The Glass Gargoyle (The Lost Ancients Book 1) by Marie Andreas Page A

able to get around the spelled fence.
    Before she could respond, a rumbling tremor shook the ground. More specifically it shook the box. I slid to the side and tried to hang on but the walls didn’t have enough texture. The box started sliding and my hopes improved, maybe it would tip over completely, and I could get out on my own.
    Whichever deity I’d pissed off to cause the last few weeks was still playing rough apparently. The box slid, while staying mostly upright, and felt like it was slithering down a steep slope. I tried pushing my weight to the downward side, still hoping I could tumble out. Unfortunately, whatever the box was careening through wasn’t hard ground and suddenly the bottom dropped out from under me. Leaf took off like an arrow flying free of the dropping box. I had no such option.
    The roar of the passage through the tree limbs, over roots, through shrubs was as impressive as it was terrifying. The weight of the box I was trapped in must be substantial to carve through everything so easily. Even with the speed it had picked up, the landing wasn’t as hard as my initial crashing into the box. I even stayed conscious this time. But, I was now in a dark pit. And the new sound of rushing water was possibly one of the last sounds I wanted to hear. I had been terrified of water as long as I could remember, even before the deaths of my parents in a boating accident. Icy rapids were speculated to run under the full length of the ruins, at least the areas mapped out so far. The origins of these frigid streams were lost in time, but they appeared to have been created, not natural. Most were deep beneath the ground and had few exit points. I would be fascinated about finding one if my heart wasn’t busy trying to crawl out of my chest.
    And my box had managed to land right in the middle of one.
    A sharp, freezing attack on my rear told me my box wasn’t waterproof and had gathered at least one hole on its recent adventures.
    “Leaf!” I screamed, my fears of drowning making me sound like a frightened child.
    I couldn’t see her, but let out my breath when a small chittering mass landed on my shoulder.
    “Leaf, you have got to go get help now, I don’t care who.” I felt along the bottom of the box where the water was coming in. It wasn’t coming in fast which was good and bad. Good that I would probably freeze to death before I drowned, bad because it meant there probably wasn’t a hole big enough for me to widen to escape though.
    Leaf patted my head gently. “Will find someone, worry no.” With a final soothing rub to my head, she flew off. When she didn’t return in a few moments, I let out a sigh of relief. She should be able to get out of whatever cavern we were in.
    I stomped my feet around, trying to keep some feeling in them. The water was now covering the top of my feet. While my boots were spelled waterproof for digging, they weren’t going to hold out against that cold for long. Movement brought some feeling back so I began walking laps around my box. I studiously ignored the water as it sloshed around because of my movements and the still subtle shifting the box seemed to be making.
    Denial of a potential watery death in full force, I wondered if it was the elves or the Ancients that might have made this thing. And why. The race most of us called the elves disappeared probably a thousand years ago, the ancients, if they even ever really existed, closer to three-thousand. There were huge debates about it, but I only cared about what they left behind, who they were, what lives they led, not how long ago they’d vanished.
    The water was now lapping my ankles, but I continued ignoring it.
    I rubbed the hammered bronze wall as I passed. The condition was amazing. It was filthy, but the bronze underneath was immaculate. Or whatever they’d used that looked like bronze. That was a debate as well. The small pieces found hadn’t responded properly to bronze testing.
    The water was now