Page 94 of The Shadowed Oracle
Stealthily, she made her way down the spiral staircase, following the flickering light of the torches as she descended. The path to her destination was only a rough estimate in her mind. She remembered certain things, certain markers from when Callinora first led them through the castle, but in the days since, she hadn’t had the confidence or the time to really look for it.
Izadora’s statue.
Ever since first seeing it, she’d wanted to revisit it. Touch it, even, as long as no prying Maradenn eyes were around to witness. She wanted to see if the physical embrace of the ancient monument connected her in some way to her forebearer. Maybe even activate some of the power.
It was a stretch—sure. But something deep inside drove her, calling for her to seek it out anyway.
An icy wind blew through one of the many small balconies as she got to the floor of the throne room. A few strands of her hair tickled her face, and then again as she made her way through the door of the king’s meeting quarters.
She’d been there twice now. On arrival, and once more when Callinora asked her and her companions to attend anotherpublic event with the civilians of the city. It'd been a short affair, but was quickly followed by the princess dragging them to a private nearby room in order to introduce them to the three soldiers set to accompany them on their journey.
Callinora was more than methodical in how often she was seen with the world-walkers, keeping the outings to a minimum, so Ingrid kept her intentions to venture out to herself. She hadn’t asked to see the effigy, fearing it would seem silly, or that Callinora might figure out why Ingrid was so interested in the first Oracle. That bit of information was still her most protected secret, something even her gracious host could not learn of.
Retracing the steps she’d first taken, Ingrid marched slowly down the hallways and around the winding corridors. She came to a divergence, searching her memory before deciding to go left. Things were becoming familiar. Although the chandeliers had been put out, she recognized each bit of decoration and each marble sculpture as she got closer. She could feel it. The next turn was a hard right, and beyond that would be Izadora.
She smiled, shaking slightly with excitement as she walked.
“What are you doing here?”
Ingrid turned, chills spreading over her arms.
“Must I repeat myself?”
Dressed in a long, silk night robe, his wiry yellow hair unkempt and dangling over his ears, Ballius stood with condemnatory eyes. He must’ve been driven from bed by his thoughts, out for a walk just like Ingrid was. Now that he was standing there, she felt foolish for not thinking of it earlier, for allowing her issues with Dean to cloud her judgment. The castle was huge, yes, but she was risking exactly this by walking out late at night. The simple fact that she was alone and wandering was suspicious. At least in the light of day, she could blend into the crowd, could use any number of excuses.
There was a reason Callinora had set strict ground rules.
“No need,” Ingrid answered him. “I can’t sleep.”
Ballius gave her a brief look that resembled empathy, as if he could relate, but then it was right back to his usual prissy self. “No one, especially not guests, should be pottering around the castle at this hour. Please, find your way back to bed.”
It wouldn’t do. Ingrid scoured her mind for an excuse, some way to be rid of him. Play it meek and ignorant? Perhaps tell him she was lost? Or try to scandalize him, tell him she was trying to find Dean’s room?
Finally, she stammered, “I’m… I’m lost, I think.”
“Oh,” Ballius sneered. “In that case, shall I escort you?”
“No,” she blurted. Then quickly added, in a soft, innocent tone, “I wouldn’t want to disturb you. I’ll find my way.”
“Are you sure?” He peered down the halls. “It can be quite hard to find your way in the dark. Please, let me?—"
“I’ll be fine.” The answer was too quick, too impatient.
Ballius seemed to grow roots where he stood. “Out of curiosity.” He looked to the path ahead, the direction Ingrid was heading. To Izadora, just around the corner. “Do you mean to continue down this way?”
Ingrid almost cursed. Why hadn’t she told him to piss off? Why had she panicked? What could this impish man do to her anyway? All she had to do was divert attention away from the statue, and she’d failed.
“I told you I’d be fine,” Ingrid said.
Ballius snapped backward, like he’d caught a whiff of something unpleasant. “My, my, I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve this hostility,” he said, feigning amusement. “I was only looking out for my most cherished guest. You see, that way, it will take you in the opposite direction of where you seek.”
Ingrid didn’t react, didn’t so much as blink. “Then the scenic route it is.”
She stomped away angrily..
But Ballius stopped her, his hand gripping her just above the elbow.
“Honestly, girl,” he said, his voice a strangled whisper. “Will you drop the charade?”
