The Curse of the Blessed

Chapter Twenty-Four

We all woke early the next morning, so early that the sun had not yet risen. It was still light out, though, that early sort of morning light that makes everything look grey.

I was the first to wake. I sat up slowly, adrenaline sparking suddenly through me as I remembered what we were here for. This was the end to our quest. This was the reason we'd left our village in the first place. This was it—the big event—the day when we would discover whether or not we were good enough, and powerful enough, to do what needed to be done.

The weight of it was heavy on my shoulders.

Reed's voice cut into the silence of the forest. "We're all awake."

"Are we?" Lark asked in a soft whisper.

"Yes," said Bran. He sat up. "Can we eat breakfast and get going? I'm... fidgety. I hate it. I hate everything about waiting. I just want to get it over with."

Reed and Lark sat up, too, and Reed nodded. "We might as well. At this point, we're just wasting energy and daylight."

"Great." Bran grinned, but the grin was shaky. "What are we going to eat? Can it be something quick, like the stuff we got from the ship?"

"Yes," I agreed. "The longer we wait, the more high-strung we'll be. Bran might accidentally zap the wrong person."

He glared at me. "I would not."

"You never know," said Lark. "Accidents happen."

"I would not," he repeated, turning to Reed. "Tell them. Help me out here."

Reed just shrugged. "I'd rather not speak in support of something I'm not actually sure of."

"Fine."

"Breakfast time now?" Lark suggested.

"Sounds great," said Bran. "Let's eat."

A little under an hour later, we packed up our things and headed toward the Magician's cave. It took forever to get there. Every small creature in the underbrush—every morning bird singing in the treetops—every crackle of leaves or sticks under our feet startled me into alertness, my eyes darting from side to side to see if it was the Magician, come here to kill us.

I was both relieved and intimidated when we arrived at the cave. With the golden morning light swooping between the trees, bringing warmth and making the forest feel like a magical land in a fairy tale, the black emptiness of the hole was even more terrifying than it had been before. The sunlight barely seemed to penetrate it, shedding just enough light so that we could see that the tunnel continued on straight for the first few yards.

"Are we ready?" said Reed.

We all nodded.

"Good."

With a few fluid, sweeping strokes, he drew something on his forearm and conjured it out. It was a torch. Instead of fire, however, there was pure light at the tip, as though he'd wrapped it in sunbeams. He quickly conjured another one and handed it to me.

"You and Bran stick together," he said. "Lark and I will do the same. The four of us should try not to get separated, but even if we do, as long as we're still in pairs and each pair has a torch, it should be all right. Sound good?"

"Sounds great," I said.

Lark and Bran nodded.

Reed grinned at us and entered the cave, Lark close behind him.

"Are you ready?" I asked Bran.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Together, we stepped into the darkness. Our torch reflected off the walls, conjuring ghost versions of ourselves, yet somehow managing not to illuminate anything further away than a foot or two. Lark and Reed had already disappeared.