59. Chapter 54
Chapter 54
The House of Steel was created by the only dragon to win a fight with the Hunters. Sidon was always the fiercest warrior, and when provoked, there were none that could defeat him.
~Vyran the Black, A History of Magic and Dragons
Maeve
I was going to die. It didn’t matter what I did to Gethin; he was going to survive it. Was that how Roderic felt? I’d thought Rhion was powerful. I was wrong. Echo saved my life.
“Wow, he is gross!” Echo says as soon as we’re safely in the void. “Did you really stab him in the head, and he kept fighting?”
How in the name of Lysara are we supposed to kill Gethin? If he can burn through shadows and his body can heal from anything, what can we possibly do?
“I think we’re going to need to talk to Casimir and Brenna before we fight Gethin again. I don’t know if he’s killable.”
I can’t see Echo with my eyes, but I can sense that she’s frowning. “I think you’re right. But you need to claim your Throne. He can’t get to the Throne of Earth as fast as we can.”
“You’re right.” I take a deep breath and reach out to find the Keep of Earth. I know I need to hurry, but in the back of my mind, I can’t help but worry that no matter what we do, Gethin is going to be too powerful. For the first time since receiving the Painted Crown, I feel weak again, and that is not something I enjoy.
I reach out to the shadows I know should be in the Keep of Earth based on their location. Images of halls made of deep brown and floors of gorgeous greens flood my mind as my shadows explore a world that I’ve never seen before.
“Ready?” I ask Echo.
“Not really? But Gethin could rush there, so we need to go.” That’s exactly the way I feel, and when I wrap my fingers around her hand, she gives it a squeeze of reassurance. I’m finding that we’re not all that different. We both want to do the right thing, but neither of us is really prepared for the world and the conflict that’s waiting.
I pull us through the shadows, and we end up in a hallway that I only had an image of. I hadn’t understood what was waiting for us. The floors are made of moss agate, a verdant whisper of tranquility, while the walls are made of what looks to be a silhouette of a forest in the middle of the night. Grays and browns make up the bark of what I’m guessing is supposed to be birch trees. In between them is a darkness that looks very similar to the shadows of trees.
Every other Keep has been simple and opulent. A single stone makes up each one, and while it’s gorgeous, it’s very one-dimensional. This is anything but. I run my finger over the birch bark and am shocked at the texture. It’s bark, but it’s stone. They created the walls of the Keep of Earth out of petrified wood. In between the trees of stone, the black is jet. It almost absorbs the bit of light that shines through the window at the end of the hallway.
“This is beautiful,” Echo says as she runs her fingers over the jet. “I wonder if all the halls are like this.”
“I don’t know. If the Keep of Earth is like other Keeps, it will be, but already, this one is quite a bit different. This would take so much more skill and power than the others.”
A slow grating sound pulls my attention away from the walls. As soon as my mind clears and I pay attention to the world around me, I feel it. A steady thrumming power that calls to me. As soon as my mind is clear, it’s a beacon that I can’t ignore.
Even when the slow scratching sound reverberates down the hallways. Echo looks more than a little nervous, but I’m already moving toward the power. She follows me down hallway after hallway through a maze of twists and turns. Unlike the Keep of Shadows, there are no corpses anywhere. The only clue that there was a terrible fight here are the multitudes of dried pools of blood which have become crimson stains in the stone.
Those stains stand in eerie contrast to the grandeur surrounding them. Golden chandeliers, dripping with candlelight, cast a flickering glow from the vaulted ceiling. Along the walls, paintings capture the vastness of the world—jagged mountaintops piercing the sky, restless oceans stretching beyond sight, meadows teeming with life.
Then there are the sculptures. Towering monoliths of stone, each one is carved into the shape of something monstrous. Some loom like grotesque hybrids—humanoid figures twisted with bat-like faces and leathery wings. Others resemble lions, but their snarling muzzles bear disturbingly human features. Claws like daggers. Fangs gleaming, as if poised to tear into flesh. These are no ordinary statues. They are frozen nightmares, immortalized in marble and obsidian.
Then I see what’s screeching, and I stop. The pulsing power is close. So close. The door in front of us hangs from a single hinge. The dark cherry wood of the door has been battered and cut. Only splinters remain where the handle should be. An invisible wind keeps it moving, slowly creaking, and part of me wonders how long it’s been making that noise. Has it really been screeching incessantly for thirty years?
“That’s the Throne Room,” I say to Echo, who’s breathing heavily next to me. “Let’s try not to be surprised again?”
She grins up at me, and I feel around the Throne Room with my Earth senses to see what’s inside. There aren’t any people inside it. No Rhion or Gethin. No small army. Just furniture, art, and a surprising number of those monstrous sculptures. And the Throne, of course.
I nod to Echo, and we walk into the Throne Room. The moss agate floors and ceilings are just the same as every other room. The walls match the rest of the Keep with its petrified wood and jet design. The Throne of Earth, made of green and brown banded agate, is set against the far wall, and twenty-foot tall floor to ceiling windows allow light to pour into the room. Every few feet along the walls, there’s another one of those terrifying sculptures.
In the very center of the room with a sword still in him, a corpse with dark brown hair is left. Every other corpse was removed, but this singular person was left, and I can only believe that it’s Roderic. The former King of Earth.
I approach him carefully, not entirely sure that there aren’t any traps here. The sword is beautiful, not a soldier’s sword. Glyphs and sigils cover the steel, etched in gold. A king’s sword. Unlike Casimir, Gethin went to war with the House of Earth. Gethin killed Roderic.
I would expect him to be decayed after thirty years, but he looks like he died this morning. If you pulled the sword out and cleaned up the bloodstain under him, you’d think he was just sleeping.
He’s a handsome man. Where Casimir is sharp in every way, Roderic seems solid. His face is squared rather than narrow. His hair is thick. His body is just as solid, though it’s not massive like Rhion. In truth, he seems almost normal compared to the other powerful men I’ve met.
Almost like Gethin.
Then I hear another sound, and it’s not the door this time. Like stone against stone, it’s everywhere. Echoing in the otherwise silent chamber, I look around and realize the mistake I’d made the moment I appeared in the Keep of Earth.
What kind of Lesser Fae serve the House of Earth ?
The sculptures are moving. Slowly moving, but each of them has turned those nightmare faces toward me and is standing up.