Pursing my lips, I blow gently on the drying wax before folding the letter, gently sticking it in the top of my gown. The warm and comforting place next to Kane in the bed is taunting me, but I have important things to do before I rest. It has become evident that if Drogaem is to be beaten, or at least held back until Kane can regain his strength, I will need to be the one that does it. While Drogaem does have control over my physical movements when he wishes, I am in much better shape than Kane is at the moment.
I stand up and gently push in the chair, making sure to leave the place the same as when I entered. I hide the wax stick and the seal in the back of the empty drawer and pick up the candle. Things have changed so much since I first got here. So many things have happened. The little human that most didn't believe would survive the first week under Kane's thumb, has become the only person who is capable of saving everyone from Drogaem's murderous plot. Even I'm overwhelmed at the thought of it, but I must keep going.
Tonight I'm making a move, a dangerous one.
Reaching out to the rebels is something that can cause even more damage than before, but it is necessary. I will leave the letter near their training grounds in hopes that they have eyes watching. It is the last place I saw any of the rebels. But before I do that, there is something much more pressing that needs to be handled.
The night that Drogaem returned to his body, my dagger was lost. Being under his spell at the time, I don't remember what happened to it. However, the first night I spoke to Kane, he told me secretly that it had slid off into the shadows within the tomb beneath the castle. Drogaem never went back to get it, not suspecting that it was actually an enchanted and spelled dagger.
My feet barely touch down on the stone floors as I hurry from the room and down the hallway. I keep my eyes peeled, though I'm pretty sure at this point Drogaem is either asleep or lost in his own thoughts. He is incredibly self-absorbed, which works perfectly for me.
Taking the route back to the entrance to the tombs sends shivers up my spine. I haven't been back here since everything happened. I don't hesitate at the door though, I turn the corner and carefully head down the dark stairwell, running my finger along the stone as it curves around and down to the bottom. There is a cold chill that separates the catacombs from the rest of the Castle. It is pitch dark down here, and though I consider using my light to see, I know that I have to allow that power to rest as much as possible.
I do remember the layout down here like a bad dream. Three steps and to my right, just above my head, should be a torch. Below it, if they are still here, should be strips of soaked cotton to wrap around the end and matches to light the flame. I heighten my other senses and very carefully step forward with my hand up until it rests on the wooden handle of the torch. I lift it off the wall and then pat my hand around below until I feel the long scraps of cloth. Luckily, it's still damp. I wrap several around the end of the torch, but when my hand comes back down, I can't find the matches anywhere.
I've already been down here far too long, and I need to find the dagger and get out before I'm caught. Hurriedly, I take in a deep breath and put out my palm. I close my eyes and feel the heat begin to rise inside of me. I imagine what I want, even though I've never actually tried to use it for this purpose. I raise my hand up to the end of the torch and snap my fingers. There's a brief moment of brightness, and then I hear the crackling of the fire. I open my eyes and stare at the end of the torch, lit brightly with flames. The corner of my mouth twitches, but I hold back my excitement and pride for what I just accomplished. There's no time for that right now.
Picking up the front of my dress, I hurry down, wrinkling my nose the closer I get to the onyx slab were Drogaem's body once sat. When I reach the empty tomb, I find that the slab is still there, as is the caked and dried blood and several mortal bodies decaying in the corner. I hold the torch toward them, covering my mouth with my hand. Their bodies are bloated, and their skin is purple, and between the sight and smell of it, my stomach turns.
I hold the torch higher, looking all around the space. I don't see the dagger anywhere, and I'm desperately hoping that it didn't end up behind one of the mortal bodies. As I step forward, though, I hear the scraping of metal across the stone, and I looked down to find my dagger hidden in the shadows beneath the onyx slab. A small breath of relief is released, and I pick it up. Turning it right and left, I can see the shimmer that radiates along the blade. Having it in my hand again feels almost poetic.
I quickly lift up my skirt and place the dagger in a small leather-bound sheath I had made before Drogaem came back, and had strapped it to my thigh this morning when I decided today was the day. With it snugly inside, I suddenly feel a bit
