Page 262 of Awakened

I bark out a laugh, and when she raises a brow, I explain, “All I had growing up were books. It’s the only thing my father didn’t regulate, and he kept our library well-stocked. My favorites were always fantasy, and I was thinking that only someone who grew up reading the same kind of books would call this a hidden chamber. Because I did the same in my head.”

“I knew we were going to be best friends.” She laughs, and the sound is giddy and full of excitement.

The chamber is massive. It stretches wide from one side to the other, with a ceiling arched so high our voices echo even at their lowest volume. The domed ceiling itself is astonishing, and not something I would ever expect to see underground.

I can’t tell from here, but I’m fairly sure it’s covered in overlapping segments like fish scales. They have a reflective, iridescent finish that seems to change colors depending on how the light hits them.

It’s even cooler than the main cavern, but lacks the damp smell that makes it clear you’re underground. Each breath I take feels like inhaling a huge lungful of night air during the fall—crisp, sharp, and clean.

Along the walls, shelves run the whole length of the circular space. They begin at the floor and extend up the wall probably seven or eight feet. And remarkably, they’re not empty. In fact, they’re full of stoneware and bound paper and boxes and gleaming glass bottles containing various substances in a thousand different colors.

And despite the part of me that yearns to begin exploring what’s in those boxes and bottles, my attention keeps straying toward the middle of the room.

More specifically, to the circular dais in the middle of the room, large enough to fit ten or more people and carved from what looks to be a single slab of onyx.

Unlike the platform in the cave, this onyx dais has been polished until it gleams. Its surface is carved with symbols inlaid with gold that shimmer in the light.

Around the outside edge, four repeating symbols have been etched and inlaid with gold in the same way. They’re simple compared to the runes I’ve seen before, but somehow more beautiful for their simplicity.

Spirals, flames, waves, and mountains. Each one is carved so perfectly that there's no question what they represent.

The four elements.

At the sound of Branwen’s gasp, followed by a string of exclamations in a language I’ve never heard, I shoot to my feet. I whirl around, heart racing at the thought of what she might have stumbled into.

Thankfully, it’s clear she’s fine. She’s also apparently super excited, jumping on the balls of her feet and pointing at the walls above the shelves.

On shaky legs, I cross the room to see what’s going on. It’s not until I’m almost right next to her that I finally see it.

What in the…?

I take a few steps back, close my eyes, then open them. All I see is a blank, empty wall.

This time, I keep my eyes focused on that empty space and slowly inch closer. As I do, the space shifts and blurs. It morphs in and out of focus until I’m a half step behind Branwen, who’s watching me with a furrowed brow.

When her lips part, I raise my hand and decide it’s best just to show her.

Taking her by the arms, I turn and walk her backward. Then, I make her follow my exact steps.

Her wide eyes grow wider, and her mouth falls open in shock; I know she understands.

“But—but—you see them now, right?” she asks in a pleading tone that has me answering before she’s even finished speaking.

“Yes. Same as you do, I assume.”

“But then… when I step back⁠—”

I nod again. “Yes.”

“And then when I’m all the way back there⁠—”

“They’re gone, yes.”

She blinks. Blinks again. Then throws her hands up and exclaims, “I’m sorry but, what the actual fuck is going on with this place?”

I have no answer, so all I do is shrug and turn back to face the wall and let myself finally get a good look at the absolutely astonishing mural that only appears when you’re within a certain range.

Which, yes, is one of the weirdest things I’ve experienced—and that’s a really, really long list.