A Thousand Year Obsession ✔

46. Accept Yourself

46. Accept Yourself

Hands pressed into my shoulders, fingers digging into my skin, shaking me, shaking me urgently, purposely. My eyes flew open to darkness and I shoved the hands away, practically flinging myself out of the bed and onto my feet. My eyes scanned the darkness, but I couldn't locate a pinprick of light, just an ocean of black.

"Who's there?" My voice sounded raspy, like it brushed over sandpaper before slipping out my lips.

"Shhh--!" A male voice hissed. A hand pressed over my mouth and a second grabbed my wrist. I resisted, bitterly jerking my body backwards, but then he spoke again. "Hey--hey--it's me, Merlin."

I stopped, frozen for a second before I pushed his hands off me.

"A warning would've been nice." I sneered. "What're you doing here?"

My eyes began to adjust and I could just barely see the outline of his form.

"We're leaving. You know that escape plan we talked about before? Yeah, well, we decided the sooner the better."

He reached for my arm again but I caught his wrist.

"Wait--we're going now?"

He nodded. "Now."

"But the plan--it was just talk--we didn't actually decide anything--?"

"Elli and I sorted out the details. Come on, it's only a matter of time before one of them senses something wrong."

He grabbed my hand and dragged me after him, out the door of the bedroom and down the unnervingly silent hall. I hesitated at first, but then hurried along behind him, glancing back over my shoulder anxiously with every corner we rounded.

After I opened that note, something inside me sputtered to life, a determination, an energy. I went on a search for Merlin and Eliza, eventually finding them talking in hushed voices in some hidden closet. I wasted no time telling them the truth about the note, some strange intuition inside me telling me I could trust Merlin. And I did. He told me about of a place where the Great Sorcerers kept records. Records of events, of decisions, of people. He said for sure this Arien would be in there somewhere. If The Great Sorcerer Alaric knew of him, he had to be. The only problem was getting out of this castle. We talked about escape, about plans, but we never solidified anything, we never decided. And yet here Merlin was, rushing me through empty halls with promises of freedom.

"What's the plan, Merlin?" I hissed. "How are we supposed to get out of here? I don't even remember how I got in!"

"You don't need to." He replied. "You just need to trust me."

"How do I know if I can trust you?"

He glanced back at me. "You don't. But that's the thing about trust. It never gives you a reason. You just . . . do."

He stopped suddenly and I stumbled into him, my eyes drawn over his shoulders to the edge of the balcony only a few feet from us. I couldn't see anything below it, just empty blackness, yet I knew something was down there. I could feel it.

"Morgana." He'd turned to face me.

My eyes drew back to his and I could see the moon reflected in the twinkling translucent grey. But when I looked up all I saw were dark storming clouds. I glanced behind us, my breath catching in my throat when I took in just how big the castle really was. It looked endless, stretching forever to the heavens and reaching eternally to all corners of the earth. And here I stood, the center of a balcony above an endless pit, just outside the darkest castle anyone could ever step foot in.