A Frequency of Truth, page 17
“Blair.” Vesper leaned forward, meeting the detective’s eyes. “You couldn’t have known what would happen. The Fold, the Hunters—none of that was your fault. I stumbled into the Fold, too. I know what it’s like.”
Something shifted in Blair’s face, a softening around her eyes. “Thanks. That’s…kind of you to say.”
Vesper felt it then—a strengthening of the connection between them. They were no longer just reluctant allies thrown together by circumstance. They were becoming friends who understood each other’s pain and who fought the same shadows.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmured. “I don’t think we would’ve got this far without you.”
The detective’s shoulders hunched slightly, and she looked down at her watch, avoiding eye contact. “Just doing my job,” Blair mumbled, her London accent thicker than usual. “Following leads, connecting dots. Basic police work, really.” She fiddled with her ring, spinning it around her finger.
The sight of Blair’s discomfort with praise struck Vesper as oddly endearing. She’d grown used to the detective’s sharp edges and direct manner.
“Right then,” Rafe pushed himself up from the moss-covered stone. “We should keep moving. The well won’t find itself, and these tunnels have a habit of shifting when you least expect it.”
His voice broke the moment, and Blair seemed to recover her usual composure, straightening her jacket as she stood. Vesper noticed how quickly the detective’s professional mask slipped back into place, though something softer lingered in her eyes.
As they pushed back into the tunnel, Rafe sniffed the air. “Forwards is better than backwards. I think we were on to something. The air smells more like dirt than rot this way.”
The tunnels narrowed as they pressed on, forcing them to walk single file. Vesper’s boots splashed through deepening puddles, and she steadied herself against the slick walls.
“The Darkmese must be right above us,” Rafe said from behind her. “Feel how the magic’s changing?”
She did. The residual power that had hummed through the tunnels was transforming into something wilder, more primal. It reminded her of standing on Blackwood Pier, watching the river’s surface shift between shadow and light.
Water trickled down the walls now, forming rivulets that carved paths through centuries of mineral deposits. The air grew heavy with moisture, and Vesper’s clothes clung uncomfortably to her skin. Each breath tasted of river-salt and old magic.
The passage curved sharply, and Vesper’s Resonant abilities flared in response to a sudden surge of power. The tunnel opened into a vast circular chamber, its ceiling lost in darkness above. But it was the structure at its centre that drew her attention and stole her breath.
The well rose from the chamber floor like a natural formation, its rough-hewn stones worn smooth by time and water. Ancient sigils covered every surface, their patterns more complex than any she’d seen before. They pulsed with a soft, steady light that cast rippling shadows across the chamber walls.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, though the word felt inadequate. “I was expecting a circle of old stones and a hole, not…this.”
The sigils seemed to respond to her voice, their glow intensifying slightly. The magic here was different from anything she’d encountered—pure and untamed, yet precisely controlled by the intricate spellwork etched into the stone.
Vesper approached slowly, drawn by the well’s presence. The ground beneath her feet had been carved with larger versions of the same sigils, forming concentric circles that radiated outward from the well’s base. Each step made the patterns flare brighter, acknowledging her presence, and revealing pools of deep water amongst the intricate designs.
“No wonder people don’t like coming here,” Blair whispered. “It gives me the creeps.”
“Me, too,” Rafe added. “Careful, Vesper. I don’t think we’re alone down here.”
Vesper’s breath caught as the water’s surface began to ripple, her magic screaming warnings through every nerve.
The water’s surface broke, pale fingers breaching first—long, pale digits that curled over the stone edges of the pools. Vesper’s heart pounded as more hands emerged, their skin grey and mottled like week-old corpses. The creatures pulled themselves up with unnatural grace, water cascading from bodies that seemed wrong in ways her mind struggled to process.
The entities that emerged bore no resemblance to the nymphs they’d encountered earlier. These creatures dragged themselves from the depths like drowned corpses returning to life, water cascading from their skeletal forms.
Long black hair clung to papery white skin, and their movements were wrong—jerky and predatory. Their luminous blue eyes fixed on Vesper with an ancient hunger that made her instinctively step back.
“Don’t move,” Rafe whispered, his hand finding hers in the gloom. “Any sudden movements might provoke them.”
Blair’s watch pulsed rapidly at her wrist, its silver face casting strange shadows across the chamber. The creatures moved with liquid grace, water still streaming from their bodies as they edged closer, and more emerged with each passing second, rising from pools Vesper hadn’t even noticed.
Her abilities picked up waves of magic radiating from the creatures—raw and primal, untamed by centuries of existence. It felt nothing like the gentle power of the nymphs. This magic tasted of depths where light had never reached, of currents strong enough to drag hulking ships into the abyss.
One of the creatures tilted her head at an impossible angle, regarding Vesper with piercing blue eyes. Water dripped constantly from her hair, creating a growing pool at her feet. When she opened her mouth, Vesper glimpsed rows of needle-sharp teeth, and her voice emerged like stones grinding together beneath dark water.
The other spirits moved in perfect synchronisation, their hair writhing like live things as they closed the circle around the three intruders. The sigils on the well flared brighter, responding to their presence, casting the creatures’ gaunt faces in harsh relief.
Vesper tried not to panic as they drew ever closer, their movements becoming more hungry with each step. The air grew thick with the scent of river-mud and decay, and she could feel the weight of centuries pressing down on them.
Vesper caught Blair’s movement from the corner of her eye—the detective’s ring hand rising as ethereal energy began to gather. Behind her, Rafe’s magic crackled through the air, the familiar warmth of his protective spells building.
The nature spirits in the first family’s garden had seemed to recognise something in her—perhaps these creatures could be reached the same way, if she could just find the right approach.
“Wait,” she said, placing a gentle hand on Blair’s arm. The detective’s muscles were tense beneath her touch. “Let me try something first.”
Vesper stepped forward, drawing on her Resonant abilities. The familiar surge of power flowed through her veins, and her skin began to shimmer with an opalescent light that cast rippling patterns across the chamber walls. Her hair lifted slightly in an unseen breeze as the magic built within her.
The water spirits paused in their advance, their haunting blue eyes fixed on her glowing form. Vesper met their gazes, refusing to look away from the ancient hunger that burned there. The magic of this place sang through her bones—wild and deep and dangerous, but also filled with purpose.
“We mean no harm,” she said, her voice carrying the ethereal resonance that came with using her powers. The words echoed off stone, making the sigils pulse in response. “We seek the Original Source to protect Nightreach from those who would destroy it.”
The spirits tilted their heads in perfect unison, water streaming endlessly from their spectral forms. Their needle-sharp teeth gleamed in the mixed light of the well’s sigils and Vesper’s own magical glow.
“Can you see what I am?” she asked. “I want to protect this world from shadow. They come for the Arcana…the Echo. The water will help me keep it safe.”
The creatures prowled closer, completely encircling her. Cold, wet fingers combed through her hair, sending shivers down her spine.
“Water spirits,” she whispered. “Please help us.”
The spirits circled her like sharks, their movements fluid and predatory. Their crooning voices filled the chamber with an otherworldly harmony that made her want to run in terror—a sound caught between a lullaby and a death knell.
She forced herself to remain still as their claws traced patterns across her skin, leaving trails of icy water that soaked through her clothes. Their touch felt wrong, like being caressed by something that had never known warmth or life.
“Please,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. “I need water from the Original Source. Just enough to fill a vial.”
The spirits paused their circling dance. Their luminous eyes narrowed as they drew back slightly, gathering in a tight cluster. They spoke to each other in voices that sounded like drowning—wet gasps and gurgling whispers that echoed off the chamber walls.
Then, without warning, cold hands seized her arms. Sharp claws dug into her flesh as the spirits yanked her forward. Vesper’s magic flickered and sputtered like a candle in a storm as she tried to break free, but their grip was impossibly strong.
“Vesper!” Blair’s shout echoed through the chamber.
She heard Rafe’s footsteps pounding against stone as they rushed toward her. But the spirits were faster, dragging her toward the well with inexorable strength. Their haunting laughter filled her ears as they pulled her over the edge.
The last thing Vesper saw was Blair and Rafe’s horrified faces as she was pushed into the gaping mouth of the well.
Chapter 12
The world tilted sideways as Vesper plummeted through empty space. Her stomach lurched, heart lodging in her throat as darkness swallowed her whole. The fall lasted both an eternity and no time at all before she crashed through the surface of the freezing water.
The cold hit like a physical blow, driving the air from her lungs. Water rushed into her nose and mouth as she tumbled end over end, losing all sense of direction. Her limbs thrashed wildly, panic threatening to overwhelm her as the crushing darkness pressed in from all sides.
Focus. She had to focus.
Vesper forced her body still, letting her natural buoyancy right her. Her Resonant magic stirred sluggishly, adjusting to the strange energies that filled the surrounding water. It felt ancient, potent—raw magical power in its purest form. The water spirits that had pushed her into the well were nowhere to be seen, leaving her alone in the vast darkness. At least they weren’t trying to drag her deeper.
She kicked her legs, propelling herself upward until her head broke the surface. Gasping for air, she wiped the water from her eyes and looked up. Far above, a small circle of light marked where she’d fallen through—the well opening seeming impossibly distant now.
“Rafe! Blair!” Her voice bounced off unseen walls, the echoes suggesting she was in some kind of massive underground chamber. The water lapped at her shoulders, surprisingly warm now that the initial shock had worn off.
“I’m okay!” she called again, making sure to project confidence she didn’t entirely feel. No need to worry them more than necessary. “I think I’ve found the Original Source!”
No reply came. She must be too far down for her voice to carry.
Luminescence crept in gradually as Vesper’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. A soft blue-green glow radiated from crystalline formations in the chamber walls, casting strange shadows across the water’s surface. Her teeth chattered, but the water felt oddly pleasant now, tingling against her skin with magical energy.
Movement caught her eye—sinuous shapes cutting through the surrounding depths. Her muscles tensed as the spirits emerged, their forms more defined in the water. Where before they’d appeared as violent, rushing torrents, now they moved with liquid grace. Their bodies seemed formed of living water, transparent yet somehow solid, with points of pale light where eyes should be.
They circled her in a slow spiral, and Vesper fought the urge to spin with them, keeping her strokes steady as she treaded water. Their presence felt different here—contemplative rather than hostile. The magical current that flowed through them resonated with something deep inside her, a connection she hadn’t felt in the tunnel above.
One spirit broke from the circle, drifting closer. Its form solidified slightly, revealing an elongated arm ending in webbed, clawed fingers. The creature extended its hand toward her, head tilting in an oddly human gesture of beckoning. The others continued their graceful orbit, waiting.
Vesper’s heart thundered in her chest. This wasn’t the attack she’d expected—it felt more like an invitation. The spirit’s glowing eyes held no malice, only an ancient intelligence that seemed to peer straight through her.
The creature’s hand remained extended, water droplets cascading off its crystalline claws in hypnotic patterns. Its intent was clear: follow.
Vesper let out a slow breath and reached for the spirit’s offered hand. Its touch felt like silk-smooth water given form, cool yet somehow solid enough to grip. The being pulled her forward with surprising gentleness, leading her through the water.
Her lungs burned as she tried to keep up, but before panic could set in, the water level began to drop. An island materialised from the darkness, its rough surface breaking through the water’s surface like the back of some great beast rising from the depths. The spirits guided her to its edge, where the water grew shallow enough to stand.
Vesper’s boots slipped on the slick stone as she found her footing. She pushed wet hair from her face, taking in her surroundings. The island’s surface was uneven, all jutting angles and smooth hollows worn by countless years of flowing water. Crystal formations dotted its surface, each one pulsing with that same blue-green luminescence that filled the chamber.
A gentle sound drew her attention—water trickling over stone. At the island’s centre, a spring bubbled up through a natural formation in the rock. The water caught the ambient light, seeming to glow from within as it flowed down the stone in delicate rivulets.
Her Resonant magic stirred, responding to the spring’s presence. The power here felt different from any she’d encountered before—pure, untamed, ancient beyond measure. It thrummed through her awareness like a perfectly pitched note, setting her magical senses humming in harmony.
Vesper picked her way carefully across the uneven ground, drawn to the spring. The spirits hovered at the water’s edge, their forms rippling as they watched her approach the spring. Each step closer made her magic pulse stronger until she could almost taste the power on her tongue—sharp and clean, like the first breath of winter air.
Her boots crunched against fragments of glass as she approached the spring. Scattered across the island’s rocky surface lay bottles and vessels of every description—simple glass vials nestled alongside ornate crystal decanters studded with gems. Countless bottles, jars, ampoules, and even perfume bottles. Some lay broken, their contents long since returned to the Source, while others remained pristine despite their age.
Her fingers traced the delicate engravings on a jewelled stopper, magical symbols etched into the metalwork that seemed to shift and dance. But she chose a plain glass bottle with a cork stopper. It felt right somehow, more fitting for water that predated human notions of wealth.
The spring’s song grew stronger as she knelt beside it, magic thrumming through her bones. Vesper held her breath, suddenly aware of the profound age of this place. How many others had knelt here before her, collecting water from the Original Source? How many had befallen the predatory gaze of the spirits who lingered in the water behind her?
She uncorked the bottle and dipped it into the flowing spring. The water took on an otherworldly quality as it filled the vial—neither fully transparent nor completely opaque, but something in between. Tiny motes of light danced within, like stars suspended in glass, each one pulsing in time with the magic that saturated the chamber.
Once it was full, she pressed the cork into the neck, making sure it was firmly in place.
Vesper clutched the bottle close to her chest, its contents casting dancing reflections across her sodden clothes. She turned toward the water spirits, their forms undulating at the edge of the island.
“How do I get back?” Her voice echoed off the chamber walls. “My friends will be worried.”
The spirits’ forms rippled and flowed as they exchanged what might have been glances. Their bodies shifted like liquid mercury, catching and reflecting the blue-green light. One spirit raised a translucent arm, pointing across the expanse of dark water to where a tunnel mouth gaped, half-submerged in the inky depths.
Vesper’s gaze travelled up to the distant circle of light where she’d fallen through. The well opening seemed impossibly far away now. “What about Rafe and Blair? They’re still up there—”
Before she could finish, the spirits raised their arms in unison. Their watery forms shimmered and distorted, like light through a waterfall. Within their liquid bodies, images began to form—the nymphs from above, their graceful forms leading Rafe and Blair through winding passages. The vision was crystal clear, showing her friends following the water beings through tunnels made of brick and stone that seemed to slope downward.
“I see,” she said. “Thank you.”
The image dissolved as the spirits lowered their arms. One gestured again toward the tunnel, its meaning clear: that was where she needed to go.
Vesper’s heart swelled with a mix of reverence and gratitude as she faced the water spirits. Their ethereal forms cast rippling shadows across the chamber’s crystalline walls.
“Thank you for showing me the Source.” The words felt like a poor exchange for what they’d given her. She thought of the Echo, of Selene, and all she’d been through so far. “I hope I can stop the shadows. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
