Prophecy of Ironbridge: Book 2 in Tansy's Magical Midlife Adventures (The Witches of Ironbridge) by Michelle Monroe

Prophecy of Ironbridge: Book 2 in Tansy's Magical Midlife Adventures (The Witches of Ironbridge) by Michelle Monroe

Author:Michelle Monroe [Monroe, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-16T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter

Sixteen

THE CRUMBLING SPIRE

The air within the spire hit me like a wall—stale, cold, and thick with the dust of ages. It smelled faintly of mildew and something else ancient and vaguely unsettling. Cora, of course, didn’t even flinch.

"Come on, you two," she said, already stepping into the passage. "The prophecy awaits.” Her voice echoed strangely in the confined space, bouncing off the stone walls.

Thomas gestured for me to go ahead of him. "After you, Tansy," he said, a reassuring smile on his face.

I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the prickling sensation on the back of my neck. The passage was narrow and winding, the walls rough-hewn stone that looked like it hadn’t been touched in centuries. The darkness pressed in around us, broken only by the flickering light of Cora's witchlight. Each footstep echoed on the uneven stone floor, the sound bouncing off the walls and creating a disorienting symphony of echoes.

“How far down do you think this staircase goes?” I asked, my voice hushed in the stillness. We’d been descending for what felt like ages, each step taking us deeper into the bowels of the Crumbling Spire. I was already not looking forward to the trek back up to ground level.

"Let’s just say,” Cora said, her voice echoing ahead of us, “that whoever hid this prophecy fragment really didn’t want it found.”

"You think someone hid it on purpose?" Thomas asked. "Like, maybe to protect it?"

"Or to keep it out of the wrong hands," Cora added. "Knowing prophecies, it's probably both."

She was right, of course.

“I’m pretty sure my great grandmother hid it.”

Prophecies were double-edged swords, full of cryptic pronouncements and unintended consequences. I shivered, and it wasn't just from the cold although the air was growing noticeably colder as we descended, the silence broken only by the rhythmic thud of our footsteps and the occasional drip of water echoing in the darkness.

“Well, that answers that,” Thomas said.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" I asked, my hand trailing along the rough stone wall. It was cold and damp against my fingertips.

"Don't worry," Thomas said, his hand brushing against mine in the darkness. "Cora knows where she's going."

I shot him a grateful glance. Even after all these weeks of working together, his unwavering faith in Cora—and in me—still surprised me. It was a welcome change from the constant suspicion and doubt I’d grown accustomed to in my old life.

"Of course I know where I'm going," Cora said, her voice taking on a playful lilt. "I'm a raven, remember? We have an excellent sense of direction. Also, it helps that this is literally the only way to go."

She was right. Once the door to the spire had opened we’d been on this path. And there hadn’t been a single offshoot, just this endless circular passage down.

After what felt like hours but was likely closer to twenty minutes, the passage opened into a small, circular chamber. A collective gasp escaped our lips. Unlike the dark, oppressive corridors we’d just navigated, this chamber was bathed in a soft, ethereal glow.



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