11. Chapter Eleven
11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELODIE
T he grey and brown cobblestones spread from the courtyard to meet a wide road, stretching out far ahead and growing darker the further away they got. Winding like a serpent through a large swath of grass that sparkled with the dewdrops that adorned each blade.
A few roads split from the main path, some disappearing into the enormous forest that consumed much of the horizon, trees dark in the low light. Mountains jutted into the sky behind them, peaks topped with snow and accompanied by the rocky slopes of a volcano lazily billowing smoke into the air, an unnerving thin red vein of lava steadily trickling down its ridge.
The vague shape of something larger, maybe some sort of town—though I had no idea which one—appeared as a dark patch past the furthest reaches of the trees. The remnants of fog still clung to its edges.
There was no marker, no sign of where the fuck I was.
Much like the huge stone wall we had passed through to escape, at the end of the wide path was the second one. A large gatehouse faced the road, a set of closed golden gates set into the front with four soldiers standing sentry either side, black helmets polished to a shine.
Riots of dark flowers grew tall in thick patches along the entire length of the wall, continuing round the curve and out of sight. At the furthest point, the forest butted against the stone, branches brushing against its sides both within and outside the barrier.The wall built straight through them.
Or they had disregarded the defences and started their own invasion.
More black-helmeted guards bobbed along as they patrolled a walkway atop the fortress dotted with huge braziers of fire marking every tower, flames reaching high like an offering to the gods.
It was what was encircled within that had my mouth hanging open.
Tall spires of dark grey stone reached into the clouds, their tops streaked with swathes of twisted gold. The two materials forged into one under the gleam of the wards flickering in the wakening dawn. Only the top of towers were visible over the wall.Everything else was hidden from view.
A palace. That’s what Kaius had called it. A palace, not a castle.
My expectations of the dungeon I was headed to rose exponentially.
Unlike me, my large guide hadn’t stopped to admire the view and was already a good way ahead. Groaning, I forced myself to catch up, breath clouding into vapour with every exhale while my feet turned painfully numb from the bitterly cold floor.
Each step rattled the jewellery around my hands and feet, and I hugged myself tighter in an attempt to stop the chattering of my teeth. Other than the slight rustle of his long cloak, Marcellus barely made a sound as he moved along the path despite the vast number of weapons attached to him.
“What is this place?” I asked in awe, eyes drinking in every detail they could despite my exhaustion. I wasn’t really expecting an answer as he obviously wasn’t happy with the orders he was following.
Catching up, I followed beside him, my body tired yet I could feel magic buzzing under my skin, flowing through me in a way I had never experienced. It swirled within me, humming as I drew in breaths of air so cold it was almost painful.
Though my magic may be rejoicing, the dull throb in my heart was still there, and I tried again to relieve it, rubbing small circles over the ache. Marcellus glanced down at my movement from under his hood, a frown still stamped over his face. Arching a brow in question, I tried to deny the way my skin heated under his glare; I didn’t need another angry man to contend with.
The hood of his cloak threw shadows, across a face I didn’t want to take my eyes from.
The dark honey tone of his skin was somewhat at odds with the icy blue eyes that were fringed in dark lashes. His broad jaw was covered in a dusting of black stubble interrupted by the four pink, jagged scars that ran down his face and disappeared down his neck. I could only guess his hair was the same colour.
His lips were a soft rose colour, wide and plump carved into rugged features that made him look as though he had been chiselled from stone. It suited his massive frame well.
Bit of a waste keeping your hood up when you have a face like that.
He only glared harder the longer I looked at him, eyes narrowing before looking ahead along the road. I turned forward, too, realising how far I still had to walk, the road looping to make it longer than necessary.
If I pretended to pass out, would he carry me the rest of the way?
I thought better of it, after a cautionary glance at his angry face told me he’d likely leave me on the floor.
“Can’t we just, you know, cut across?” I gestured to the much quicker way we could take if we simply walked over the grass instead of following the winding road of the cold cobbles. Another glare put a stop to that idea, and I resigned myself to the trek.
I tried again. “What’s going to happen once we get in there?” Usually, I wasn’t one for pestering large, angry people but any information I could get would be a bonus and asking questions stopped me from focussing on the pain shooting up my legs with each step.
“Will I be thrown in a dungeon and chained up?”
Nothing.
Every step closer to the palace revealed another inch of impossibly beautiful stone walls, each enormous block glittering in the sun’s rays, and I wondered what horror its beauty masked within.
Just because it’s pretty doesn’t mean it isn’t full of monsters.
“Someone needs to explain all this because I have no fucking clue what’s going on,” I ground out in frustration. Were those crickets I heard? Because it certainly wasn’t an explanation.
“If I punch you in the face like I punched Big Man back there, will that get your attention? You’re tall, but I’ll jump if I have to.” He turned then, a brow quirking up, and I realised I’d threatened to punch this beast of a man; I wasn’t going to take it back, though.
“You punched Bastian in the face?” His voice was a deep baritone that rumbled as though it came from the depths of the volcano itself.
“Is Bastian the big angry one wearing a mask?” I managed to reply, surprised words had actually left his mouth. And mine for that matter.
“He is.”
“Then yes, I did.” The laughter that rumbled through his chest was a wakening volcano. It wasn’t a joyous sound. The noise sent spikes of fear pulsing through me—I liked it.
Tug.
This was becoming inconvenient. And concerning.
“You will be taken somewhere to rest,” he finally offered, and I swallowed thickly.
Resting was good, I would rest my ass off until I could figure out what the fuck was going on.
And how I could make myself not be a part of whatever that was.
“Thanks for all that info, Tiny,” I murmured, and his answering scowl had my already messed up heart missing a beat. Tremors of cold were beginning to wrack my body, and I was close to asking him to carry me for a share of body heat.
Glancing behind, I noted we were alone. “No guards?”
“I don’t need guards.”
Fair point.
Marcellus towered next to me, his long, dark cloak brushing the tops of his laced boots, the hood still pulled up around his face. The symbols twisted and swirled together out of my vision, stopping the second I focused on them.
They whispered to me in an unfamiliar language that tickled the edges of my memory, teasing me with images bathed in golden light that flashed through my mind in a short burst. Quicker than I could grasp them they slipped away, my mind clearing as a sense of calm followed.
That hadn’t been like my dreams, or like my nightmares. That had felt safe and familiar.
I must have stopped because Marcellus’ massive form was several feet ahead. Either he hadn’t noticed I’d stopped, or he just didn’t care. I watched his cloak sway lazily behind him, wondering what the hell it had just done to me before realising I was supposed to be walking with him.
For captors, these people were being seriously lax with my security.
I glanced around then at the nothingness surrounding me. There wasn’t exactly anywhere I could run to.
Marcellus was almost at the golden gates, the metal swirling into the neat, refined shapes of flames, and I quickened my pace to keep up. The soldier's standing guard snapped to attention, racing forward to open the gates before he had even reached them, heads bowed as Marcellus strode through without pause. Wincing at the reluctance in my muscles from that small amount of exertion, I asked the gods for at least the comfort of a soft bed to sleep on.
I doubt they’re listening.
While this wall wasn’t as tall as the first, it was still made from huge slabs of pale grey stone that glistened with veins of quartz, and this close up, I could make out the red marble that twined throughout.
If what I saw from outside the wall had been impressive, then there were no adequate words to describe what was before me now.
The smoke coloured palace stood stark against the brightening sky, ornate mouldings adorned every surface in intricate patterns that I was sure would tell a story if I got close enough to them. Countless turrets that punched up towards the clouds, shining in the sun’s rays that bathed its many columns as they competed to see who would touch them first.Seemingly endless windows rose seven stories high, elaborate swirls of gold framing them, their panes lined with black diamonds.
It was the type of place you saw in the fairy tales that children were read by their parents before being tucked in at night.
I wanted to stop and have time to take in the extravagant display before me, but I was already risking hypothermia with my minimal layers as it was.
Standing in another courtyard, this one bigger than the other, The larger cobblestones made way for smaller, smooth pebbles blanketing the ground like a sea of black pearls, their shimmer an oil slick of rainbow iridescence. Shining like little beacons that had my eyes jumping from one to the next were circular polished gemstones that I was loath to walk over, even with my bare feet.
The same flowers from outside the walls were growing in large, neat patches along the border of the wide pebbled path we walked down, leading towards an equally wide set of stone steps. The closer we walked, the more gemstones were interspersed with the black ones, and I could feel their pull with every step.
A second path crossed the first, and where they met was a huge fountain. Sat in the centre, its base shaped into a raised stone bowl and carved with overlapping tongues of flames. Rising from within were a group of women sculpted from obsidian, each one individual to the other woven in a tangle of limbs that made it difficult to work out how many there were. Water burbled gently down through the centre of their tryst, trickling onto their faces and bodies before splashing down into the waiting bowl at their feet.
We reached the fountain, and I peered inside. Ripples distorted the crystal-clear water, though I could still see the shiny coins of varying sizes that had sunk to the bottom. A small gasp fell past my lips as I realised this was a wishing fountain, every single coin tossed into its waters having been someone’s hopes and dreams.
It was something I had done myself countless times in the pool nestled in the woods back home. It was something people had been doing since the beginning of time, offering our treasures to the water in the hope of a wish granted.
I found myself hoping that all these unknown patrons had gotten theirs; this felt like a good place to ask even if they hadn’t.
Despite the frigid temperature and risk of death by frozen limbs, I pulled up one of my sleeves, holding my hand under the spray and letting the cold water splash onto my hand. It ran down my arm, soaking the fabric bunched around my elbow and part of me hoped it would annoy Big Man if I got his jumper wet. I would have thrown in my own coin if I’d had one.
A sliver of the exhaustion that had been weighing me down lightened as the water ran over my hand. I wasn’t sure how long I had been standing there with my sleeve growing steadily wetter when the thud of boots broke through the splash of the fountain. My giant guide stopped for once, watching me as I had been watching the fountain. I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face as a contentment completely opposed to my current situation washed over me. That small part of my throbbing heart vibrated with happiness the longer I held my hand up under the water.
“Let’s go.” Something I couldn’t pin down flashed through his blue eyes before he turned away, continuing on. With little choice, I pulled my hand from the cool spray of the fountain, tugging down my wet sleeve and squeezing out the excess water. Despite my now frozen fingers, I found that the ache in my body had lessened as I rushed to keep up. I still needed rest but would probably only sleep for about a week instead of two.
Without looking at me, his hand flicked out and I felt the damp material of my sleeve heat, drying out so it was no longer wet and uncomfortable against my skin. I frowned in confusion at yet another display of magik. He had no reason to help me, and I doubted it was out of the kindness of his heart.
I’d lived my life hiding any trace of my magik from the world, and yet here these people were just throwing it out into the open.
As we crossed the second half of the courtyard, the floor was now filled with the shiny pebbles, and I ached to reach down and brush my fingers against them.
That would probably look really fucking weird.
Standing sentinel at the top of the stone steps were a huge pair of black oak double doors. What I guessed were a coat of arms took up almost their entirety. An enormous carved dragon covering the bottom half, its mouth open to spew out three flames glittering with the gemstones they consisted of. The centre flame, and the largest, was made of diamond and opals. On the left, rubies and garnets shimmered like living flames. The right, amber and padparadscha sapphires, were a sunset made physical, though given their rarity I had no idea how they had found so many. Had it been daylight, the glare from them would have been blinding.
Each facet cut so impeccably, with a skill I could barely comprehend, that my mouth opened slack at the sight.
Carved around the solid frame were etchings I didn’t understand but teased at my mind in the same way Marcellus’ cloak had. I crossed my fingers that no more visions would be pushed into my brain, knowing I didn’t have the mental energy for it, not as I was readying to be introduced to my new dungeon pad.
Another set of huge braziers filled with towering flames were alight on either side of the entrance, throwing off a welcoming heat that I ached to get closer to. Three black-helmeted soldiers wearing shining, gilded breastplates stood beside them, some carrying weapons but others carrying nothing at all. None of them had moved when a crack sounded across the courtyard the moment Marcellus’ foot touched the first step, and the doors slowly began to creep open. Hands rising to cross over their chest they bowed their heads to him as he strode past, paying them no attention.
As the heavy wood swung closed behind us, delicious warmth washed over me, and I shivered slightly as it worked to chase away the chill from outside. Even the grey checkered floor was gloriously warm under my bare feet, and I was grateful for the moment of comfort despite its hard surface and the way they burned a little concerningly at the sudden warmth.
My eyes were wide in wonder for what felt like the hundredth time as I took in inside the palace. Outside of the circumstances of my arrival here, I could still appreciate the beauty I was surrounded by.
The outside theme of grey stone and gold continued within. A cavernous, vaulted ceiling loomed above, its surface painted with a continuous mural of landscape, snowy peaks and erupting volcanoes intersected by windows showing the waiting sky. Below, and set into a circular pit still lined with checkered tiles, a fire burned low. Misshapen lumps of coals glowing like rubies in the ashes.
Past the entry, shining floors swept away beyond the thresholds of doors, archways and corridors, streaks of red marble infusing the dark check in delicate strokes.
A cavernous, vaulted ceiling loomed above, its surface painted with a continuous mural of landscape, snowy peaks and erupting volcanoes intersected by windows showing the waiting sky.
Two grand, black, oak staircases with golden banisters swept up to a large balcony overlooking the space we were standing in. It was still early, the sun not yet risen enough to signal morning, the cavernous room illuminated by the firelight spat from the maws of dragon-shaped sconces mounted on the walls.
Ahead of me, across the hall, was another large set of doors, this time a polished gold that made my magik leap; my fingers ached to touch them. I’d never seen so much gold in all my life.Another dragon was carved into the soft metal, the only gem a ruby the size of my fist embedded for its eye.
Skirting the fiery pit, Marcellus swerved behind one of the staircases towards a door I couldn’t even see from the entrance and pressed it open, leading me down a long corridor, with more smokeless flames lighting our way. Doors lined the corridor at random intervals, but he made no move to go through any of them.
I was unsure of how long we had been walking, turning down corridor after corridor, dragging my feet up and down staircases in a way I was certain was just to disorient me, when the carpet stopped and the doors began to grow sparse, the gap between lights larger with each turn.
There was no way for me to keep track of the journey, what with all the stairs we had climbed. Whole sections were now bathed in gloom, and I could feel my anxiety rising, heart rate quickening as I was certain we were now headed towards the dungeons. Each step became heavier than the last as I felt the walls of a prison I had not yet seen closing in on me the deeper I followed this man.
As long as there’s a bed. And food and water, I can work with that.
Besides, after the initial kidnap, no one’s harmed me in any way. In fact, I’m the one who’s punched one of them . I cringed at the thought—that may not have been the best idea, but it’s done now, and he did deserve it.
We stopped outside a nondescript door, exactly like the countless others, and my breath hitched in response. My heart pounding so hard I could hear the rush of blood in my ears as my world shrunk to the exact size and shape of the pale grey wood in front of me.
It doesn’t look much like a dungeon… but what do I know?
What was waiting for me behind this door? The roar of my blood matched the beat of an angry drum, unease swirling in my stomach as I faced this battle, preparing to willingly walk into this cage. The notion that there was no way to fight my way out of this was a bitter pill to swallow.
Marcellus’ eyes narrowed slightly as he took me in, then reached past me to touch his finger against the door. It swung open and he stepped back, allowing me space to go inside.
It would be easier—so much easier—if I had been thrown in kicking and screaming. It took everything in me to force myself to take that first step forward into this new, albeit temporary, home.