Chapter Twenty-Three- Binds that Break
Our ravens descend from the sky and land on our shoulders as we hurry through the main courtyard of the palace. I can’t help but think of the way people view ravens as cursed. It makes me think about how there’s no better word to describe Thorne and I as his pinky grazes mine. Cursed.
The palace is quiet as all of the soldiers once stationed here have gone to Titan’s Rest along with Aleksander and Julius.
Asterin and her entourage of lady’s maids are gone, and the King either remains in mourning or is in the strategy room.
Who cares? The servants amble on, worried about their loved ones fighting a war that I started.
We find Reese exactly where we told him to meet us, on the third floor of the library in the Arcanist History section.
“Did you get it?” Thorne stalks up to him and asks.
I scan Reese’s body for any evidence of our previous encounter, but he appears to have recovered.
He tells Thorne all about how his familiar, a weasel named Winslow, was able to secure the key.
Said weasel appears in Reese’s hand and drops the key from its mouth into Thorne’s palm.
Thorne scratches the weasel’s head in thanks and Reese makes the rodent disappear.
“Where’s Elmerov?” I think to ask Reese.
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him,” he shakes his head then turns to Thorne. “Two hours,” Reese nods and disappears into the library.
I turn to Thorne in confusion.
“Two hours for what?” I ask him cautiously.
“Two hours until the Black Lanterns let every damned rebel into the palace for the purging,” Thorne looks at me hesitantly as if I would object.
“You’re going to let them kill everyone here?”
“Reese knows who to keep safe.” He knots his hands together. “The war at Titan’s Rest combined with what we’re about to do is going to be the perfect distraction for King Dreven,” Thorne explains. He nods as if confirming these facts for himself.
I squeeze his shoulder to show him that I’m with him all the way. “Until they all burn.”
Purging Netherhelm of every wretched greedy noble is the only way to start fresh, to ensure everyone lives in harmony in accordance with Xeusis’s teachings.
I follow Thorne down, down, down into the bowels of the library until ornate cherry wood stairs turn to stone.
Until the smell of books is replaced by something earthy and cold.
A chill floats over my neck and down my spine as we pass a door to an antechamber with something very large and mad on the other side. It huffs and growls as we pass.
“Hexrath Behemoth,” Thorne says by way of explanation.
Hexrath Behemoths are six-headed tigers the size of mammoths. An abomination that was the result of an experiment that went wrong. I shudder, not wanting to know why they have one in captivity.
“To my knowledge, there are only six antechambers down here. Obviously, I’m wrong, but it means we’re most likely going to have to go down further, through the fifth door.
It’s the only one with a staircase.” He drags his fingers absently over stone and wood panelling.
Our boots kick pebbles down the damp corridor.
“What else is in the fifth antechamber?” I grip my sword as the fifth door rattles on its hinges.
“A Marrow Drake,” he gives me a nervous smile.
“For fuck’s sake Thorne!” I scrub my face. Marrow Drakes earned their name because they crave the marrow in our very bones. “They should have been hunted to extinction!” I exclaim.
“It’s not my collection! Aleksander put these creatures down here! The antechambers were meant for ancient texts, not deadly beasts!” He throws his hands up in exasperation.
I pull my sword from the belt and take in the small amount of space we have to deal with this.
“No experimenting with ice, I need your shadow-work,” I tell him.
“Yeah, yeah,” he lets me see the shadows moving through his eyes and swings the door open.
The beast rears up on its back legs and blows steam from its nose.
It’s taller than us when it stands, with raging claws.
Its scales are dark brown, it has large gashes all over it, and it smells like it’s already dying.
I twirl my sword and advance on the thing but it chortles and backs away, shaking. My heart squeezes. What the…
“I guess I’m not the only one Aleksander tortures for fun.” Thorne’s eyes are wide and brimmed with tears at the way the Drake is cowering. I can see it debating if it’s worth it to push past us. But the creature is small for its species and it seems to be more scared of us than we are of it.
“Hey…” Thorne whispers and extends a gloved hand in its direction. The beast has its eyes screwed closed but opens one slightly to see Thorne’s hand.
I see recognition pass between them and I step back to give them a moment to see and be seen. How beautiful it must be to be understood. Then the most amazing thing happens: it pushes its snout into Thorne’s palm. They seem to sigh at the same time and smile tugs at the edges of my mouth.
He murmurs something comforting to the animal and motions for me to move behind him and to the stairs.
“Go, be free,” he says. “Veylith,” he snaps and the Marrow Drake is gone.
“Where did he go?” I ask.
“Wherever he thinks of as ‘home’,” Thorne explains and descends the stairs behind me.
The door that meets us, sure enough, has two key holes.
It seems that one keyhole matches the door we just came through, and then, of course, is the King’s key.
This door, unlike the other wooden ones, appears to be made of sleek crystal, except for the metal locking mechanisms. It hums with energy, warning us not to enter in such a way that makes me nauseous.
I guide Thorne’s shaking hand to the lock and the key clicks as we turn it. The door swings open, welcoming us despite its previous warning. As if it knows that Thorne is here.
Thorne gasps. The Titan’s Kyanite rises high above us from a pedestal it’s placed on.
The gorgeous black stone is iridescent, almost see-through, and swirling with black and ice magic.
It is the essence of Thorne, the magic robbed from him.
The room is just a massive arched antechamber meant to house this.
The magic here does not allow for even the smallest insect, not one spiderweb exists in the space.
No snakes swim in the water surrounding the pedestal, no fish.
The oddest mix of lifelessness and overwhelming power stills me. But Thorne…
Thorne is on his knees and I watch the magic in the seven foot tall pillar reach for him. His nose begins to bleed, his own atoms reaching back for it.
“What did the book say we have to do to break the bind?” I drop to my knees before him. I see now that his eyes are turning milky, that his lips are whispering words. “Thorne!” I slap his cheek.
He doesn’t respond, I can’t get through to him. I look around the antechamber frantically as Thorne drifts further from me, as he becomes unreachable. I’m useless as I shake him, as I scream his name, but his eyes just roll back in his head.
“Thorne!” I bellow again as I dig my nails into the stone beneath us.