7: Hers To Burn

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Delilah and Dante sprinted through the dark tunnels that had frighteningly bowed walls and low ceilings. Delilah felt blind, and only instinct kept her from smacking into a wall as she ran behind Dante. She surged forwards, latching onto the back of his cloak and swinging him with all her might into the wall face-first. Breath sawed in her lungs as she pushed ahead.

The Fire Opal would be hers.

Dante recovered swiftly and was hot on her feels as she pelted around corners, catching the walls with her hands. He grabbed her from behind and threw her down just as the tunnel rounded a corner to reveal a dead end. Delilah hit dusty floor and rolled, gasping as she tried to push herself up and her hands touched... Something hard, smooth and brittle. Her boots crunched them. Whatever they were, they littered the floor.

She slowly rose to her feet, realising how dark it was with a shiver.

Dante, a dim shape in the blackness, struck a match he'd taken from his pocket. And Delilah clapped a hand over her mouth. Bones. Skeletons. The walls, the ceilings, even the floor was made of bones, the remains of thousands of dead people. Dead Pelenans.

"Catacombs," Dante said.

Delilah swallowed. "Our ancestors made these. We were told they caved in decades ago."

"Of course you were," Dante said dryly. "Well, this is the end. The Opal is here somewhere."

Sudden terror reached an invisible hand around Delilah's throat. "Do you think it's protected? A charm, a curse, a... haunting?" This is too easy.

Dante dropped the match before it could burn his fingers – Delilah flinched, wondering if the fire would cause something to happen – and lit another. "Well, Princess, you beat me to it. You get to touch the Opal first, and I get to watch the ghosties feast on your flesh."

Delilah glared, but mustered her courage and began sweeping the floor with her feet. Bones clicked and clacked. Dante watched impassively as she scanned the walls and floor for any tell-tale sign.

Then she found it. A tiny circular rune carved into the forehead of a skull set into the wall at head-height. Breathing hard, she faced it, staring into empty eye sockets as she grasped the bone firmly in both hands and pulled.

The skull came away with a crack and shattered into shards of bone. She dropped them and plunged her arm into the hole in the wall before she could lose her nerve – or before Dante could beat her to it.

She reached in, fingers scraping, until she'd fit her entire arm in up to the shoulder. She tensed, sweat trickling down her back, expecting to feel a monster ripping her arm clean off with sharp teeth... But instead her hand brushed what felt like a small velvet pouch. With a gasp, she grabbed it and pulled.

Her arm scratched sharp bone pieces as she yanked it out of the wall. It was black velvet, shimmering faintly as if... As if lit from within.

The object was heavy. Delilah felt Dante focus on it, felt the full extent of his vicious hunger fix on the little sack swinging from her bleeding hand.

Dante started to speak when a crack resounded through the air. Then another sound, like the rumble of an avalanche. The walls shuddered. Bone cracked around them, and Delilah's heart froze when dust trickled down onto their heads.

"Run!" Dante bellowed, grabbing her arm.

They sprinted back into the impenetrable pitch-black tunnels as skeletons crashed to the floor behind them. The walls started to cave in, pushing forward as if longing to crush them forever in a deadly embrace. Delilah and Dante fought their way back. His cruelly strong grip on her arm was pulling her along, and he held his other arm out as if he could push the walls back with one bare hand.

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