I certainly wasn’t. She’d been one step ahead of us all along, so it would be stupid to think that she’d be unprepared when it came to her remaining bolt-holes. She had to be aware by now that we’d already destroyed—or otherwise made unusable—at least three of her ceremony and storage sites.
We continued across the vast space. As my eyes got used to the deeper darkness of this place, I realized that most of the shelves held a mix of tableware, home décor, and glassware, from all over the world. Some of the names stamped on the crates I recognized, and they were definitely upmarket. If Margaret Kendrick was another identity of Lauren’s—or Mike’s, given that we had no idea which form or sex our shape-shifter actually preferred—then she was obviously doing rather well. There was a fortune’s worth of stock sitting in this warehouse alone.
About three-quarters of the way across the warehouse, Azriel made a sharp turn left. The laden shelving towered above us and made it seem like we were walking through a canyon. Ahead a green exit sign glowed brightly at the top of a single doorway.
I frowned. That’s the rear wall of the warehouse—are we heading back out again?
I doubt it, given the energy I feel is below, not aboveground. He stopped at the doorway and lightly pressed his fingertips against the sturdy metal door. Nothing happened. Be wary. Whatever it is I feel, it lies beyond this door.
I nodded and drew Amaya. Her hiss was a sound of displeasure. Draw sooner, she muttered. Safer.
Not when there’s nothing attacking, I replied. Don’t tell me you’re bored back there, Amaya.
Not, she replied, somewhat huffily. Concerned am.
I grinned and stepped back a little as Azriel raised Valdis and shoved her point into the door’s deadlock. With very little fuss, her flames melted both the lock and the bolt, and the door swung silently open.
It looked altogether too much like an invitation for my liking.
The door didn’t open to the outside world, but, as Azriel had suspected, into a basement area. The stairs leading down into deeper darkness were concrete, and the air smelled reasonably fresh. But it was too black to be ordinary darkness, even if there was no immediate sense of danger. I certainly couldn’t smell anything that represented any sort of threat.
And I can’t sense anything because of that foul energy. His expression was grim when his gaze met mine. This time, you will stay behind me.
I nodded. While I might not be able to feel any threat, the fact that he couldn’t was enough to have warning bells ringing. Be careful. The dark sorceress is aware of what you are, and she’s had the time—and no doubt the coaching from Lucian—to work out some way of nullifying your presence.
I am aware of that. Watch the first step—it is deeper than it looks.
I gripped the cold metal handrail and stepped down into the stairwell. The shadows seemed deeper for some reason, and tension rolled through me. While I wished we could use the swords to light our way, that would only be a warning to whoever—whatever—might lay below that we were coming.
Azriel headed down cautiously. I followed, keeping close to his back, Amaya’s mutterings a sharp accompaniment to the gathering sense of expectation.
Azriel reached the final step and paused. I peered over his shoulder. Ahead in the distance light glowed, but it was a strange blue-black color that flickered and danced. Candlelight.
Yes. And the energy comes from the room at the end of this hall, as well.
And you still can’t sense anything?
No. He glanced at me. But if there is candlelight, then someone has lit it.
Maybe. And maybe not. After all, we were dealing with someone who had the capability of making transport stones. Just because she had been here didn’t mean she still was.
We crept on. The long corridor was narrow, meaning even if I had wanted to walk beside him, I couldn’t. My grip tightened on Amaya and her background noise ratcheted up. The odd violet-black light continued to dance and flicker, and my skin crawled. I might not be able to sense the energy or magic that Azriel was, but something still felt very wrong.
We reached the open doorway. Azriel stopped, forcing me to do the same. Flames flickered briefly down Valdis’s blade, but they were very similar in color to the light that crawled from the room beyond, and almost unnoticeable.
Anything? I asked.
Only the candles. He glanced at me. Which only makes me suspect something is, indeed, here. Watch our backs.
I licked my lips and nodded. He stepped into the room, then paused, body tense. Nothing happened. I pressed my back against the wall and followed him in. The room was largish but unlike the other underground chambers we’d discovered, as there was no shelving here, either hewn into the walls or freestanding. There was a table, and markings on the floor I suspected were incantations of some kind, but no pentagram and certainly no altar.
There were, however, two cuneiform stones. They were smaller, darker, than their kin, and had once stood in a square windowless room within a property that had been inhabited by several—now dead—Razan.
At least we now knew where the damn things had gone. But did that mean this space was a recently created one? The etchings on the floor didn’t look new, but that didn’t mean all that much.
Light flickered in the middle of the room, brighter and fiercer than the candlelight. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, but it sent my pulse rate into overdrive. Something was very definitely about to happen, and I really wasn’t sure either of us should be here when it did.
Then perhaps you should follow instinct and leave, Azriel said.