Free Quintessential Tales: A Magic of Solendrea Anthology by Martin Hengst Page B

shook that landing on which they stood. The door swung outward. A rush of musty air swept past them, making the hairs on the back of Serena’s neck stand on end. The torch sputtered and went out, plunging them into blackness.
    “Serena!” The sharp edge of panic in Declan’s voice was unmistakable. If he broke and tried to run, he’d kill himself trying to get down the stairs and outside.
    “I’m here. Relax, it was just wind. Hold on.”
    By touch alone, she retraced her footsteps and found her rucksack near the edge of the landing. A moment later, she’d found a torch and her tinderbox. The torch caught and shone, it seemed, as bright as the sun. The dancing orange light played over Declan’s pale face. She clapped him on the shoulder.
    “It’s okay, Declan. It was just a bit of bad air. Better out than in, right?”
    “Right.”
    Serena stepped past him into a corridor that had been sealed for who knew how long. A thick layer of dust covered the floor and kicked up in plumes and clouds as she walked. No one had been here before them. Whatever treasures had been laid to rest with these people were still there. They had to be. Her heart thundered against her ribs. She reached back and took Declan’s hand to pull him into the hallway. He stopped at the threshold, resisting her grip.
    “Come on, Declan. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
    “I’m not afraid.”
    “Then why am I practically dragging you inside?”
    Declan tore his hand from her grasp and shuffled along behind her. Serena smiled. A little bit of sibling rivalry went a long way. They’d only gone two or three hundred feet when a loud thud echoed down the corridor. Declan turned and ran back the way they had come, regardless of the fact that Serena still held the torch. She pelted along after him, hoping she was wrong about what they’d find when they reached the door. She wasn’t. The door was sealed tight.
    “No,” Declan moaned. “No. No. No, no, no.”
    “Shhh. It’ll be all right. We’ll figure it out. There’s got to be more than one way out. Like you said before, we weren’t coming in the front door. So there’s probably a front door, right?”
    “That was when I thought it was still a temple. We’re going to die down here. We’re going to be more bodies to join however many more there are waiting for us in there.”
    “Way to think positive, Declan.”
    Declan sighed, then took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. Sorry. It’s just a door. We can figure this out.”
    “See?” She clapped him on the shoulder. “There you go. It won’t be that bad. Let’s go exploring.”
    “Okay.” Declan’s eyes lingered on the door longingly. “Yeah. Okay.”
    When they went back down the hall, it seemed to take twice as long as it had the first time. Declan was jumpy and his anxiety was starting to rub off on Serena. She had a dull ache throbbing at her temples.
     
    Serena was able to ignore the pain in her head when they arrived back in the junction of the corridors. She hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a shallow basin set in the wall and a fine silver chain dangling from a hole in the ceiling beside it. As Serena reached up to give it a tug, Declan’s shoulders jerked back.
    “Hey! Wait—”
    “Shhh. Listen.” Serena held a finger up and glanced toward the ceiling. There was a muted rumble from somewhere high above, then the sound of rushing water in the walls. A moment later, a pool of black liquid seeped up from the bottom of the basin. She dipped the tip of her finger in and jerked it back, just in case it was something corrosive. She needn’t have worried. The liquid didn’t burn to the touch. She raised her finger to her nose. It smelled acrid and sharp, almost enough to start her eyes to watering. She dried her finger on her breeches and took the torch from Declan.
    “It’s blackwater,” she said, touching the torch to the basin. There was a whoosh as the fuel caught and the flame roared down