Secrets of blooming estate book one

Chapter eleven the keeper of shadows

Sophia descended into the depths beneath the Garden, the cold air growing heavier with each step. The staircase seemed to spiral endlessly, its stone steps slick with moisture and moss. The faint glow from the torches held by the Society members above barely penetrated the oppressive darkness that clung to the narrow corridor.

Her mind raced with the implications of what she had discovered. The Threshold, Eleanor's warnings, the Keeper of Shadows—these were not mere legends. This was real, and the Garden had been keeping its darkest secrets buried beneath its roots for centuries. As she ventured deeper, Sophia felt the weight of Eleanor's unfinished mission pressing down on her. She wasn't just following in her ancestor's footsteps; she was being led to something far greater than she could have ever imagined.

The air grew colder, and the oppressive weight of the earth above her made it harder to breathe. The walls seemed to pulse, almost alive, as if the very heart of the Garden was reaching out to her, pulling her down further into its depths. Beatrice had warned her—once she crossed the Threshold, there would be no turning back.

Finally, the staircase ended, and Sophia stepped into a vast underground chamber. The room was massive, its vaulted ceiling lost in the shadows above. Strange, twisting roots covered the walls, glowing faintly with an eerie, otherworldly light. In the center of the room stood an ancient stone door, twice the height of a man, covered in intricate carvings that seemed to shift and writhe in the dim light. The door radiated a malevolent energy, one that sent a shiver down Sophia's spine.

This had to be the Threshold. The door that separated the physical world from the Garden's true heart—where the Keeper of Shadows waited.

Behind her, the Society members gathered in silence, their faces hidden beneath their hoods. Beatrice stepped forward, her expression grim.

"This is as far as we go," Beatrice said, her voice low. "The door can only be opened by you, Sophia. The power of the Garden flows through your bloodline—through Eleanor's bloodline. But once you cross through, we can't follow. The Keeper will allow only you to pass."

Sophia swallowed hard, her hand tightening around the black rose she carried. Its thorns pricked her skin, a reminder of the power it held, and the responsibility that now rested on her shoulders. She took a deep breath and stepped toward the Threshold, feeling the eyes of the Society members on her.

"How do I open it?" Sophia asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Beatrice pointed to the center of the stone door, where a circular depression had been carved into the surface. "Place the rose there," she said. "The rose is the key. It will unlock the path."

Sophia hesitated, staring at the glowing carvings on the door. They seemed to pulse with a life of their own, almost as if they were watching her. She could feel the power radiating from the door—ancient, dark, and waiting.

She stepped forward, raising the black rose in her hand. The closer she got to the door, the more the rose seemed to react, its petals shimmering with an unnatural light. With trembling hands, she placed the rose into the depression in the stone.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, with a deep, rumbling sound, the door began to shift. The carvings along its surface glowed brighter, and the stone slowly slid open, revealing a dark, yawning abyss beyond. The air that flowed from the opening was cold and stale, carrying with it the scent of ancient earth and something far darker, something Sophia couldn't quite name.

Sophia stared into the blackness beyond the door, her heart racing. This was it—the final step. The point of no return.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Beatrice's voice cut through the silence, her tone uncharacteristically soft. "Once you step through that door, there's no telling what you'll find. The Keeper... it may not let you return."