The Door Under the Garden
Chapter 3 · 1 min read · Elena Vale
The palace garden closed at dusk, but Mira had once catalogued its irrigation records. She knew the gardeners preferred the east gate in winter and that the old greenhouse had a broken latch. Knowledge gathered for dull reasons, she was discovering, could become very useful when the world was coming apart.
Rowan waited beside the greenhouse with two lanterns and a look of unconvincing calm. “There are guards,” he warned. “Then you should have told them we were coming,” Mira said, taking the smaller lantern.
They crossed the damp gravel without speaking. In the center of the garden stood a dry fountain carved with seven stars. Beneath the basin, concealed by ivy and years of neglect, Mira found a narrow iron ring set into the stone.
When she touched it, the atlas beneath her coat turned hot. The fountain shifted aside with a groan. Cold air rose from the darkness below, carrying the scent of rain on ancient books.
“This is where the first star was hidden,” Rowan said. His voice barely carried above the wind. Mira looked at him, then down at the stone steps. The city behind them seemed suddenly very far away.
She raised her lantern and began to descend.