Chapter 56: Gathering Information

Lilith let Nidhogg’s intentions drift like snow off a pine. A Black Dragon wouldn’t itch for a fight just to scratch the urge. Would she? Probably not.

She shook it off. The Little White Dragon watched the Devourer pacing the cathedral’s heart, nerves tight as bowstrings, waiting for the hulking thing to leave.

The massive Undead drifted a slow circle through the nave. Floating like a zombie-wraith, it couldn’t touch the little ice shard Lilith had set on the floor.

The Little White Dragon kept to the shadows like a ground-skulking bug, eyes on the flyer above. The towering Undead roamed, then stood in the center, devout as dawn. Hands clasped to his chest, he lingered where a statue might once have stood.

“Is he praying?” Lilith whispered.

“Unlikely,” Sakunae Mashiro murmured, bent like willow. “The Undead now worship Eternal Life. This cathedral is a relic, a temple of the Grim Reaper. He wouldn’t pray here.”

Since Eternal Life bound Wraiths with Moonswallow Mist, the Undead were driven to worship the Reaper Fragment from the marrow. The cathedral fell into quiet ruin.

“But he looks like he’s praying,” the Little White Dragon protested. The Devourer bowed solemnly where the old idol had been, then strode off the way Lilith’s group had come.

“He’s gone.” The Little White Dragon waited till the silhouette sank from sight, then another breath longer. She dug a neat hole in the snow, sniffing with sharp senses. “No scent. He’s out.”

“Come out.” Once sure the Undead had left, Lilith waved. Nidhogg and Sakunae Mashiro gathered their scattered kit. The Little White Dragon whisked the packed snow from overhead with magic, and they crawled up from their hide.

“This way. Let’s keep moving.” Lilith scooped up her tiny ice crystal. She melted the eye she’d set down, and took the pack from Nidhogg’s hand. Sakunae Mashiro and Nidhogg stowed their camp gear. The fox pointed opposite the Devourer’s path, and they set off.

They left the corridor of carved stained glass behind. At the cathedral door, Mashiro found a small hidden hatch. Lilith opened it with a line of her own blood. Below lay a narrow chute, just passable.

Lilith’s build slipped through fine. For Sakunae Mashiro and Nidhogg, it was trouble. The Black Dragon and the fox bent double, squeezed in, and followed Lilith, palms on damp stone, walking blind in the dark.

“Who was this passage built for?” The Little White Dragon couldn’t help teasing Nidhogg. At barely over one-fifty in height, she fit. The taller women had to hunch and wedge through.

“Wraiths don’t have fixed bodies,” Sakunae Mashiro said, voice strained. “They’re mist. They drift through passages like this. Honestly, I’m surprised it’s this tall. I expected us to crawl.”

Nidhogg said nothing. Largest of them, the Black Dragon’s silence was all discomfort.

“Where are we headed?” the Little White Dragon asked from the lead.

“Eternal Life’s… library,” Sakunae Mashiro replied, slow and tight. “He treasures the chain of knowledge. He guards the Undead’s library. The final redoubt sits inside it.”

“Won’t there be Undead on watch?” Lilith worried. She didn’t want a skirmish. The Little White Dragon wanted to sprint in and end Eternal Life. The rest could wait.

“There will.” Sakunae Mashiro didn’t sugarcoat it. The fox popped the bubble of hope.

“The librarian is a Wraith. Her Death Magic is transcendent. Even the fiercest mage I’ve met couldn’t beat her,” Mashiro said. “Her senses are razor-sharp. We won’t slip past. We’ll have to break through and push inside to hassle Eternal Life.”

“If we’re lucky, we might catch her out,” Mashiro added. “She leaves one to two hours daily to see Eternal Life. During that window, she’s not guarding the Grand Library. We could go straight for him. But we’ll meet her in the end.”

“An enemy we can’t avoid,” Lilith murmured. Her jaw set. She was their core caster. This Wraith smelled like her fight. She prayed she had the answer.

“One step at a time.” Lilith sighed. She counted the spells she could shape, soothing her own pulse.

After about twenty minutes, they slipped out of the narrow runnel. First out, Lilith stretched, sky-blue breath steady. Even for the smallest, the last stretch pinched. The confining walk had her a bit off.

Behind her, Sakunae Mashiro and Nidhogg emerged looking worse by the step.

“Find a purple mirror. It’s a gate to Eternal Life’s hide,” Sakunae Mashiro said, rubbing her waist, pain flaring like a struck string.

“Got it.” Lilith nodded. The Little White Dragon summoned a ghost-blue butterfly. She tapped its tiny head with a slender finger. “You heard me?”

The butterfly wheeled once, already knowing her rhythm after so many journeys. It fluttered, feelers twitching, then flew toward where the mirror waited.

“What a handy trick,” Sakunae Mashiro said, surprised, watching the guide-butterfly dart.

“Just a life hack,” the Little White Dragon said. At heart, it was a seek-path spell, beloved by mages who get lost. She had dressed it up—turned the chant into a butterfly.

“Lilith’s wildly useful,” Nidhogg said. “Traveling with her is easy. Even without fighting, she’s a key to every door and a walking tracker. And her bite in battle is no joke.”

“Who are you calling a door key!” The Little White Dragon swatted Nidhogg with her tail, huffing. Big-hearted, she let it slide. She ignored the two tall ones stretching sore spines and led on, focused as a blade tip.

Look at these long-limbed giants, aching all over. Not Lilith. Even after squeezing through a tight tunnel, she was clear-eyed and fresh. Being small has its perks.

Being small isn’t a crime. Small is cute.

The butterfly did its duty and guided the Little White Dragon to the violet mirror. The Black Dragon and the fox paced to her side.

The Little White Dragon recalled her diligent guide and fed it a sip of her Star Energy as payment. It was spellwork at its core—like a little automaton—but magic’s wonder is this: a construct that moves long enough can spark a mind. After years at Lilith’s side, this butterfly felt like a trusted pet. She fed it carefully; next time, it would help with a glad heart.

“This is the mirror, right?” Lilith asked the fox.

“Yes.” Sakunae Mashiro nodded. “Pour a little mana in, and the gate opens. But the moment it does, Eternal Life will sense it. If we go in, they might hit us immediately.”

“If it’s just a hit, fine. But remember what stalks the Grand Mausoleum,” Nidhogg added.

“You mean they’ll prep spells to split us, then pick us off?” Lilith caught the Black Dragon’s drift. “What do we do?”

“I have a clumsy fix,” Nidhogg said. A bright-gold rune appeared in her hand. She split it, and gave halves to Lilith and Sakunae Mashiro.

“What is it?” Lilith asked.

“A small spell. With these, we can feel each other,” Nidhogg said. “If the Undead scatter us, we can find our way back together.”

“It’d be better if we didn’t split at all,” Lilith muttered, sticking the rune to her forehead.

“I don’t have that trick. Make do,” Nidhogg shrugged. “All right. In we go.”

Nidhogg poured mana into the mirror first, then strode through.

The fox waited a breath, then followed.

The Little White Dragon watched them vanish, drew a deep breath, and set her hand to the glass.

Violet light flickered. Lilith stepped inside.