silence after that. Conserving our breath and only stopping when we had to. I considered using my magic to rekindle the lantern, but my specialty wasn't light. It was ice. And no one in our group knew I had magic. If I revealed it to them, there would be serious consequences.

The light dimmed even further. 

Up ahead, I noticed the stairs that led back into the building above this passageway. We were so close.

I surged ahead, and just as my foot touched the first step, the light died out, plunging us into utter darkness.

For a moment, we all froze. I could have sworn sinister laughter echoed in the air. 

"Go," Flynn hissed. "Straight ahead."

We fumbled our way up the stairs in the darkness. I could hear scuffling behind me. My friend's footsteps. My hand hit the door. I fumbled for the knob and yanked it open.

My friends and I piled into the room, shutting the door firmly behind us, not stopping until we were back in the alleyway.

"That. Was Too. Close," Hiccup said in between breaths.

"I am never going on an adventure again," Flynn agreed.

I glanced between the two, a sudden feeling of dread coiled in my gut.

"Guys, where's Merida?"