The sound of grinding stone was not a single crack. It was a thousand small and dry snaps that echoed through the Great Hall like a forest fire in winter.
Julian tilted his head. He was tracking the movement by the vibration in the obsidian throne. The clicking in the rafters had shifted. It was now a heavy and rhythmic thud of stone talons against wood. The gargoyles were no longer ornaments. They were ancient hungers that had been woken by the intrusion of Elara's heat.
"They are moving," Julian rasped. He felt the cold clawing up his shins. His legs were once again solid pillars. "Kaleen. Status."
"The South-Watchers have detached," Kaleen said. His voice was distant. It was punctuated by the sharp whistle of his blade through the air. "The Vane Court has bypassed my command. They are not waiting for the wolves, Julian. They are coming for the girl themselves. Their signals are frantic. They want her secured at any cost."
"I am right here!" Elara shouted. Julian heard the metallic click of her knife against the stone steps. "And I am not a prize to be secured! Stop talking about me like I am a piece of equipment!"
"Then stop acting like a target," Julian growled.
A shadow swept over the dais. Julian felt the rush of cold air as a three-hundred-pound slab of granite dropped from the ceiling.
"Jump!" Elara's voice was a sharp command.
Julian lunged. He used the only leverage he had. His right arm was a thick slab of muscle and thawing skin. He shoved himself sideways. The throne did not move, but the gargoyle's talons raked across the obsidian armrest where he had been a second before. The sound was like a scream of metal on glass.
"The secret passage," Julian ordered. His sight was still a gray and swirling fog. "Behind the tapestry of the Fallen King. Elara. Lead me. My legs are dead weight."
"You want me to drag a statue?" Elara asked. She was panting. Her scent of Night-Blooming Cereus was sharp and metallic with the smell of her sweat.
"I want you to be my eyes," Julian hissed. "Touch my shoulder. Do not let go."
Elara did not hesitate. Her hand slammed onto his shoulder. The contact was a violent jolt. Julian's mercury eyes flared. A surge of her resonance flooded his nervous system. It was a painful and brilliant warmth. The marble on his thighs cracked. The stone on his shins shattered into white dust. He stood. His knees groaned like the hull of a sinking ship.
"This way!" Elara pulled him.
They moved across the hall. It was a desperate and uneven dance. Julian was a mountain of muscle and stone. Elara was a flickering flame. Behind them, the gargoyles landed. Their heavy stone bodies hit the floor with bone-shaking thuds.
"Kaleen! Hold the door!" Julian barked.
"Go, My Lord!" Kaleen's voice rose above the roar of grinding granite.
Elara shoved aside a heavy and dust-choked tapestry. She found the iron handle. She pulled with everything she had. The hidden door groaned. It revealed a narrow and spiraling staircase that smelled of damp parchment and old blood.
Julian stumbled into the darkness. He felt the weight of his own calcifying heart. Behind him, he heard the frantic skidding of boots. A heavy impact shook the wall. Then a body slammed into the small landing just as the door began to swing shut.
"Wait!" Elara cried out.
Kaleen rolled through the narrow gap. He was covered in gray stone dust and dark wolf ichor. His charcoal jacket was shredded at the shoulder. He kicked the door shut. He threw the heavy iron bolt just as a massive weight slammed against the other side. The stone walls trembled.
"I am here," Kaleen wheezed. He stood up and straightened his ruined tie. He was still clutching his silver-topped cane. "The South-Watchers are currently trying to claw through three feet of reinforced masonry. It will hold them. For a time."
They descended into the bowels of Oakhaven. The air grew thick and stagnant. It was the smell of the Archives. Julian could feel the weight of the house above them. The staircase was narrow. His broad and stone-encrusted shoulders scraped against the walls.
"Stop," Julian commanded when they hit the bottom.
"We cannot stop! Those things are right behind us!" Elara's voice was high with adrenaline.
"Silence," Julian snapped. He reached out with his right hand. He found the cold and smooth surface of a shelf. "We are in the Archives of Bone. The gargoyles cannot enter here. The wards are keyed to the blood of the Vane line. They will not breach this threshold."
Elara let go of his shoulder. The sudden loss of her heat felt like a physical blow. Julian let out a sharp hiss of pain. The gray fog over his vision intensified. He slumped against a shelf of ancient tomes.
"You are bleeding," Elara said. Her voice was softer now. It was a mixture of fear and something sharper.
"I am breaking," Julian corrected. He touched his chest. The stone skin was weeping a dark and thick fluid. It was not quite blood. It was a mineral slurry. "Every time you touch me, you shatter a century of my survival. You are not a cure, Elara Vance. You are a demolition."
Kaleen stepped forward. He clicked a small light on his cane. The beam cut through the shadows of the vault. It illuminated rows of scrolls and leather-bound books that looked as though they had not been touched in a thousand years.
"My Lord, we have a more pressing issue than your aesthetic decomposition," Kaleen said. He gestured to Elara. "The tracker in her jacket is still broadcasting. I can hear the frequency reflecting off the stone. It is a beacon for the Fenris Pack."
"Give me the jacket," Julian ordered.
"What? No! It is freezing down here," Elara protested.
"The tracker," Julian growled. He stepped toward her. He was guided by the scent of the cereus. "It is broadcasting our location. Every wolf and predator within a hundred miles is heading for Oakhaven". If you do not give me that jacket, I will peel it off you myself."
Elara hesitated. Julian could hear her heart racing. It was a wild and trapped bird. Then he heard the sound of a zipper. The jacket hit the floor with a heavy thud.
"There," she said. "Now what?"
Julian reached down. He found the jacket. He did not use his hands to destroy it. He focused on the stone in his own blood. He pressed the device against his marble forearm. The Stonework Curse did not just turn things to stone. It drained the life and the energy out of everything it touched.
The tracker let out a final and pathetic squeal. Then it went dead.
"We are invisible for now," Julian said. He turned his sightless face toward her.
"Mina?" Elara whispered. She was tapping her jaw. Julian heard the faint vibration of her comms. "Are you there? I am in a cellar. I need to know why everyone is losing their minds. Julian's court is trying to kill him just to get to me. Why?"
Julian listened to the silence. He felt a deep and cold curiosity blooming in his mind. He turned his head toward his castellan.
"Kaleen," Julian said. "Why is my court in a panic? They know the girl is an anchor. They should be pleased that their sovereign is no longer a statue."
Kaleen walked to a nearby shelf. He pulled down a heavy and dusty volume. He blew a cloud of gray soot from the cover.
"They are not pleased, My Lord," Kaleen said. He looked at Elara with a strange and clinical intensity. "They are terrified. They did not just see a girl standing on the dais. They saw the resonance. The way the stone reacted to her scent. It was not a gentle thawing. It was a violent rejection."
"Explain," Julian commanded.
"The Vane Court has spent a century preparing for your transition into a permanent monument," Kaleen said. His voice was as sharp as his blade. "They wanted a symbol they could control. A stone king. But Miss Vance... she represents a power that can undo the very foundations of Oakhaven. They don't want her because she is a slave. They want her because they suspect she is something else entirely."
Julian reached out. His fingers brushed the spine of a book. He did not know the truth yet. He did not know the word Seeker. But he knew the way his blood sang when she was near.
"We stay here," Julian said. His voice was a low and dangerous rumble.
"We do not leave this vault until I know exactly what Silas Vance has brought into my house. Kaleen. Start the research. I want the lineage of the Vance line. I want to know why she makes the stone weep."
Elara stood in the center of the dark room. She looked small. She looked tired. But the golden light in her skin was still humming.
"I just want to know why my father hated me enough to do this," she whispered.
Julian did not offer her comfort. He did not have any to give. He simply sat on a crate of old scrolls and waited for the dark to yield its secrets.