Page 64 of Lady Knight and the Thief

Cypress nodded to Torren, giving him the slightest acknowledgment.

“The tomb will be through these trees, don’t go inside until I tell you the way is clear,” Torren said, and collected his horses' reins to lead them all toward shade.

“Because of…wards?” Cypress thought that was the term he’d used before, but she wasn’t sure.

He nodded. “Yes. Wards. Like… sentient magic. It is what warned us that the hounds had awoken, and what keeps intruders out.”

“So the guardian is the first line of defense, the ward the second?”

Torren nodded. “Yes.”

From behind the trees, a hulking, black tomb rose above the ground. Steam floated through the air above it, water evaporating in the heat of the day.

The tomb had four slanted sides that met at the apex, where a large cap of white stone sat. The entrance was on one of the four sides, an arch leading down a set of stairs into the belly of the earth.

Cypress’s heart skipped a beat when Torren approached the building, and the air around it rippled with iridescent light. Using another length of rope, he tied the lead horse to a nearby tree and then checked the ties to the other horses to ensure they wouldn’t come apart. They would all have enough space to graze on the long grasses and flowers dotting the ground beneath the tree.

“Did you see that?” She asked.

“That was the ward, Lass.”

“And you’re sure the horses will be safe?”

Torren heaved a sigh. “Yes, Lass. They will be safe. Can you stop questioning everything?”

“No. Probably not.”

Shaking his head, Torren said, “Come, link hands with me.”

Cypress narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

In response, Torren rolled his storm grey eyes back at her. “So the ward will let you pass as well.”

She huffed a dramatic sigh, but did as he had requested anyway.

Then, they were walking down down down, into the belly of the tomb, Cypress’s hand clutched in Torren’s larger one.

23

Song Stone

Onceinsidethetomb,it was like stepping directly into the maw of the underworld. No light shone through the open archway. The air Cypress breathed smelled of brimstone and putrid sulfur, burning her nose.

The stairs themselves seemed hewn from the ground, uneven and broken in several places, and incredibly steep. When Cypress put a hand out to steady herself on the wall, she nearly let out a shriek of surprise, feeling the cold, damp moss and lichen, the spiderwebs coating them in a thick shroud.

After that, Cypress kept her hand tucked closely to her side. Torren still hadn’t released her other hand, leading them deeper and deeper into the embrace of the tomb.

“Have you been down here?” Cypress whispered, unable to hold back the question.

“Once, when I was a lad. And once more, after the wards alerted A'aravos Paravale of the disturbances.”

“If the beast is gone, why does this place still feel so…” Cypress started, unable to place the feeling the tomb gave off.

“Haunted?” Torren chuckled quietly. “Any place made into a resting place of eternally restless beings is bound to feel the effects, Lass.”

At the condescending tone of his voice, Cypress had to resist the urge to shove Torren down the stairs.

The descent seemed to take an age; the stairs circled around a chasm in a tight spiral.