The Library

A Dark Corridor

Allina ran to the curtains again, but they refused to open. Then she had a bright idea: perhaps there was another way out.

She scanned the room. The only exits were the curtain and, maybe, the closet door. So she headed toward the closet, which had a creaky wooden door. Allina wasn't sure she wanted to go in: it was so dark inside she couldn't see a thing.

But she stepped forward, and immediately found herself wading through cobwebs, crumpled fabric, and empty beakers. She held her arms out, fingers grazing the sides of the corridor. The dirt floor began to slope down beneath her; after a few minutes of walking, it turned to cold stone. Then she hit a wall.

"Ow," Allina muttered, rubbing her forehead. She realized she hadn't hit stone: she'd hit metal.

Ignoring the pain in her head, Allina felt around and found metal rungs. A ladder. She pulled at the rungs, to make sure they'd hold her weight. They passed the test, so little Allina clambered up the ladder, her face hard with determination.

Once Allina realized she had climbed far up, far up enough to make her nervous and dizzy, she reached one hand above her head. It hit a trapdoor made of rough stone. She tried and tried to push it open, but the trapdoor wouldn't budge. Then she tried to pull it down, shove it side to side, and punch it, but nothing worked.

Allina bit her lip and clambered back down. She felt along the entire length of the hallway for hidden doors, tripping over debris as she did so. There was nothing, so she went back to the room with the curtain, pouting.

Again, she went to the journal. After the translated logs, most of the entries were about spells and potions.

Allina looked at the wand in the chest. She picked it up: she felt powerful with it in her hands, like she could part oceans and move mountains and split the sky open. And, just perhaps, she could get past the curtain.

She flipped the page and began to read the spells.