Page 125 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
“If anyone sees any mushrooms, let me know!” said Luna. “There’s a lovely nutty one with a purple sheen. Goes lovely with—”
Minerva sighed. “Stay together,” she warned. “And stay sharp.”
“This isbeautiful,” Beau sighed, his eyes lined with silver.
Aislinn wrinkled her nose. “Are you crying?”
“I’m going to run out of paper…”
“Don’t let the prettiness fool you, lad,” Minerva warned. “We’ve a long way to go yet.”
Venuswatchedthegroupleave from the highest point of the palace, her eyes rooted on the party as they traipsed through the wide, narrow streets, and finally disappeared behind the row of houses.
How many times had she watched them go before?
A part of her had wanted to walk with them, to stay by Minnie’s side until she descended, as she’d done a hundred times before. She’d gone with her, once or twice, but she wasn’t made for the Deep, for the dark and the danger and dirt. That was always more Minerva’s calling.
And Clay’s.
She’d been terrified, when she asked him to marry her, that he’d refuse—that he’d say he wasn’t made for a life in the palace, that he belonged in the Deep.
“Of course I belong there,” had been his response, “but I belong with you, too. I can belong to two places, Ven. Two places—and one person. Yes, Venus Mountain-Born, I will marry you.”
Clay had never given up the Deep, and she had never asked him to. For decades afterwards, he’d go down into the depths, sometimes on missions, sometimes to visit his hometown, sometimes with Minerva and sometimes justbecause.Because it called to him. Because he had to answer.
Venus had never understood, but that didn’t matter. Clay didn’t understand why she felt the need to wrap herself in spiky, bejewelled clothes, either. Understanding was different from acceptance, and they accepted each other wholeheartedly for who they were. She never loved him any less for his wildness and crass humour, and he never loved her any less for being afraid of the Deep and determined to cover her life in beautiful things.
The first time she’d shared her fears with him, he’d kissed her eyes and told her, “you are no less beautiful for your fears, but you are more beautiful for sharing them.”
She’d fallen in love with him all over again in that moment.
It was one of the joys of their constant separation, how the loss would sweeten the return, how they’d spend weeks getting to know each other again with all the giddiness of the first time. Sometimes, she almost looked forward to his departure, knowing how grateful she’d be for the return.
Until the day he didn’t come back.
No more departures, no more returns. Just emptiness where Clay had once been and love transformed to grief with nowhere to go.
Nowhere to go.
That was what life without Clay was like. Stagnant and still, a broken tram on the tracks. Nothing moved, nothing changed. Everything that brought her joy, that used to make her laugh and smile, withered and died in her presence.
Years now, and that feeling had never altered.
Until Aeron appeared.
Lightbringer.That was his name. It was like the Stone had brought him to her, some guiding force. Here to bring her back to the light, with promises that ought to have been impossible—
But they weren’t. She’d seen it for certain now, with the arrival of the young prince. It could be done. It had to be.
She was worried about Minerva, of course. Not just about what would happen to her in the Deep, not just because everything was depending upon her returning with the Mirror, but because it was clear she cared about the boy, and despite everything, Minerva had never wanted to hurt her. These past few days with her in the palace, she’d wanted to tell her everything, wanted to throw off her jewels and crown and lie with her in their petticoats staring at the ceiling, talking of everything and nothing. She wanted to bury the years between them.
But she couldn’t risk Minnie turning her back on her and refusing to follow the plan, prizing this prince above Clay, above her sister, above her kingdom.
Venus sighed, turning away from her view of the city, and wandered through the halls, down towards the throne room, to the vault behind the seat. She glided past meaningless jewels and towers of coins, to a glass coffin at the end of the room.
She placed her hand against the lid, thinking little of the person still inside.
Soon,she promised.
