Chapter 22: Descent into the Gray
The landing party consisted of Kai, Elena, Smith, and Blood Beard. They took a small longboat toward the jagged shore, the waves tossing the tiny craft like a cork. Smith was unusually quiet, his eyes scanning the cliffs for any sign of movement, while Blood Beard grumbled about the dampness in his joints.
As they hit the sand, Elena stepped out, the cold water swirling around her boots. The island felt heavy. There was a pressure in the air, a sense of being watched by a thousand unseen eyes.
"This way," Kai said, gesturing toward a narrow crevice in the rock face that seemed to lead into the heart of the island.
They hiked in silence, the only sound the crunch of their boots on shale. The path wound upward, narrowing until they were walking single file. Elena was sandwiched between Kai and Smith, the proximity of the men providing a strange sort of comfort against the oppressive atmosphere of the island.
They reached a massive stone door, carved directly into the mountainside. It was covered in moss and ancient barnacles, yet the carvings beneath were unmistakable: the Locke family crest, a stylized kraken entwining a crown.
"There it is," Blood Beard whispered, his voice full of awe. "The vault of the King."
Kai turned to Elena, his expression unreadable. He stepped aside, gesturing toward a circular indentation in the center of the door, exactly the size of a human palm.
"It’s your turn, Elena," he said.
Elena approached the stone, her hand shaking. She looked at the carvings, then at the three men watching her with bated breath. This was the end of the scavenger and the beginning of whatever came next. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pressed her palm against the ancient, cold stone.
For a small moment, nothing happened. Then, the ground began to tremble.