Page 85 of Crown of Ashes and Awe

After he’d prepared a bag, kissed me, and hurried out the door, I’d gone back to bed, hoping to sleep away the first day without him. But arguing with Demius was a dream I wanted out of.

Nothing bad can happen in a day,I’d whined. I just hoped that naïve sentiment could prove true for the next two.

* * *

When I went lookingfor Lennon and Griffon, I was told by a steward that they were spending the day with Griffon’s father. I was on my own.

To keep from feeling like a prisoner, I made a point to stay away from my room. Instead of the yellow, I donned something dark blue with nut-brown panels that made me feel less visible. At a glance, I could be just one of the many servants shuffling up and down the corridors.

A heavy rain meant any exploring I did would have to be indoors, but that didn’t bother me. At least the storm kept the empty spaces from being crypt-like in their silence. Back home, rain meant flashwater. It meant people and creatures would drown. But here, it meant a drink for the garden flowers and shrubbery. It meant clean water for thousands who didn’t have to rely on luck, a raincatcher, and a steady drip into a bathing pool.

I started in our little corner of the palace and worked my way back and forth as I made a mental map of the place. Since no one stopped me, I went wherever I pleased except for the royal residence and chatted with whomever was willing. I even did a little eavesdropping and learned that the king was not feeling well, that no one had been allowed into his personal chambers for days. And they hoped he recovered in time for the celebration—they called any announcement by Moire a celebration, though she rarely shared news worth celebrating.

And no one knew who the tall, gray-haired man was who now shared her chambers, and whose son and daughter in law arrived later, with their friends.

Apparently, only a few guards and dragon riders—and the people in The Soundless arena—were aware the gray-haired man was her husband, Ghloir. I might have been too dredged to remember clearly, but I thought I heard Griffon confess that his father was the passenger they’d brought from Earth. And the first chance I got, I was going to ask to hear the whole story.

Perhaps her husband’s identity was the announcement she intended to make, but that wouldn’t answer my questions. That wouldn’t explain how we might thwart the prophecy.

But since Moire wouldn’t grant me an audience, I couldn’t press her for details. My only option, while I waited for Tearloch to return, was to stalk the palace halls and hope for more keys to the mystery.

* * *

On the second day,I slept late, and by the time I went looking for Lennon and Griffon, they’d already gone. The rain had cleared, but it was still too chilly for exploring outside. That was when I learned there was a lower level to many sections of the palace, including the royal residence. Only I didn’t have to be admitted through those tall silver doors to find access.

It was by accident, really, when I opened a door just past the gallery of haughty kings and queens. They were still suggesting I had no right to be there, but I ignored them and found a perfectly unadorned set of steps leading down. I closed the door behind me before pulling out my glow stone, knowing that bossy messenger would throw a fit if he found me there.

The dips were worn into the stones as if soft feet had taken the same path thousands of times before me, showing where to step. Even the stone ledge that acted as a railing was smoothed by wear and felt like a soft wave of water undulating beneath my hand.

At the bottom, a hallway opened before me. Fifty feet away, a plethora of glow stones made mine unnecessary, so I stowed it back in my pocket. It was only then that I realized my chest was glowing beneath my dark gown. I ducked back into the stairwell, confused.

I blinked to clear my vision, wondering if I’d imagined it. I hadn’t. Then I wondered if I were about to combust. Was the prophecy demanding its price? Was Tearloch wrong and now we’d never have that last day together? Or was the power I’d taken from the dragon trying to free itself?

My skin was only slightly warm, however. I felt no pain, and I was reasonably sure the light did not emanate from my heart, which pounded loudly against my left ribs.

I finally pinched the fabric and pulled it away from my body. My cleavage was lit from below…by Demius’ dragon key. It was so much a part of me now, I often forgot it was there.

The center, which contained a warm yellow stone, now glowed brightly. And the only time I’d ever seen it light up was when Demius carried it to the enchanted library door, to unlock it.

In my head, I could hear him mumbling the spell, and now, out of habit, I repeated it in a whisper with my eyes closed to aid the memory. I jumped at the sound of stone grinding against stone and opened my eyes. The side wall of the stairwell had opened outward, revealing more steps that curled away into darkness.

I held perfectly still and breathed as silently as I could. Any second, guards and servants would come running to identify the noise. If I hid in the dark and someone closed the portal, how would I get out?

I hesitated, listening for footsteps, afraid of what I might do if I heard them…

But no one came.

With nothing else at hand, I took off my meager slipper and jammed it into the corner to prevent the wall from closing completely. It probably wouldn’t work, but it gave me the courage to take my glowing key out of my dress and start down the new stairwell. Again, there was a ledge in the wall to hang onto, and with my free hand, I held out the glow stone in my pocket. The key continued to radiate beneath my clothes.

The air itself felt soft against my skin, as if it were rarely used…

I should have counted the steps. I didn’t. And by the time they ended, in a small square room, I had no idea how deep I’d gone. But my worries took a back seat to joy. In the space between one step and the next, I’d come home.

* * *

Reliefs coveredall four walls of the room. I knew every character, every triumph and tragedy of the pictures that surrounded me. This was Hestian history so old it had never been recorded, except for here, in this place.

No. In two places. Here, and back in the Redstone Canyon. And I might be the only person left in Hestia that knew the tales.

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