Chapter 25
Iawoke the next day with the sun streaming through the small window in the room where I’d been assigned to sleep. Bunks filled the room, now empty, servants no doubt up before the sun rose, ready to attend to their duties. I stretched out, yawning, feeling more at peace than I had in a while. Last night I’d thought I was going to die. Today, well, today was a new day.
The window, though tiny, gave a small view of the court spread out below, as well as the dazzling green of the hilly highlands, the jagged gray of the isle, the neat square city. Loch was somewhere down there, along with Leoni and Driscoll. I’d make my way to the inn and apologize for everything. I only hoped they’d forgive me for running away like that. They were probably worried sick. Hopefully they hadn’t left for Sorrengard without me.
That was an issue I’d worry about once I got out of here.
I climbed down the ladder of the bunk, noticing my boots pushed up against the wall. I slipped them on and wondered what I was supposed to do. The queen had said Erasmus would escort me, right? The king had called him captain, so he must’ve been a busy man. I hoped he hadn’t forgotten about me. Just as the worries started to pile up, Erasmus appeared in the doorway.
“Are you ready?”
“Y-yes.” I hurried toward him, eager to be free of this place.
We emerged into a dark hallway, nothing like the bright airy ones we’d walked through last night with the moon gleaming through the big windows. This was all stone, and servants scurried past us, carrying trays, cleaning supplies, baskets of clothes. A few of them shot me odd looks, same as the people in Winded had.
Something felt so distinctly wrong, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. I shot a sidelong glance at Erasmus. Maybe he could give me some insight into that conversation from last night. We ascended up uneven stone steps that led to a wooden door. Erasmus opened it, and the sun burst through as we entered into a hallway.
No, I decided. I wouldn’t pry. I didn’t need to ask questions, didn’t need to know whatever was going on with the king and queen. It didn’t concern me, especially now that they were letting me go.
“I’m sorry about last night,” Erasmus said quietly, hands behind his back.
I raised my chin. “You should be. You scared me to death. Threw me in a cage when I’d done nothing wrong.”
“Guilty people don’t run,” Erasmus said.
I stopped, staring at him. “Excuse me?”
“You ran last night. When you first saw me, realized I was after you. You ran. So maybe you’re not who I thought you were, but you are someone.”
I waved my hand. “Well, that’s silly. Everyone is someone.”
His lips twitched. “What’s your name again?”
“Poppy,” I said, kicking myself. I needed to be nicer to the captain of the guard. I certainly didn’t need to antagonize him. I might end up back in a cage after all.
We arrived at the end of the hallway, which opened up into the big foyer we were in last night, chandelier hanging and catching bits of sun, splattering it against the silver walls. Servants scrubbed the white floor, keeping it pristine and shining. Two doors twice my height stood at the front of the room, a guard on either side. Erasmus nodded to the guards, and they pushed the doors open to reveal a huge platform where sky elementals landed and took off from. Steps led from the platform down to a glass bridge that stretched over a moat and out toward the grassy land.
My cheeks flushed as I realized what he expected me to do. He was waiting for me to walk out those doors, spread my wings, and fly. I licked my lips. “Uh, I...” If only my brain was working, I could say something. Just then, a servant dipped into an alcove off to the side, one lit with bright candles, a statue of Spirit Sky rising up in the center. I gasped, and Erasmus turned.
“Do you want to see it before you leave?” he asked.
“Yes,” I breathed, excited both because it looked beautiful but also because it bought me time to think of what I might say about why I couldn’t fly. I could just admit it but didn’t want to bring more attention to myself.
Our boots scraped the floor as we strode across the room toward the alcove. Flowers lay at Spirit Sky’s feet, and two small brown pews stood in front of the statue. One woman knelt at a pew, head bowed. She stood, bowing again before brushing past us.
“People come here to ask Spirit Sky for favors,” Erasmus whispered. “In return they give him an offering. They believe they’re closer to him up here, in his former castle. So their prayers are more likely to be answered.”
“And you? Do you believe that?” I asked.
Erasmus smiled. “I’m no scholar or historian. Just a captain of the guard.”
Historian. That made me think of Emory. Still locked up there in that cage. She’d seemed so sure she’d get out soon. For her sake, I hoped she was right.
Erasmus gestured to a pew. “Go ahead. Take a few minutes. There’s no rush.”
“Thank you,” I said as I walked forward, dropping down into a kneeling position and staring up at the statue.
It was similar to the one in Winged. Tall and mighty, a bolt in one hand, the other resting at his thigh. His wings spread out wide, and I couldn’t help but wonder what color they’d been. That was never included in any of the drawings we had of Spirit Sky. Then I thought about Emory’s words. It was hard to believe something this powerful could be trapped by anyone.
But no. Emory was just a woman with a few theories. Not an expert. Surely if there was any evidence pointing to the fact that the spirits had been trapped, that someone wanted them gone, we’d have uncovered it by now.
Erasmus had said this was a place to come and ask Spirit Sky for favors. I chewed the inside of my cheek.
Maybe I could ask him for one small favor. It couldn’t hurt to try.
I took a deep breath, glancing behind me, but Erasmus was busy speaking with one of his guards. This felt so silly. Gran never encouraged me to talk to the spirits, just to learn about them, to understand where the magic she wouldn’t teach me to use came from. To study them from an objective viewpoint, without reverence or silly fantasies floating in my head.
Spirit Sky’s serious face stared down at me, as if waiting for me to just get on with it. Here went nothing.
Spirit Sky, I’ve never asked you for anything. I’ve never talked to you, in truth. I’ve read about you. I’ve learned you were fearsome. A sight to behold in olden days. I’ve learned to be in awe of you. I’ve learned to respect you. Yet I never learned about my own magic that comes from you. I’ve recently started to use this magic. In tiny bits and pieces, but it’s not enough. I want to spread my wings and fly. I want to know who I am. I know I’m not worthy of this power. Not when I’ve given you nothing in return, have nothing to offer. But please help me anyway. Reveal my true self. I want to know it more than anything.
I stayed there, head bowed. Erasmus said it was best to give an offering to Spirit Sky. My heart sank. I had nothing. No gold. No jewelry. Not a single item of value. Gran’s words floated through my head.
“This is a special song. One just for you and me.”
I had that. The song that always soothed me, made me feel safe in a world filled with danger. Maybe that could be enough. If it wasn’t, at least I’d tried.
I hummed the tune, letting its simple rhythm wash over me, settle my bones and my breathing. The lilting harmony was imprinted on my memory as it floated through the air, and I hoped somewhere, Spirit Sky was receiving it, taking this gift and giving me one in return.
“Hush, my dear
Let the fear
Fade and ebb away
Sweet little dear
Know that I’m here
Night and day”
“Where did you learn that?” a voice said from behind me.
The song froze in my throat. I recognized that icy tone from the night before. I turned, bowing my head. “Your Majesty. I was just leaving, I promise. I thought I’d say a simple prayer and give an offering.” I gestured to my dirty, wrinkled clothes and matted hair. “I don’t exactly have anything to give back, so I thought I’d sing a song. I’m sorry if it was offensive in some way?—”
Her green eyes welled with tears.
Oh no. I’d made the queen cry. Once again I’d been so stupid. All I’d had to do was leave. That was it, but of course, I wanted more. I wanted to see the little alcove, to say a prayer to Spirit Sky. Now I’d probably be flown up and dropped straight onto those iron spikes for making the queen shed actual tears.
Yet again, I had to wonder what in the Seven Spirits my gran had done. What song she’d sung to me that could make the queen of the sky court so upset.
The queen gestured to the space next to me where I knelt. “May I?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
She strode forward, sinking down, hands folded in front of her. “Who taught you that song?” Her gaze stayed on Spirit Sky.
“My gran,” I said, wincing, not sure if I should be truthful about the matter.
The queen straightened. “Your gran?” she asked, voice low and dangerous.
“The woman who raised me.”
“What is her name?” she asked.
“Silla,” I said. “Silla Taramaud.”
She inhaled a deep, shaky breath. “Bloody skies,” she muttered, and it took me aback to hear such words come from the queen’s mouth. “This gran of yours has much to answer for.”
“Does the name mean something to you?” I asked.
Her lips flattened into a thin line. “I’m afraid not.”
“Please, tell me what she did,” I said. “I will do my best to atone for it. She is old now, she’s sick. She probably doesn’t have much time left?—”
“She kidnapped our daughter,” the queen replied, voice sharp enough to slice the statue of Spirit Sky in two.
That stopped me. “Your daughter?” I asked slowly, not understanding.
The queen continued to stare straight ahead. “Twenty-two years, four months, and sixteen days. That’s the last time I held my baby girl in my arms before I put her down to sleep, humming a song to her. It’s not a well-known song because I made it up. Yet you know it. How is that possible?”
It wasn’t. My mind was still stuck on that number. “Twenty-two years...” I trailed off, racking my brain. I would’ve been a baby, newly born. Surely Gran wouldn’t have left me in the tower to traipse off and steal a princess...
My chest tightened, squeezing the breath from me. The queen finally turned her gaze to me, green eyes bright with tears, the lines of her face more pronounced in the daylight.
“You have my eyes,” she said softly. “Your father’s hair, though you wouldn’t know it now that his has turned white.” Her lips twitched. “You’ve got the same wing color as I do.” She trailed a finger down my cheek. “Those same round cheeks with freckles. I’ll admit, many have looked similar who’ve come before. But none of them”—her finger hooked under my chin—“have known that song. Imposters who claim they’re the lost princess are easy to spot because of how badly they want to be her. Yet you...”
My entire body felt like it had been dunked in ice cold water. “What, exactly, are you saying?”
“I believe you’re my daughter. The one who we thought dead for twenty-two years. Princess Arabella Gustavias of the sky court.”