Chapter Eighteen #2
My muscles, which no longer felt like they were being shredded from the inside out, flexed as I held my hands out in front of me. They were covered in blood from all four prisoners, along with ash and burned bits of… something.
Clenching my fists and relaxing them again, I looked up into her eyes when I responded.
“Powerful.”
Using my zirilium felt… enthralling. Each time was better than the one before. It reminded me of training—how you built up endurance, muscles growing stronger after being used so often. Maybe zirilium was like that—a muscle that needed training.
Now that my abilities were within my control again, I couldn’t have felt any better.
But as I remembered what I held in my coat pocket, I still wanted to try to beat that feeling.
And maybe solving one of my father’s numerous mysteries would do that.
Tugging Father’s journal out of my internal coat pocket, I cracked it open to the page I had folded the corner of. As I flipped through, I tried to do my best not to smear blood over any important bits. I could feel Valenia watching intensely, her curiosity seeming to peak.
“Here,” I said, pointing to the entry labeled prisoner fifty-one. Running the finger with the least amount of blood on it over the page, I searched for the parts I had read before.
It mentioned that this prisoner had been special to Father, but not why. They had never been named, only numbered. To refresh my memory, I slid my eyes over the bottom half of the page.
That was where it noted that the prisoner was held in the tallest tower within the camp walls, held at the very top of the structure.
I slammed the book together suddenly, startling Valenia—who I realized with a start had been peering at the contents of the journal as well.
It was a good thing that she was vowed to me. Otherwise, I’d have to kill her, too.
Though, when the thought didn’t bring me any type of positive emotion, I frowned. I barely knew her—was I already beginning to enjoy her company?
Or did she just remind me of the female I might have let slip through my grasp?
Shaking my head, I looked towards Valenia, who caught my gaze and quickly schooled her face into neutrality—but not before I saw her quizzical expression.
Deciding that I’d have to trust somebody, at least a little, I sighed. At least if I told Valenia, I knew she couldn’t turn against me.
With those thoughts in mind, I decided to risk it.
“This is the late king’s journal,” I explained.
As I stood, my body feeling stronger than ever, I added, “Don’t look inside of it again.”
She nodded, hopping to her feet beside me. As her hair brushed her shoulder when she moved, I couldn’t help but catch the scent of roses.
And I couldn’t deny the spark of desire that lit up, hidden deep within.
“So, where’s the tallest tower?” she asked, heading for the door and reaching for the handle.
“I said—”
“You said don’t look inside again,” she interrupted. “I had already seen that part.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose as I sighed, knowing she had a valid point to argue with.
“Most of the towers are in the eastern part of the camp. We’ll head that way. I don’t want anybody else trying to direct us or to even know what we’re looking for, understand?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice dripping with something I couldn’t quite place.
She tugged the chamber door open as I approached. I lead the way to the doors at the other end of the hall.
Not a single prisoner tried to trip me that time.
Once we were on the other side of the dungeon doors, I noted a bucket which was catching drops of water that dripped down from the ceiling.
Walking over to it, I went to crouch down to wash the blood and bits off my hands. But before I could reach for it, the water moved unnaturally. Then, in a gentle stream, it was lifted out of the bucket.
My head snapped toward Valenia, who now had a hand raised and was directing the water stream through the air toward herself.
I watched as she coated her own hands in the water and stepped toward me, holding her hands out.
“May I?” she asked.
My mind flashed to another time, another moment in time where a female I had cared about did the same thing with water, for the same purpose—to cleanse.
Slowly, I held my hands out toward her, though they shook ever so slightly.
Using her own water-covered hands, she rinsed off the gunk from my skin. As my hands became cleaner, it appeared as though hers were becoming filthier.
Like she was taking my sins upon herself.
“You can trust me, you know,” she offered gently without looking up from her task.
“That’s still being proven,” I said quietly—but there was no venom in my voice. No malice, no defensiveness.
If I was being honest, I wanted nothing more than to trust somebody again.
Yet each time I did, it seemed to come back to bite me.
And I refused to be the mouse.
With that thought alone, the walls I hadn’t realized I’d been lowering went right back up.
I tugged my hands from hers, ignoring the small parts that hadn’t come off, and cleared my throat, ignoring how startled she looked.
“We should go.” I took a step backwards, toward the exit.
Valenia’s expression, which had seemed open just a moment before, was carefully blank again. I watched as she funneled the now dirty water back into the bucket, her own hands just as clean as before.
As we headed up the stairs that lead outside, I couldn’t help but think that maybe sins couldn’t be transferred so easily.
It seemed my sins would be remaining my own, after all.
***
“Step aside.”
Valenia had taken up her position in front of me, as though her smaller frame could hide mine from the gazes of the four guards that stood in front of the tower door.
The moon was to be setting soon, but after leaving the dungeons, we’d wasted no time flying up to the towers within the camp and figuring out which of them was the one we were searching for. So there we stood, so close to solving one of Father’s big mysteries—yet we were being held up by crids.
“Who are you, that we should listen to your orders?” one of them spat—the one with light brown wings.
It appeared that Valenia had been appointed as my Right Hand so recently that the news hadn’t spread to every corner of the North just yet. So until they understood who she was, I’d make sure they made no mistake in disrespecting her.
“She’s my Right Hand,” I said, placing my hand on Valenia’s shoulder as I stepped up to stand to the left of her. “And she will have your respect, soldier.”
All four of the males looked momentarily stunned, but they were well trained. They quickly moved out of the way, allowing us to approach the door.
When Valenia tried the door, though, she found it was locked.
I looked toward the male with the soft brown wings and raised an eyebrow in question.
“The… The late king didn’t allow anybody inside. He said whoever was in there was too dangerous to ever see the full light of the moon again,” he said, avoiding my gaze while he fidgeted anxiously with the keys.
“Are you trying to say that I, as the current King of the North, am not permitted inside? And that if I was, that I would be in danger?”
“No, Your Majesty, I just—”
“Hand me the keys.” I held out my hand.
Within a heartbeat, the keys were in my palm.
The soldier’s eyes widened as he noted the crusted blood on my skin.
Forcing myself not to roll my eyes at him, I tossed Valenia the keys without looking her way. When I heard her catch them and unlock the door, I gazed upon the four males before me.
“Let nobody else inside, ever, besides myself and my Right Hand. Make sure everybody that takes this shift knows it,” I instructed, then followed Valenia into the dark.
Shutting myself and Valenia inside, my eyes adjusted quickly to the near pitch-black interior. Valenia stood on the bottom steps of the stairs—which seemed to be the only thing inside.
I followed the stairs with my eyes, looking up, and up, and up, until I couldn’t see anymore—even with Northern sight. It was one giant staircase within the tower that led up, likely hundreds of feet in the air. But what it would lead to, I wasn’t sure.
There wasn’t enough room to fly up—the tower itself was narrow. The entire thing seemed to be made of the same material the dungeons had been made of—stone inlaid with alychite. I also noted how there were no windows, only small holes every so often to allow for a bit of airflow.
After pushing past Valenia, it took what felt like ages to make it up the spiral staircase, but it gave my body something manual to focus on. And Valenia didn’t complain once, to my surprise. She walked silently behind me, her steps light and her breathing as steady as could be.
Yes, there was definitely more to her than I’d originally thought. She appeared to be well trained.
When we finally made it to the top, we came to a small landing before an ornate metal door, which I could feel the presence of alychite radiating from.
I almost went to knock before Valenia handed me back the keys we’d gotten from the guard.
“Right,” I breathed quietly, selecting the key that seemed the fanciest. Its weight was slightly heavier than the others, and it felt as though its metal had been engraved with swirling patterns, while all the others were plain and smooth.
Sliding the key into the door—a perfect fit—I looked back at Val and instructed her to stay here and be on her guard.
With a simple nod, she took a step back and tilted her head toward the stairs watchfully.
With a deep breath, my heart pounding, I cracked open the door and stepped in to the threshold.
The first thing I noticed was how cold it was inside.
Then I noted how the small heels of my boots seemed to click against a type of metal—as though the floor was made of it.
Oddly enough, though, it seemed like the room was empty.
There were no windows within, either, but there were a small series of holes in the ceiling that showed just a few stars through them.
I imagined if it stormed, not much would come through. Not enough to bother anybody, anyway.
I gasped as a form I hadn’t noticed on the far side of the space shifted, the distinct sound of alychite chains rattling as they moved.
Not empty, after all.
“Who goes there?” I asked, reaching for one of the many blades I kept on me at all times.
The prisoner continued moving until they stood just under the holes in the ceiling, so the dim light of the rising sun shone down on their face.
And at the sight, I stumbled back a step.
I yielded, just for a moment.
The shade of her brown hair was duller than I remembered, and her skin was much paler—even her freckles seemed faded. Her face was gaunt, but it was her eyes that solidified my understanding of why Father had hidden this fae away so thoroughly.
I had seen that exact shade of green before.
Specifically, in my twin’s right eye.
The one thing she’d inherited physically from our…
“Mother?”