Ancient Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Huntress #1)(29)

His lips looked so good—full and warm.

Do it.

His forest scent wrapped around me, drawing me closer. His magic caressed me, stroking over my skin like silk. When his big hand squeezed my shoulder lightly, I leaned into it, relishing his strength.

His power surged, as if he liked me leaning on him. He was a predator—of course he liked it when his prey gave in.

The thought shocked me into action. I pulled away. Not only was this a bad idea, we weren’t the only ones here.

“Let’s go,” I said. “Whoever came before us is probably already in the tomb.”

He pulled me to him. “You wanted that too.”

The desire surged again, making my breath come short. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“A kiss.” His husky voice sent a shiver across my skin.

“I didn’t.”

He grinned. He was so handsome I almost hated him. How was I supposed to resist that? Especially after everything I’d felt while we were flying?

“Liar,” he said “But you’re right. Now isn’t the time.”

“Never is the time.” I spun and raced toward the exit, eyeing the ground in front of me for anything suspicious. Normally I didn’t run through enchanted places like this unless I had to, but whoever came before us would have probably tripped any enchantments, so I took the risk.

Once again, the tunnel was an exit. I hoped like hell that the next cavern was our destination.

Aidan was close behind me, but even his forest-fresh scent couldn’t drown out the smell of rotten fish in the air. It was getting stronger. The lightstone illuminated carvings on the tunnel walls, even more than before. We were getting closer. I couldn’t look carefully as I ran, but I could make out writing, maps, images. Weird.

A chill in the air washed over me, more than the normal cold. The smell of ice and snow froze my nose.

“You feel that?” Aidan asked.

“Yeah.” And it was disturbingly familiar. Fear hit me, acid and sharp. “Phantoms.”

Silvery light drifted out from the walls, coalescing into the ghostly forms of men draped in cloaks. More monks? They shimmered so that it was hard to make out their features, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t need to see them—they only needed to see you.

“Try to protect your mind,” I said, as I ran faster. “You can’t fight Phantoms. They create nightmares inside your head.”

Second to being tossed in the Prison for Magical Miscreants, I was most afraid of Phantoms. I tried to build a steel cage around my mind as I ran, but I knew it wouldn’t work. There were too many. They stood along the tunnel walls on either side, stretching as far as my eye could see.

“Intruders,” they whispered.

“Thieves,” they hissed.

“FireSoul.”

They reached out with silvery hands, clawing for me but not leaving their place at the wall. Phantoms couldn’t touch you, but they didn’t need to. The pain hit me as they went for my mind. The cold tendrils of their dark magic reached inside my head, weaseling through my brain. I stumbled as the pain pierced me like an icepick through the eye.

They were going for my worst memories, but they didn’t know that those were hidden from me by the pain that welled every time I tried to uncover them. My stomach lurched at the torture, and I nearly vomited as they pushed harder inside my head. I stumbled to my knees. Aidan’s big hands lifted me to my feet. He started to pick me up, but even through my pain, my stubbornness surged.

I took care of myself or I wasn’t Cass Clereaux. I didn’t know my past self—I wasn’t about to lose my present self as well. Sweat dampened my skin as I ran, trying to get past the Phantoms as quickly as possible.

The worst of the pain was fading as the Phantoms abandoned my memories in favor of my fears. An image of my deirfiúr being thrown into the Prison for Magical Miscreants tore through my mind. The cell was dank and dark and the iron bars thick.

Horror lurched in my belly, but at least the pain had faded enough that I could run. If I’d slowed, I knew that Aidan would have thrown me over his shoulder.

My lungs burned as we raced down the corridor, our feet pounding on the stone. The rancid air that I sucked into my lungs tasted foul, but I needed it. Even Aidan’s breathing sounded loud beside me.

Darkness loomed ahead, and gratitude welled within me. No glowing silver light meant no more Phantoms lining the walls.

We burst through into a small, dark chamber and stumbled to a halt, panting.

“Why did they keep saying traitor?” Aidan asked, leaning on his knees.

I glanced up at him from my similar position. “Your worst memories or your greatest fears. It’s their weapon.”

I wondered if being a traitor was his worst memory or his greatest fear, but he was silent. I was just grateful he hadn’t heard them saying FireSoul. Only I had heard that. Phantoms didn’t speak the way humans did—they just reflected your fears back at you, using your mind. Though it was hell to be around them, I didn’t have to worry about them spreading my secret because they didn’t communicate normally.

“I’d bet the phantom monks built this place when they were alive,” I said. “When they died, they stuck around as phantoms to protect it.”

“What, they were a rival holy order that stole the scroll?”