22. Chace #2
“A little light walking and lifting, nothing strenuous to start. Followed by an easy puzzle or two to fire up the old brain cells.”
“Don’t push him too hard,” I ordered.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Aoes replied.
With a nod of thanks and a mild sense of order concerning Aldine, I took to the citadel. Just another day attempting to complete the assigned task. A task that, so far, we’d failed to accomplish.
Last night, when I had read a new passage in Chiara’s journal—one of the final entries, actually—I’d learned that she too had been assigned a reap in the Citadel of Veritas.
Her entry read unclear regarding the precise target and whether she had succeeded or failed, but the person had been someone of stature.
After that passage, her entries had ceased, only to be followed by a small map and a handful of letters tacked at the back. One from her, and two from Valen—likely the same individual Raven’s father suggested we find.
If my suspicions held true, maybe today’s visit would gain us all some headway in this dung of a reaper task.
I silently thanked the God of Death for Raven’s temporary absence. Whether she slept in or avoided me, it didn’t necessarily matter. I preferred to handle what came next alone. The venture would require tact, a quality Raven sometimes lacked.
Thanks to Chiara’s diary and the small map, I’d memorized the course to the destination that so far had eluded us.
I blamed interfering magic for confusing my senses when I’d gotten close to my desired destination and for hampering my ability to find the castle entrance.
This time, while trekking the path, I mentally repeated a mantra scribbled in Chiara’s journal.
I am one with my desire, and magic shall not keep me from my destination.
I rubbed my temples against a dull thrum and weaved through the streets of the citadel. Despite my usual order, I’d somehow misplaced my pills and missed my regular dose the previous day. I began to think some sort of withdrawal caused my slow-blooming headache.
I walked the uphill climb toward the citadel’s center, following the surrounding labyrinth of streets straight to the front gate of the palace’s sky-high walls and the awaiting sentries.
Several times during my walk, my mind tried to veer me in a different direction, but I stayed the course and found the castle entrance.
So…yep. Magical interference was a definite factor, hindering our earlier attempts.
I came to a stop in front of the guardsmen and pressed a hand to my chest. “Chace Badden, requesting an audience with Her Majesty.”
I stood in the royal audience hall. The guards at the front gate had initially tried to turn me away, but with a little persuading and name-dropping, they dispatched a message to the palace. The wait stretched long, dull, and somewhat torturous, but I’d attained the desired result eventually.
They’d escorted me beyond the gate, over the bridge, and inside the palace, to where I now stood before a tall, overly gilded and opulent royal seat designed to intimidate. The dais upon which the chair sat served as additional support to the show of power…or its illusion.
I balanced on the edge of uncertainty as to which rang true. How much power did a royal family possess in a citadel that remained both cursed and closed off to the rest of the world?
Guards lined the crisp, clean room, brightened by high-set, crystal-cut windows and fortified with a solid stone wall positioned behind the throne. The likelihood of a surprise attack blasting into the space could be considered highly improbable.
Safe and paranoid, I thought.
But then, I supposed, all members of any royal family had many reasons to be paranoid.
The regal matron upon the throne sat straight and held her head high, the tips of her ears reaching the base of her crown. A gown of majestic blue spilled out around her.
“You think name-dropping will gain you my ear? Do not waste my time.”
It got me through the front gate, didn’t it? I held the smirk from touching my lips.
The fae female’s appearance marked her as the family matriarch, as judged by the lines upon her face and the white of her hair, untouched by any color found in the spectrum. The circle of gold upon her head only added credence to her authority to rule.
“Your name may have gained you an audience, but it does nothing to secure my patience or goodwill.” Harsh snips of irritation hardened her delivery.
“Apologies, Your Majesty.” I bowed low. Waited. Counted the seconds for my appeasing tactics to work.
A soft grumble from the queen reached my ears. “You may rise.”
I rose straight and tall with my shoulders back, and she motioned me to speak.
Inhaling a fortifying breath, I clasped my hands at my back.
“It has come to my attention that a relative of mine visited your palace around the time the curse fell upon your grand citadel. She never returned home, and I was hoping you might be able to enlighten me as to what happened here and where she might be.”
The queen’s face reddened, and her gaze hardened. “I am a queen, not some librarian to poke for information.”