The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(98)
Wouldn’t think about Mama.
She wanted to put distance between herself and the chests lined up behind her, but her legs refused to hold her, and when she tried to crawl, she crumpled to the floor. It was worse—so much worse—to struggle and fail than it was to just sit and hope the fear would settle.
Lucian had found her moments after Dinah threw her down into the cellar and locked the door. He’d called to her, listened to her frantic gasps for air, and patted the floor in the darkness until he’d reached her side.
His hands were cold, the bravado in his voice thin as glass, but he’d immediately realized that Blue was in trouble. He’d stayed with her, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, his voice trying so hard to sound calm as she struggled to breathe past the noose of panic that was closing about her neck. When she’d finally been able to speak, she’d told him where to find the alluminae. Being locked in the cellar was bad enough. Being locked in utter darkness was terrifying.
“Did you find it?” she asked, her teeth chattering as images from her nightmares spun through her thoughts.
Blood on the dirt floor.
Mama lying broken and still.
Silence as her breath left her body.
Blue’s magic coiled in her hands, useless to bring Mama back.
“I think so,” Lucian said. There was a small crash, and he swore. “Broke something.”
“That’s all right.” Blue drew a deep breath and hugged herself tighter. “Just back away from it. I have all kinds of things down here. I don’t want you accidentally exposed to something dangerous.”
“Whatever I broke smells awful.” His footsteps shuffled along the edge of the wall.
“Once you reach the shelf with the ceramic jars, turn toward the sound of my voice,” Blue said.
She’d use the alluminae to give them some light. And then she’d figure a way out of the cellar. Surely she had something stored down here that could help. She tried racking her brain to find an answer, but her thoughts were hazy with panic, and it was all she could do not to relive her worst nightmare over and over again.
It didn’t matter if she couldn’t find a solution off the top of her head. Once she had light, she could see her inventory. Once she could see the inventory, she could see the possibilities. And once she could see possibilities, she could find a way out and warn Kellan and his family that Dinah was releasing the wraith and coming for them.
“I’m at the jars.”
“All right, turn toward the middle of the room.” Her voice was thready. She tried taking a slower breath, forcing herself to hold it for a quick moment before exhaling. “I’m here. Watch out for the chests. Move slowly.”
She kept talking to him as he shuffled toward her, and then he was at her side, pressing a sheaf of alluminae into her hands. The long, graceful strands of flax were dry and soft. A thin cord tied the sheaf together in the middle. Blue swept her trembling fingers over the flax until she reached the small bundles of dried seedpods near the top of the sheaf. She squeezed the pods until they cracked open, releasing the pale glow of the alluminae seeds within. The seeds had a silvery-white sheen, like a candle made of starlight.
“This will give us hours of light,” she said, her voice already steadier as the darkness crept back, taking its nightmares with it.
She could do this. She could survive inside the root cellar long enough to find a way out of it. She had to.
Quickly, she divided the sheaf into seven equal sections. Laying one of the smaller sheaves on the chest behind her to illuminate the center of the room and lead them back to the ladder, she gave five sheaves to Lucian, keeping one for herself. “Set one at each corner of the room so we can see the entire space and keep one for yourself so you can move around safely.”
He did as she asked, and she slowly climbed to her feet, clutching her sheaf to her chest. Her knees shook, and her stomach pitched as the walls tried to close in on her. She forced herself to breathe evenly. To ignore the frantic cadence of her heartbeat.
Kellan, Nessa, and the queen needed her to think. To plan. She couldn’t do that if she let her fear overwhelm her. Glancing at the shelves on the wall to her left, she mumbled the names and scientific properties of each item as she slowly shuffled toward it, her body still shaking like a leaf trapped in a windstorm.
“Bolla root: dried, not minced. Good for strengthening potions, protection from illness or harm, and longevity. Edible. Doesn’t bond with syphur weed, korash acid, or mink’s foot herb.” She crept closer. “Huckleberry: dried and ground. Good for luck, protection, restful sleep, and dissolving bad potions. Doesn’t bond with syphur weed, hembane, or chorra wood.”
This was good. She could think about the ingredients on her shelves. Concentrate on how to combine them, on what to produce. She could fill her thoughts with these and nothing else, and she could survive being in the root cellar a little longer.
“Did you say something?” Lucian asked, his voice calmer now that there was light in all four corners of the room.
“Just looking at what I have on the shelves. Deciding what to use to get us out of here.” And what to use to stop Dinah and the wraith before they hurt the royal family.
Panic tightened Blue’s throat again, and she beat it back. She would destroy the wraith. She had to. She couldn’t lose anyone else she loved.
As the soft light of the alluminae filled the room, Blue paced its length, cataloging her inventory, discarding options nearly as fast as she thought of them.