Princess Of The Skulls - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

The castle's head librarian had always struck me as more scholar than warrior, but Master Dorian's intelligence suggested that Matthias Greywind possessed both extensive knowledge of ancient magics and personal reasons to oppose the cult's activities. Finding him required a visit to the deep archives, where few people ventured and conversations could be held without fear of eavesdropping.
I found him exactly where expected—surrounded by towers of ancient texts, his grey hair wild from running his hands through it, his clothes bearing the dust of centuries-old knowledge. But when he looked up at my approach, his eyes held the sharp intelligence of someone who understood exactly how dangerous the information he guarded could be.
"Your Highness," he said, rising with a bow that was respectful but not subservient. "I wondered when you might come seeking the books your mother once studied."
The statement hit me like a physical blow. In all my conversations with Master Dorian and Prince Aldric,
No one had mentioned that my mother had conducted research in the deep archives.
"My mother studied here?"
"Extensively, in the months before her death. She was researching magical bindings, soul magic, and the historical precedents for ritual workings involving multiple participants." He gestured to a section of shelves that looked different from the others—newer, more carefully organized. "She was particularly interested in countering magic that had already been completed."
"Countering completed magic," I repeated slowly. "That's what we're attempting to do."
"Yes, I know. Prince Aldric visited me yesterday evening to discuss the theoretical requirements for your planned ritual." Matthias closed the book he'd been reading and gave me his full attention. "He seemed surprised to learn that someone had already conducted much of the necessary research."
The revelation that my mother had been working toward the same solution we were pursuing brought both comfort and increased urgency. If she'd been researching counter-rituals before her death, it suggested she'd known about the cult's plans far earlier than we'd assumed.
"What did she discover?"
"That the ritual you're planning is possible, but requires very specific conditions to succeed. Seven participants, all magically capable, all completely committed to the work. Any wavering, any divided loyalty, any hesitation—and the energies involved will destroy everyone within miles of the ritual site."
"Prince Aldric mentioned the participant requirements. What other conditions did she identify?"
Matthias moved to the specially organized section, retrieving a leather-bound journal that looked far newer than the surrounding ancient texts.
"She documented everything—the magical theory, the historical precedents, the risks and potential consequences. But Your Highness, she also documented something else."
He opened the journal to a page covered with my mother's careful handwriting, diagrams of magical circles, and what appeared to be a list of names.
"She identified the seven people who would be best suited to attempt the ritual. Not just magically capable, but emotionally and psychologically prepared for the kind of sacrifice required."
I took the journal with hands that trembled slightly, scanning the list of names. My own was there, along with Prince Aldric's. Master Dorian. Lady Lydia. And three others I hadn't expected.
"You're on the list," I said, looking up at Matthias.
"I am. As are Captain Marcus of the castle guard and Elena, the kitchen master. Your mother believed we possessed the right combination of magical ability, personal motivation, and emotional stability to survive the working world."
"Personal motivation?"
"Each person she identified has lost someone to the cult's activities. My sister disappeared twenty years ago while investigating reports of magical experimentation. Captain Marcus's entire family was killed during what was officially reported as a random bandit attack, but which bore the hallmarks of ritual sacrifice. Elena's daughter was taken as a 'tithe' to ensure the kitchen staff's cooperation with certain dietary modifications. During important ceremonies."
The revelation that the cult's influence extended so deeply into the castle's daily operations was both shocking and oddly relieving. If these people already had personal reasons to oppose our enemies, recruitment might be easier than we'd anticipated.
"And they're all willing to participate?"
"They're all aware that something is being planned, and they've all expressed willingness to learn more.
But Your Highness, we need to move quickly. There are signs that the cult suspects we're organizing resistance."
"What kind of signs?"
"Increased surveillance of the people on your mother's list. Questions about our daily routines, our magical capabilities, and our emotional attachments. And more concerning—attempts to separate us from each other through reassignments, schedule changes, and manufactured emergencies."
The systematic approach suggested the cult was far more organized and well-informed than we'd hoped.
If they were already moving to counter our recruitment efforts, our window of opportunity was closing rapidly.
"How much time do we have?"
"Hours, not days. I believe they're planning to move against us tonight, before we can complete our preparations."
The timeline was even shorter than our worst-case estimates. The wedding was still two days away, but if the cult eliminated the ritual participants before we could complete the working, the ceremony would proceed exactly as they'd planned.
"Then we need to gather everyone immediately. Can you contact Captain Marcus and Elena without arousing suspicion?"
"I can try, but we need to assume our communications are being monitored. Any message that seems unusual or urgent will likely be intercepted."
"What about a general emergency drill? Something that would require all senior staff to report to a central location?"
"That might work, but it would also alert anyone watching that we're coordinating our activities." Matthias closed the journal and handed it to me. "Your Highness, there's something else you need to know."
"What?"
"Your mother didn't just research the counter-ritual. She also identified the specific magical working the cult is planning to complete using your power."
I felt my blood turn cold. "What are they planning?"
"Not just binding the royal bloodlines to their service. They're planning to use the accumulated soul energy to open a permanent gateway between the world of the living and the realm of the dead. With that gateway, they could command armies of spirits, drain life energy from entire populations, and remake the world according to their vision."
The scope of their ambitions was far worse than anything we'd imagined. We weren't just fighting to prevent magical slavery—we were fighting to prevent the fundamental transformation of reality itself.
"The ritual we're planning," I said slowly. "Will it be enough to stop something of that magnitude?"
"If it succeeds, yes. The counter-working would not only free the bound souls—it would permanently sever the connections between the living and dead that the cult has been exploiting."
"And if it fails?"
"Then they complete their grand working, and everything we know ceases to exist."
The weight of absolute responsibility settled over me like a physical burden. Seven people, one ritual, and the fate of the world hanging in the balance.
"Matthias, I need you to swear the blood oath. Tonight, before they can move against us."
"I'm prepared to do so. But Your Highness—are you prepared for what comes after? Even if the ritual succeeds, the political and magical consequences will reshape both our kingdoms. The world that emerges from this conflict won't be the same one we've known."
"I know. But it will still be a world where people have free will and souls that belong to themselves. That has to be enough."
He nodded, understanding passing between us without need for further words. "Then let's gather the others. Time is running short, and we have work to do."
As we prepared to leave the archives, I reflected on how much had changed in just the past few hours.
We'd gone from hoping to recruit allies to discovering that the resistance had been planned years in advance by someone who'd understood the threat better than any of us.
My mother had died before she could complete her preparations, but she'd left us the tools we needed to finish what she'd started. Whether we were strong enough or brave enough to use those tools remained to be seen.
But for the first time since this all began, I felt like we had a real chance of winning.