The Black Rose by James Bartholomeusz

palm, sending flickering orange light to illuminate the rough-hewn walls. They moved downwards with no indication of when the passage would end until, finally, a glimmer became visible in front of them. They continued in single file until they reached another high doorway, and it opened out.
    Lucy wasn’t sure what she was seeing. She initially thought they were outside again, but that wasn’t possible; they had been moving downwards all the time. It took her several seconds to realize what she saw was not a starlit sky but a colossal underground chamber stretching the length of several football pitches. What she had taken for stars were actually floating lights, set in alcoves around the entire circular wall and up countless levels. The floor of the Cave seemed to be a massive lake, forming an exact mirror reflection of the lights above except for seven stone walkways from the wall to a small island in the center. She had visited cathedrals with her parents and never really understood them, but this was something else. For the first time, she began to understand why some people were religious.
    â€œWhat are the lights?” she whispered to Hakim as they proceeded.
    â€œI’m not exactly sure. This is only a guess, but I think there’s one for every deceased goblin. I think it symbolizes them being led safely to the afterlife.”
    The priest had stopped on the edge of the island. Hakim passed him, followed by Lucy. The only thing on the island was a simple stone plinth, carved with star symbols. The other two joined them, and they huddled around to inspect it. The top was completely bare, save for a small hole in the center—a hole that would have exactly fitted a Shard of the Risa Star.
    â€œLike rats to rancid butter,” an unfamiliar voice echoed behind them.
    They spun around.
    A black-cloaked figure was standing on the walkway they had just come down, blocking their way back. But their attention was instantly distracted as the priest’s form contorted and ripped out of the furs, leaving a snarling winged demon in its place.
    â€œOne point to me,” crowed a female voice behind them.
    The first figure tossed a coin over the island to a black-cloaked woman on the other side, and she caught it. “Paethon thought a doppelgänger could never fool you
again,
but I disagreed.”
    They both cackled.
    â€œPhaedra and Paethon, I take it?” Vince asked coldly.
    â€œCorrect,” they answered, and their voices slid together as one.
    â€œNow,” Paethon continued, “perhaps you can assist us. Where is the Shard?”
    The Apollonians exchanged uncomprehending looks.
    â€œWe don’t have the Shard,” Hakim replied. “Don’t you?”
    Phaedra gave a theatrical sigh of contempt. “Now, is playing this game really worth our time? The plinth was empty when we arrived. We all know one of your meddlesome crew has it. If you’re not going to give it up, then I’m afraid force is the only option.”
    Lucy could tell Adâ, Hakim, and Vince were also silently considering their options. There were only two Cultists, both surely powerful alchemists, but then so were Adâ and Hakim. They could probably take them and the demon down and run for the exit…
    This plan was crushed by the materialization of five more Cultists in streams of black smoke, blocking all of the walkways.
    â€œKeep close,” Hakim muttered.
    They had formed an outward-facing ring around the plinth, each of them eyeing the Cultists nearest them. Lucy, Adâ, and Vince instinctively moved their hands to the hilts of their swords, and Hakim reached for his wooden staff. Lucy was now considering the lake. They might be able to make a break for it and swim to the other side. If they distracted Paethon and jumped, they might just make it…
    Lucy leapt back, alarmed, as waves began to roll over the surface of the water. They were gathering momentum, rising higher