CHAPTER 26 #2
As we walk inside the palace through what seems like a secret door, the pearly-white walls almost blind me.
The golden patterns marked along the floor and ceiling twist and swirl like a blazing fire, mixing in with dragons soaring across both land and sky.
Marble statues of the horses sit on top of hovering tables against the wall.
“This way.” He gestures with his head and I follow, even if my eyes stay glued to the details of the castle.
Guards stand at attention beside the arch doorway that is marked with dragons twisting around the edges, meeting at the top where they both have their mouths open, as if they are to breathe fire.
The door shimmers like scales as the guards open it, and there stands Queen Antivianna, gowned in a heart-shaped, charcoal-black dress that billows out once the seams reach the waist. The details of scales are wrapped around her torso, and the fabric that reaches to the floor looks as if it was scorched by fire.
“Welcome.” Her arms widen. “Please, come have a seat. Octavian will fetch the book that might help us understand the stones. If anyone can find what this means, it's him or the oracles.” She flicks her hand in the air before resting it on her forehead. “I might have to take you to the Darklands.”
“That doesn’t sound fun.” I tuck a loose strand behind my ear. “I think I’ll pass on that.”
Her brows lift in surprise by my reaction, which makes me curious if anyone has ever told her no before.
They don’t own me.
Even if they believe they do.
Octavian strides towards an open room filled with books from the floor to the ceiling.
In the middle of the room—hovering in the center—beams five stones, and my heart flutters.
There is a blue, raging fire wall with flames blasting around the stones, reaching the very top of the room and to the bottom.
Closing them in like a prison. The stones, the exact ones I saw in Alaska, yet these are smaller.
I could hold them in the palms of my hands.
The stones in my arms sizzle the more I walk towards them. A soft glow beams from them and I catch sight of it, noticing it before the Queen does, and back away. I don’t trust the damn Queen.
Whatever these stones are, I will hide any knowledge I have of them from her. I might be able to use this to my advantage.
“Find the one about the stones of the Realms, let's see if there is any insight to why she would be cursed with this. The Gods must have written about this.” The Queen barks at Octavian, who climbs a ladder, his fingers brushing along the sides, feeling to read.
He reaches towards one of the higher bookshelves.
All I want to do is run towards the stones.
Maybe if I touch them, I can leave the Realm and be back home.
“Have a seat.” She gestures for me to sit on the velvet, red couch that arches almost around the whole room. A clear table is in the middle, looking like it's made out of glass with wings holding the surface.
I force a smile, sitting down on the firm cushions as she does the same.
“May I touch the stones?” she asks gently.
“You can try,” I whisper, knowing if she touches me, she might turn to ash and truthfully, I wouldn’t mind. “Try not to burn.”
“Very funny.” Her brows lift. “As Queen, I shouldn’t burn.”
Her delicate hand hovers over the stones, but the closer she gets towards them, her skin begins to turn a deep red as if hot heat is burning her flesh. She flinches, snapping her hand away and holding it against her chest.
“Interesting.” She twists her hands, snapping at a guard who stands by the door.
“You are telling me.” My facial expressions remain emotionless, bouncing my leg as my body feels called to touch the stones that hover just a few steps away from me in the other room.
“Your majesty, the book.” Octavian hands her a thick, leather book with burnt markings along the edges like someone tried to burn it. “Let me know if you need me.”
“Thank you.” She grabs it, resting it on the glass table and rapidly tossing pages. If she goes any faster, she might rip them.
Octavian strides to the door, moving to stand bedside one guard as the other brings in a cool towel for the Queen.
She grabs it, holding it firmly against her burnt hand as she reads pages in the book.
Moans and groans escape her lips as her eyes frantically scan.
She lets out a few nods here and there, and a sigh.
But her brows deepen, not quite understanding what she is reading.
“I don’t understand!” She slams the book on the table.
“The answers should have been in here, this book fell from the scorching moon that night. I know it was from the Gods! Octavian, are you sure this is it? There are words missing, ash still present against the missing pages when I know we have cleaned the books! Has anyone been in my damn archive!” she screams, her once pale face turning a bright, cherry red.
“No one has entered without permission.” A guard clears his throat.
Octavian nods, standing in formation. “Your majesty, this is the correct book. Written by the God of Fire himself.”
Her trembling hands push against her head. “I think I need to take you to the oracles myself.”
I lean forward, watching her hands fall over her face. “Why do you put so much trust in them?”
“Because they have been around longer than any of us. They hold the future in their eyes. You are no Royal, so why are you cursed with this? We need to know what this is and what this means!” She stands, throwing the towel against the ground with aggravation. “Fetch my horses. We are going!”
She leaves the scorched book open, and I catch sight of a few torn pages from where she was reading, as well as a few blank paragraphs. It’s as if the author of the book, the Gods, purposely hid some of the words.
I shift my fingers over it, delicately hovering inches away from it as my hand is being pulled towards it.
A soft light begins to beam from the book, words gradually reappearing along the papers.
I hitch a breath, my eyes widening while the words retype along the pages with a soft golden light flickering as they are being written.
The sound of metal scraping along the cobblestone floor makes me flinch, and I snap my hand back towards my chest. Once I glance over towards the open book, the words are gone. The pages are lifeless.
What the actual hell was that?
I grip my hand tightly, holding it against my chest as my heart slams against it.
The guards grunt, nodding as they leave, and Octavian follows behind. “I’ll be right back.”
The Queen rises, striding with a fierce determination towards the door. As if this is what she has been wanting all along.
“Do I have a say in this?” I rise to my feet. “What if I don’t want to see the oracles?”
She pauses at the door, looking over her shoulder. “You want to find your sister?”
My nostrils flare, rage tickling at my fingertips. “More than anything.”
“Then you will do this. They might be able to see where she is at this very moment and what her next move is.”
“Are you certain it is my sister you found?” I stumble forward, my eyes widening with the desperate hope I have been clinging on to.
She nods. “I told you. I was going to find her.” She inhales deeply as her eyes drop to the ground, avoiding my gaze.
“But you might not be fond of what you will see.”
She leaves before I can ask another question.
My lips tighten, rubbing my forehead as I spin on my heels with frustration. “What the hell does this even mean?” I grunt.
But as I turn, the stones hum, beckoning me towards them.
They pulse like a heartbeat, hovering over the ground like planets in a solar system.
This might be my chance, just to see what they do.
I catch sight of the Light Stone to the far left, first in line.
I know Florian said I needed the pendant he wears to travel, or the blood of a Deskyiara.
But I am not a Deskyiara.
I am not.
But something inside me is telling me, whispering in my mind like a broken record player, to take the dagger at my hip and slice my palm. So I obey. I listen.
I give into it.
I rip out my dagger, holding the air inside my cheeks as the blade slices through my palm, and I hold in the wince that wants to escape my lips. With a shaky breath, I release the air and squeeze my palm so the blood won’t drip on the floor.
I’m not a Deskyiara.
With a swift glance, I gaze at the book once more, studying every inch and detail that it is marked with.
The onyx leather, scorched around the edges with a lingering scent of ash radiating off of it.
The pages, shimmering like a golden sunset, and the ink of the words that can be seen, dark as the night.
I vaguely remember the symbol of the wings and round circles on the cover, the same symbols as the ones I remember of the village, the bridge, and the pendant Florian wears. It must mean something.
I’m coming back for this damn book.
My chest feels as if it's being tugged by something and the closer I step towards the stones, the more my arm feels scorching heat against it.
But despite it, I move forward. My boots beat against the shiny floor before taking a few steps up to the level of the archive that is inside her room.
I swear the books reach the heavens, a small window at the top letting the light of the sun flicker through.
No cobwebs here, so the books must be read quite a bit compared to the ones in my room.
My arm flinches with a sudden sharp pain that begins to heat against my flesh, and the stones radiate the colors so brightly now against me. The stones before me begin to pulse brightly with them.
But what stone should I touch?