ECHOES IN THE DARK
452 Words
CHAPTER 10
The tunnels beneath Elvaria Palace groaned like the bones of a long-forgotten beast. Arabelle’s breath came fast as her boots skimmed the damp stone, her skirts bunched in one hand, sword clutched in the other. Darius was right behind her, his presence steady — and maddening.
“Remind me again,” he muttered, ducking a low beam, “why we’re trusting a coded message from someone named ‘Sparrow’ scribbled in lemon ink?”
“Because Sparrow has saved my life three times,” Arabelle hissed. “And because if we don’t reach the Hollow Chamber before dawn, Harland wins.”
Darius didn’t argue. He hadn’t since they'd escaped into the tunnels hours ago — running from guards loyal to Harland, from suspicion, from the kingdom that once called them royalty.
But it wasn’t just guards chasing them now. It was truth.
They reached a junction, and Arabelle paused, lighting a small torch. The flame flickered across a carved sigil — a sparrow etched into the stone wall, wings outstretched.
“This is it,” she breathed.
The Hollow Chamber lay just beyond — a hidden vault said to house centuries-old ledgers, secret treaties, even outlawed scrolls. If Sparrow’s message was right, it now held the final piece of proof: Harland’s coded plans, smuggled into the archives by a royal scribe weeks ago.
Darius placed a hand on her shoulder, firm. “If this goes wrong—”
“You’ll blame me forever?” she asked with a raised brow.
“I was going to say I’d protect you.” His voice was quiet now. “Even if the whole kingdom turns against us.”
Arabelle’s throat tightened. But before she could answer, the sound of boots echoed in the tunnel behind them.
“Go!” she snapped, pushing open the stone door.
They slipped into the Hollow Chamber — ancient, cold, and vast. Scrolls lined the walls like the veins of history. Dust hung in the air, but something felt wrong. A flicker of movement.
Darius pulled her behind a shelf just as a shadow stepped into the room. Not a guard.
Mira.
But her eyes were wild. “You weren’t supposed to come yet,” she whispered. “It’s a trap.”
Before Arabelle could react, another figure emerged from the darkness — cloaked in crimson.
Lord Harland.
“Well, well,” he drawled. “Curiosity, it seems, is hereditary.”
Guards flanked him. Swords drawn.
“Take them.”
Arabelle raised her weapon, back pressed to Darius. Outnumbered. Outmatched. But not outwitted — not yet.
“We’re not finished,” she whispered.
He smiled. “Then let’s write the next chapter in blood.”
To be continued...
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