She flew over to one of the golden cupids attached to the wall holding a candlestick over his head. “Pull him forward.”
I placed my hand on his head and tugged on it. A panel in the wall slid aside. I stepped inside the roughly dug tunnel and turned to face Aetnae. She waited outside. “You’re not coming?”
“No. I’m not allowed to leave the libraries. I can only enter the Fey realm.” Her smile was as small as the tip of a fingernail. “Just go until you can’t go any farther, and it’ll lead you to Santara.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I wasn’t too happy about being in a scary tunnel by myself. The panel slid back into place, and the darkness wrapped around me like thick velvet, a sense of doom hanging in the damp, moldy air.
Chapter Nineteen
The light from my globe reached out into the tunnel until I made it to the end. All that was there was a rustic brick wall with black smudges all over it. I searched for a lever or something to open the entrance. A large pile of used candles lay on the ground to the right.
I shone the light globe over the bricks. Not one was out of place.
“How do you get in?” I asked, as if the wall would answer me. Then I spotted it. Something was written above the door. It wasn’t in a language I understood, but one word stood out. Fuego. Fire.
My eyes went to the candles then to the soot on the wall.
Fire triggers the door.
I closed my fingers on my light globe and held up my open hand.
“Accendere il fuoco,” I said and a fireball formed on my palm. I touched the bricks with it, and the wall separated at the seams and opened.
The countryside was green, with many trees. I tugged my hood over my head and followed the road carved into the grass. It led me to a village with white stucco buildings and red tiled roofs. A few of them were crumbling or had burned in a fire. People stepped out of their homes as I walked along the road. In the distance, a beautiful castle was built into the side of a tall mountain.
My eyes took in the destruction around me.
It looked like there had been a battle there. Tears stung my eyes, thinking about how the men, women, and children now lining the road must have suffered. They watched me—not with hatred. Not loathing. But what looked to be hope in their eyes. An older man, dirt on the knees of his pants, skin weathered, and his white hair like cotton in the wind, approached me and handed me a cup.
I studied the water inside before drinking it down and handing him back the cup. “What happened here?”
“Our rebels were defeated,” he said. “Are you she? Gianna?”
I nodded, tears falling from my eyelashes and tumbling down my cheeks.
He bowed and hobbled along the middle of the road. “Gianna Bianchi,” he yelled. “Gianna Bianchi! Nuestra salvación!”
More heads bowed as I passed.
That last word sounded like salvation. I was just a girl. How could I be that for them? This was too big for me. I wiped my eyes with the flap of the cloak and swallowed hard, gathering the courage to continue.
As I neared the end of the street, Bastien stepped out from one of the houses. He shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand. From the condition of his clothes, he looked like he’d just climbed out of a dirt pit.
He was gorgeous in all his filthy glory, and it was like my entire body lifted, as if I could take flight and soar through the sky. And I couldn’t stay still. Couldn’t hold back. I ran for him, and he caught me in his arms.
“You’re here,” I mumbled against his shoulder, my breath heavy, my arms shaky. One of his hands cradled the back of my head while the other squeezed me to him.
“Gianna, you scared me,” he whispered. “Why weren’t you in Mantello?”
“I went to Tearmann to get the heir’s blood.” I inhaled the scent that was only him. No one ever smelled as good as he did, even covered in dirt. “I thought I would be back before—”
He released me, his brows pushed together as he studied my face. “You were careless. Why did you go off on your own? You could have been caught.”
The anger on his face made me back away from him. “I had to go.”
“Why? You could have waited for us.”
“Because Mardiana told me to go.” Now the anger in my voice matched his. “She said there was a storm coming, and we’d lose our chance to get what we needed in Tearmann.”
He ran his hand over his head, dust wafting from his hair. “And you went knowing there’d be a storm?”
“Oh, stop it, you two,” Edgar said, passing us. With my eyes stuck on Bastien, I hadn’t seen him approach. “Kiss and make up. We need to get out of here.”
I ignored Edgar’s comment. There was no way I was going to kiss and make up, not with Bastien looking at me with venom.
“I can handle myself.”
The bite in my voice startled Bastien. He pulled at his neck and lowered his head. “You frightened me. I thought—”
“You thought what?” I cut him off. “That I was a helpless girl?”
His head shot up, his focus on me. “No. I don’t think that. I was worried you’d be harmed.”
“Well, I’m fine. And why didn’t you wait for me in Mantello?”
“I knew you’d go on your own. You’re not very patient. It was either Santara or Tearmann.”
“So you chose the one that had a recent uprising?”
“Well,” he said, his voice softening. “I thought it best to try the most dangerous one first. In case you had chosen it.” He held up a small bottle with what looked to be blood inside. “I did get this from the woman inside.”
Edgar came back, eating a big chunk of bread. “We also have Esteril and Couve’s donations.”
I smiled, a half one, not fully felt. “Good. Then, Royston’s the seventh. We have everything we need.”
Bastien shielded his eyes again and inspected the road. “There is still the matter of finding the Tetrad.”
“I found it,” I said, my eyes going to where he was looking. “What is it?”
“We need to take these people with us.” He spun around to look at the castle. “How did you get here? Asile guards have blocked the entrance into Santara, and I placed a charm on it to block them.”
“Through a Talpar tunnel.”
“There is no way to take an entire village with us,” Edgar said. “They won’t harm the villagers. A king needs subjects to rule.”
Edgar was right. The council wouldn’t harm people who could work and make them rich. There was a cart on the side of the road. I climbed up on it.
Bastien reached out a hand to me. “What are you doing? Get down.”
I ignored him and yelled, “Hello, everyone.” Those who weren’t watching us already turned their heads. “Um…I am Gianna Bianchi McCabe. Great-granddaughter of Gian Bianchi, and the presage from Agnost’s prophesy.” The people gathered closer to the cart. “I know this is a scary time.”
The old man who had given me water translated what I was saying to the crowd.
“What I have to do is risky. If I fail, the storm will come.” I waited for the man to translate. Concern crossed their faces, and they whispered among themselves. I swallowed a deep breath to calm my nerves, to push down my fear.