Page 100 of Shadow and Smite

I wrapped my hand around her hip, kissing her just below the antler. We celebrated our young relationship, constantly seeking each other’s warmth and company—even at the risk of our court’s teasing.

Since they were best suited for a queen, Eleanor had claimed Inarus’s apartments. At first, she protested, but I cleared the necromantic tools and put everything into storage except for the crystal skull. Eleanor now used the skull as a focus with Gloom.

Inarus’s body had become a pile of ash, one of the possible final deaths of a necromancer. Near his body had been a mound of shards, splinters of black diamond. Eleanor now carried them in a pouch at her waist.

Ayla helped clean the apartment. She reviewed Inarus’s letters and learned his ciphers, establishing the groundwork of our intelligence.

Calindra had been his primary contact. No one else was named, but others were mentioned in code.The Humble Onehad provided Inarus with the “unwanted” fae from the underbelly of the cities.The Collectorhad provided Inarus with supplies and gold. Apparently, they assumed the stronghold would be a secure repository—our new resources ran deeper than expected.

By claiming this space, we had made enemies. Enemies we couldn’t even identify.

Eleanor needed friends.

Her work with Gloom was all-consuming. Particular as ever, she kept a tight schedule. She gave the appearance of grace.

Through it all, Eleanor had started a great tapestry. Whenever she sat on the throne, she pulled the starting rows across her lap, allowing the work to drape over her for the duration of her meditation. The border was a motif of raindrops interspersed with ashflower. There would be a larger design, one she hadn’t explained, and one day it would cover the wall behind her throne.

Ysandra stood outside the throne room, one of Eleanor’s four personal guards.

“Is she…?” I asked.

“She is stirring,” Ysandra answered, pushing the door open and motioning for us to step inside.

We no longer burned the enchanted logs in the throne room, allowing Gloom and Eleanor to communicate easily.

Still, the throne room was brightly lit. A roaring fire filled the fireplace, and fae lights illuminated the rest. Finally, we could see the potential of the throne room.

Someone had brought Eleanor’s old tapestries, those she had sewn during our exile. They covered the side walls, warming the room with her dreams, stitches depicting a future for our isle.

The throne had grown substantially. Ninti had taken to sleeping at its base, strengthening its roots. The throne now glistened like polished wood. Engravings embossed its sides, shapes of pomegranates and crows.

Eleanor rested on her throne, sipping at tea, the root-cuff still wrapped around her wrist. The crystal skull lay discarded on her lap, wrinkling the tapestry in progress.

My twin sister smiled as we entered. “Glad I stirred in time.”

She set the tea on a nearby table, next to a slice of buttered bread and a dollop of jam. We had learned it was best for her to wake slowly. She recovered faster if she ate immediately after waking from her meditative state. She had to stay grounded. She had to keep her strength.

“Gloom wishes you the best,” she said.

“Any word from Teyr?” I asked.

She shook her head. “None, but Gloom is unconcerned. It’s amazing that Teyr could contact me at all considering how he…” Eleanor squinted her eyes at me, appraising. “Anyhow, I don’t expect to hear from Teyr again.”

I nodded. “Teyr was right, you know. About the ashflower. We had enough.”

She laughed. “If his divinations are accurate, he knows far more than Gloom. She thinks we were lucky—and that her brother is pompous.”

That was consistent with the songs about the god. Where Gloom was distant, Teyr was daunting.

“The ashflower is tied to both gods,” Eleanor added. “Something about obsidian—how they both contribute. Life turned to ash turned to life.”

“Hopefully, we’ll never need it again,” I added.

With a glance at Ayla, Eleanor changed the subject. “Now to the matter at hand. We need to say goodbye.”

Ayla approached Eleanor first, dipping her head in respect. Eleanor gave her attempt at a friendly smile. She worked to accept Ayla. Eleanor grieved how our relationship had changed with Ayla in my life—but my twin knew I would never abandon her.

Unfortunately, they weren’t the most natural pairing. Ayla was dynamic where Eleanor was somber.

---