Chapter 29 Caspia #2
Emery was a swift in my vision. I hadn’t thought much about it until now. Was that why she’d been killed? Because she was a crux?
“I promise to rest later.” I touched my fingertips to his forehead.
He loosed another sigh, then took my hand, leading me down a series of passages.
“You’re quite familiar with the castle,” I said.
“When I was a boy, I was tutored here with a class of other noblemen’s children.
I learned to read and write in the library, and I was instructed by the castle’s weapons master in the training center.
” He turned another corner, and we emerged into a grand foyer with ceilings nearly twice as tall as the last lobby.
People crowded the vast space, voices and laughter creating a dull murmur.
Three women, each dressed in a bright gown, climbed the base of a sweeping staircase.
Guards dressed in teal coats with gold buttons, wearing swords and knives sheathed at their belts, stood watch beside columns and pillars.
A brawny man with brown skin and wire-framed eyeglasses passed in front of us.
When he spotted Andreas, he looked twice and came to an abrupt stop.
Andreas did not.
He ignored the attention, the curious looks and quiet whispers, keeping his chin held high and his grip on my hand unyielding as we marched through the foyer. His hold on my fingers only loosened when we turned down yet another hall.
“The man with the eyeglasses recognized you,” I said when I was certain we were alone.
“Yes. He is a workfellow of my father’s.”
“You didn’t want to speak to him?”
“Not today.” He stroked my knuckle with his thumb. “I want to show you the library. Then we’ll return home. There will be time to make pleasantries with old acquaintances another day.”
“What exactly does your father do?”
Andreas’s jaw flexed. “He spends coin that is not his to spend.”
Before I could ask for more of an explanation, we approached a pair of gilded doors with inlaid swirled carvings.
Two guards stood before the doors, barring the entrance.
Andreas walked to them, and with a single nod, they shifted out of the way. One opened a door for us to enter, bowing as he murmured, “My lord.”
Was that Andreas’s title? He was a lord? When my head stopped spinning, I’d have to ask more about Quentin politics and how his family fit into the scheme.
But once we stepped into the library, all thoughts faded away as I took in the enormous, round atrium bordered by shelf upon shelf. Three floors filled with countless books.
Andreas had told me this library had more books than a person could read in two lifetimes. I’d wager all the elfalter in the world it would take me three to comb through this many tomes.
It was nearly as vast as the palace library in Showe.
Past the entrance were tables and chairs arranged in neat rows, all unoccupied. Beyond them, the shelves formed columns and stacks that stretched so far I couldn’t see the end of the room.
“There are so many,” I murmured. “Where do I even start?”
“The bibliosophs will help narrow your search.”
I didn’t understand that word, but as Andreas led me toward a desk, I assumed he meant the scholars or curators of this collection.
“Why is no one here?” I asked as we weaved past empty tables, inhaling the scents of sage and paper and cinnamon.
“You need to be granted permission to use this library. The king hoards books the way he does gold.”
“Why?” I asked.
Andreas sighed. “I don’t know. Under his rule, Quentis has become a wealthy kingdom. But King Cross has many secrets. He is a stern, stubborn man who associates less and less with his people. It’s fueled rumors about what he’s hiding in this castle.”
A chill skated down my spine.
A guard stood on the second-floor mezzanine, staring at us with an unreadable expression.
“Why were you given permission?” I asked.
“My former tutor is now the head bibliosoph. He’s the one who taught me the old language.
I wrote him a message yesterday when we arrived, asking for permission.
It is his to grant.” Andreas gave me an encouraging smile.
“He will help us. If there is any information about Nelfinex or the Starling in this library, we’ll find it. ”
By the grace of the Divine.
When we reached the desk, Andreas knocked on its top with his knuckles.
Beside it on the floor was a stack of three empty crates.
Andreas touched one with the tip of his boot. “During a migration a few generations ago, the crux got into the library and destroyed many of our books. Now, the most important tomes are stored belowground. The bibliosophs keep a catalog and can bring them up as needed.”
A moment later, a short man with long, gray hair and a beard that stretched all the way to his navel emerged from behind a shelf, his arms laden with books.
He was dressed in cream linen pants and a matching tunic. Over his shoulders, he wore a teal scapular cinched at the waist with a matching cord. He had a convex nose, and upon seeing Andreas, his green eyes with their Quentin amber starbursts brightened.
“Oh, Andreas.” The man rushed to set down his books, then rounded the corner of the desk, pulling Andreas into a tight hug. “You’ve returned. Oda, bless us.”
“Hello, Faxon.” Andreas clapped the older man on the back.
“I’ve missed you, boy.” Faxon leaned away, taking in Andreas, head to toe. “You look well.”
“I am well.” Andreas put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “This is Caspia.”
Faxon’s eyes widened for a brief moment before he bent at the waist in a bow. “My lady. A pleasure to meet you.”
“And you.” It felt like another lifetime that I’d been given a bow and formal title. Not that I’d ever been called “my lady” before.
Faxon straightened, giving Andreas another once-over. “Have you spoken to your father yet?”
“No.”
“You cannot avoid him forever, Andreas.”
Andreas nodded. “We’ll talk eventually. But not today.”
“All right.” Faxon’s eyes flicked my way. “Your missive mentioned a project. How can I be of help?”
“Caspia is looking for information about her heritage.” Andreas bent, lowering his voice. “I will ask for your secrecy in this. And your trust, old friend.”
Faxon gave Andreas a curious look before focusing on me. On my golden eyes. He seemed to notice them for the first time, but he didn’t appear to be wary. There was more curiosity in his expression. “You have my silence. Whatever we discuss will be between us.”
“Thank you.” Andreas bowed. “Please give Caspia whatever she desires. And I have one last request. We’ve taken in a boy from Ozarth. He needs tutoring. He’s an orphan, and I don’t believe he’s ever been taught to read or write. I’ll warn you, though. He is…strong-willed.”
“Ah.” Faxon chuckled. “I had a student like that once.”
Andreas smiled. “Kos will put me to shame.”
“Then I look forward to the challenge. Give me two days to make arrangements. I’ll tutor him myself.”
“Thank you, Faxon.”
“Welcome home, boy.” Faxon’s green eyes softened as he stared up at Andreas. There was pride in his expression. Love. “It’s good to see you safe. When so much time passed, I was worried that you’d been taken to the shades.”
“Not yet. And with Daria’s luck, that won’t be for some time.”
Daria. One of the Six. The Goddess of Luck.
Andreas didn’t mention his gods often, but one moon aboard the Snail, as he was staring into the stars, he told me about Ama and Oda. About how the Mother and Father were the stars and their children, the Six, made up the shades in between.
Faxon signed the Eight, then gave Andreas another firm hug. Then he bid us farewell as Andreas and I left the library.
We didn’t dally in the foyer as we weaved through the crush and made our way outside. Beyond the castle’s sweeping entrance and massive doors was a wide stone path. With my hand in his, Andreas led me to the castle’s gates.
Once we were outside the wall, Andreas seemed to breathe easier, his hold on my hand relaxed, and his pace slowed.
We walked past homes and shops, making our way toward Andreas’s house.
“I don’t like the castle,” he said. “I avoid it whenever possible.”
“Why? Because of your estrangement with your father?”
“No. Because of what it represents. You saw all the gold. How much of the gold used for ornaments and embellishments could have gone to rebuilding after the last migration?”
I was still learning the value of Calandran wealth, but I agreed with his point.
“It’s not just the gaudy decoration. I hate that castle for what it did to my brother. You asked me once if Arick and I got along.”
And he’d given me a definitive nelvi’o.
“We used to. He’s two years younger, but that age difference never mattered.
For most of our childhood, we were inseparable.
We were tutored together. Learned from the same weapons master.
Had riding lessons every day until we were thirteen.
We spent too many nights at taverns, drinking ale and chasing women.
He was my best friend. Until he died a year ago. ”
A year ago, when he’d left Quentis. “I’m so sorry.”
“So am I.” He gave me a sad smile. “During the last migration, my mother’s family was killed.
They lived in Saltmore. It’s a city on the other side of Quentis.
We traveled for the funeral. My brother and I chose to ride our horses rather than in my mother’s carriage.
On the journey, Arick’s horse was spooked by a snake.
He would have been thrown, but his boot got caught in the stirrup.
He was dragged, and by the time I caught up to stop his horse, his leg was shattered. ”
“Andreas,” I gasped, staring up at him, my heart aching at the pain on his face.
“He survived. Though that’s up for interpretation. Arick was never the same again. He spent months and months in bed, in agony. The healers gave him korakin to numb the pain.”
“What is korakin?”
“It is the dung of kaverines.”
“I don’t know that creature.”
“It’s a monster. Smaller than some. Similar to a wolverine but twice as ferocious. They live in the deserts in Laine.”
Kaverines sounded like the giant weasels in Beesa.
“I’ll sketch one for you,” he said. “Healers and alchemists will take their dung and boil it into a mush. Then it’s reduced to a paste.
When it’s ingested, it will numb any pain.
Usually the person who takes it will hallucinate.
But it is often used in infirmaries for people who need a surgery or amputation.
It works well. Except it’s highly addictive. ”
We didn’t have korakin in Nelfinex, but there were powders and potions that would ensnare people until they craved their next dose more than food or water. “Arick became addicted.”
“It ruled his life,” Andreas said. “He learned to walk again, though he required a cane and brace. But it took years of him working with a healer to get to that point. Whenever Arick complained of pain, the healer’s answer was more korakin.
The healer exploited my brother’s addiction, gladly taking coin whenever Arick begged for more.
Until finally, I intervened and sent the healer to the other side of Quentis, paying him never to return.
Except by then, it was too late. My brother was resourceful.
And that castle is crawling with people who have no qualms about the harm they do if it means a purse full of gold. ”
Andreas cast a glare over his shoulder to the spires that loomed above us. They gleamed even beneath a cloud-covered sky.
The palace in Showe was built for the same function. A stronghold for the Starling. A shelter for Nestlings. A home for Quiescents. A place to safeguard knowledge and history.
Yet it wasn’t meant to cast such a stark dividing line between the powerful and powerless.
The stone wall around this castle’s grounds was a clear boundary for those who were welcome and those who were not. As were its golden gates.
“My parents turned a blind eye,” Andreas continued. “They refused to believe Arick had a problem. They never questioned why he was always short on coin or why he never missed a party or ball at the castle. They made excuses when he was passed out in his bed for days and days on end.”
“It’s why you’re estranged from your father.”
“I begged him to do something before it was too late. But he wouldn’t listen. And then a year ago, Arick was at a party. He was drunk and out of his mind on korakin. He collapsed and fell down a flight of stairs. He broke his neck.”
“I’m sorry.” I hugged his arm, holding tight as we kept walking.
“Even after Arick’s funeral, my father refused to admit it was the korakin. He said Arick’s cane broke. That’s why he fell. I couldn’t stay and listen to the excuses. So I left.”
“And went to Genesis.”
“It was worth it. Giving up everything for a time.” He stopped walking to face me, brushing a lock of curls away from my temple. “It was worth it to find you.”
I leaned into his touch, and for a heartbeat, everything in my life made sense. I was here, in Calandra, for Andreas.
But then the next heartbeat came and my world pitched sideways.
A thrum vibrated through my body, spreading from my heart to my hands and feet. A thrum I hadn’t felt since the Cirrina.
The thrum of the ritus.
As Andreas bent to kiss my mouth, I closed my eyes and pretended I did not feel its pull.