Chapter 23
My head throbbed as I sat up, and I blinked a few times. I rubbed my eyes but couldn’t seem to focus my vision, everything a blurry landscape of darkness.
A gusty wind raged around me, throwing me against a wall. My head banged into metal. Not a wall. My vision cleared, and I stared in horror at iron bars. A cage. I was in a cage.
I gripped onto the bars, heart pounding in my ears, my throat, my stomach. I was going to be sick. I hunched over, having a hard time catching my breath. Panic seized me. I’d left a perfect night with Loch for this. To sneak out and immediately get captured by... well, I didn’t know. I stuffed my head in between my knees, dragging breath into my lungs in short spurts.
Calm. I needed to remain calm. Gran’s song popped into my mind, her voice melodic and soothing.
“Hush, my dear
Let the fear
Fade and ebb away
Sweet little dear
Know that I’m here
Night and day”
But even the song couldn’t stop the hammering of my heart.
“The view is a bit of a shock at first, but you’ll get used to it,” a voice said.
My head snapped up, and I realized I wasn’t the only one here. The wind whistled through the bars with an eerie tune.
I reached for my magic but couldn’t grasp the thread inside of me. Iron. Of course. The iron dulled my powers. Gran had told me all the prisons across Arathia were made of iron to keep elementals from using their magic to escape.
My vision adjusted to the dark, my surroundings crystallizing around me. I sat on a gray floor, bars surrounding me on all sides, Winded far, far, below. So far below all I could see were the flickering lights of the city that looked like pinpricks. My gaze traveled to the high castle peaks surrounding me, the sweeping glass windows, the silver-studded walls, and I realized where I was. My back sank against the bars. I’d been brought to the castle prison cells, which apparently, were located at the highest point—and were outside.
My gaze landed on a woman, wingless, who stared at me, smirking. “There you go, putting it all together.” She spread out her arms. “Welcome. It’s a beautiful view, no? Unless, of course, you’re afraid of heights. But you have wings, so you’ll be fine.”
I clutched my stomach, which roiled with anxiety. “Please stop talking.”
I turned and rattled the bars again, then noticed the glass walkway that stretched all the way to a single door, which led into a high tower.
“That’s where the prison guards are.” The woman nodded her head. “All the cells lead to that tower.”
My gaze swept around the sky, and that’s when I noticed all the other cells. Every single one the same as ours, four sides of iron bars, all with a single glass walkway that led to the tower. The cages floated, suspended in air. Likely with the same magic that made the castle float.
The woman leaned forward, her blue eyes twinkling. “A few prisoners have actually managed to escape, but they unfortunately didn’t make it across the walkway. Wind blew them straight off.” She glanced at my wings. “Wings help, but even then, the wind is sometimes too strong.”
I pressed a hand to my forehead. I’d gotten myself into such a horrible mess, and now I feared there would be no way out. I’d escaped my tower, gotten to Winded, all for this to be my end. I had no idea what the king and queen were after, why their guards had taken me.
My head thunked back against the bars.
“I’m Emory, by the way,” the woman said.
Right. I had a cellmate. I looked at Emory, her white-blond hair short, brushing her shoulders, her blue eyes so pale they almost looked like ice. They twinkled like this was all some game and not our lives at stake.
“I’m Poppy.” I shivered and rubbed my arms. “How long have you been here?”
She shrugged. “A day.”
“How can you be so nonchalant about all of this?”
Emory picked a piece of lint from her dress, a bright blue woolen frock that reminded me of the sky on a sunny day. “What am I supposed to do? Be miserable, sink into a depression?”
“Well, this is a rather depressing place,” I said. “You’re okay with just dying here?”
She waved her hand. “Oh, I won’t die here. This is actually a vacation compared to my real life, but he’ll find me eventually—sooner than later—and I’ll be taken away once again.”
“Who will find you?”
She shot me a curious look. “The better question is why are you here? Ms. Doe-Eyed. You don’t look like you’d harm a fly, so what could you have done to get yourself thrown into the sky prisons?”
My jaw locked and I looked away. “I don’t know.”
She barked out a laugh. “Okay, if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine. But you don’t have to lie.”
I sent her a sharp glare. “I’m not lying. I truly don’t have any idea why they took me. Maybe they’re mistaking me for someone else.”
Even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. This had to do with Gran, and I cursed her for her secrets. They were no longer protecting me like she’d intended. Now they were just damning me.
I tugged at my long hair, which whipped around in a frenzy. “I think it might have to do with my gran. She went missing a few months ago, but she harbored a lot of secrets, ones I could never get her to divulge. I think maybe the sky king and queen have some sort of vendetta against her, and they know I’m her granddaughter, so they’re after me now.”
Emory let out a low whistle. “Paying for your grandmother’s sins? Well, that’s shit.”
I didn’t disagree.
“They’ll come for you, you know. You’ll get an audience with His and Her Majesty, and you’ll either live to tell the tale, or...” She tipped her head to the iron stakes lining the flat rooftop below. “You’ll get thrown down there.”
My breath hitched. Oh, blood and skies.
“Have you had an audience with them?” I asked.
She shook her head, that white-blond hair twisting in the wind. “No.” She scoffed. “I tried to tell the guards who I was, but they refused to believe me. They’ll find out soon enough.”
I wondered what that meant.
“What did you do, then?” My voice grew curious. “To get thrown in here?”
Emory clucked her tongue. “Made a stupid mistake.” She leaned forward, bending a knee and hooking an arm around it. “I was after something, a powerful object. But someone else was after it, too, and that made me act rashly. I wasn’t careful.” She shrugged. “I trespassed onto some sacred ancient ground to get to it first, not sticking to my original plan of staking out the area. It was foolish, and now here I am.”
“What powerful object? What were you going to do with it?”
She gathered her hair back, even as wisps escaped with the wind. “I’m a collector of sorts. I find hard-to-find objects, sometimes for others. Sometimes for myself. Though it’s been difficult to get away lately.”
“Get away from what?”
“Have you heard of the bolt of Valoris?”
She’d ignored my question. She’d ignored multiple questions, and that fact hadn’t escaped me. Then her words hit me. “Spirit Sky’s bolt? That’s what you were after? You mean to tell me you know where it is, that it’s real?”
Despite the depictions of Spirit Sky with his bolt, the monuments, the lore, no one had been sure it was real since it had never been found.
“Well it’s not officially real until I find it,” she said. “But yes, I believe all the spirits’ weapons are real. And if anyone can find them, it’s me.”
My mouth dropped open. “But why? Why do you do this? Is it for the gold?”
“No.” Her voice was flat.
I’d touched a nerve.
“It’s history,” she breathed. “It’s important. There are those who would silence history, who don’t want us to know the truth about the spirits, about those of the Old World. But history doesn’t lie. I’m uncovering the truths, and I’m going to share them with the world one day. If I’m ever allowed.” She crossed her arms and sank back against the iron bars.
My brows furrowed, and despite all the other things I had to worry about, I couldn’t help but be intrigued. “What truths about the spirits?”
She perked up at that. “I think I’ve found evidence that the Seven Spirits didn’t leave this world of their own accord. I don’t think they’re hiding like everyone believes. I think they might have been trapped by those of the Old World, and in turn, trapping them is what caused the Old World’s ultimate demise.”
No one knew what, exactly, had happened to those of the Old World. All we had was what history told us: the journals, the artifacts, the books. We knew there was once a world of elementals like us who worshipped the Seven Spirits. That the spirits appeared regularly to them, ruled over them. But the Old World came to an end abruptly, the Seven Spirits disappeared, and no one knew why. We had theories, of course, but nothing concrete. If what Emory was saying was true, that would change everything. That would make the spirits far more dangerous than we’d thought, not something to worship but something to fear.
Exactly what Gran had always said.
“But then how did we get our powers?” I asked. “If the spirits are trapped, why would we be able to harness their magic?”
Our direct ancestors found the continent of Arathia a thousand years after the Old World had been destroyed, overgrown and empty. They brought life to it, and slowly their powers manifested. They became the original rulers and brought more people to the continent, practicing rituals that they’d found in ancient texts, which gave everyone powers. Those rituals had long since been locked away, forbidden for anyone to practice. Now magic was hereditary, not something you could do a ritual to gain. At least that’s what I’d read.
“It’s an interesting theory,” I said slowly. “But it can’t be right.”
Emory crossed her arms, a challenge in her stare. “Then what do you think?”
I shrugged helplessly. “I’m clearly not as well versed as you are. I’m not a historian or a scholar, but I do read a lot, and I know the leading theory is that those of the Old World became disobedient, used their powers to engage in conflict and war, and it displeased the spirits. So they destroyed the Old World and then disappeared to Galaysia, where they still reside today waiting to greet those who come there in death.”
She snorted. “You think the spirits would just stay away in the spirit world? They’d miss the opportunity to be worshipped and adored by thousands and thousands of people?” She shook her head. “No, not likely.”
Curiosity got the better of me. “So did you actually see the bolt before you got arrested for trespassing?”
She frowned. “No, I didn’t.”
“Did this mysterious rival of yours get it?”
Her lips flattened into a thin line. “No. He’s the one who baited me into doing something stupid. He’s the reason I got caught.”
She spoke of him with so much hatred I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Who is he? This rival of yours?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never seen his face, but he’s known as the bone collector.”
A shiver ran down my spine at that name.
“He’s gone after a lot of the same objects as me. It’s become somewhat of a game between us, a game I have no interest in playing. As if my life isn’t hard enough, I don’t need someone to—” She stopped herself. “Anyway, like I said, I’ll be out of here soon enough and then hopefully I can try again, this time without any distractions.”
This woman was such a wonder. I found myself fascinated by her, by her life. “How do you even begin to find these objects? It sounds like they’re hidden, not easy to locate.”
At that she smiled. “I’m a bit of a history aficionado. I love digging into the past, reading about legends and lore, finding clues. It’s a passion of mine. I’m good at finding things that are hard to find.”
Curiouser and curiouser.
“Well, I’m glad to have met you, Emory, and to have gotten to hear your theories on the Seven Spirits. It’s very interesting. You’ve helped distract me from the horrors of my night.” For a short time, at least. “How do you sleep up here?” I asked.
Her smile turned grim. “You don’t, really. You attempt to. You might drift off when you’re tired enough, but something will wake you soon enough: the wind, the cold, the screams, the moans.”
I shuddered. “Perfect.”
“You’re not meant to survive up here,” she said. “The king and queen will hear your story, and they’ll decide if you’re to be punished with community work, servitude in the castle, more time spent here, in these cages, or...” Once again, she tipped her head toward the iron stakes. “It’s a fun lottery to win.”
“You’re really not afraid?” I said. “You think you’ll just be able to waltz out of here?”
She waved her hand. “Oh, I know I will. It’s just a matter of time.”
She didn’t expand on that, and just then, the black door to the tower opened, a guard marching across the glass walkway, his wings wide open behind him as the fierce gales fought against him. A heavy chain linked his belt to a bar on the side of the walkway, scraping along as he walked, keeping him safe should he fall.
Prisoners from all the cages called out to him, rattling the bars, yelling for help, but he marched with a single focus, eyes locked on me. He unlocked the door and it swung open with a creak.
I swallowed, mouth going dry. It was already time to see the king and queen? I looked up at the moon. At this time of night? Surely I wasn’t that important.
Emory turned her wide eyes on me. “Who, exactly, are you, Poppy?” she asked as the guard yanked me from the cell and started marching me toward my fate.
It was a good question. One I wished I had an answer to.