Chapter 28
NARYA
“Mouse? Are you in there?”
My voice echoed down the hidden passageway.
Although there was no answer now, the heat from a torch on the wall meant it had been lit not too long ago.
Mouse must have been here recently. I needed to see her.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Daigen’s face before Emerias took me away.
I saw the way his hand shook when he touched the branch, how his skin darkened and his breath changed when the magic surged through him.
And then the way his knees almost buckled before the healers gathered around him, chanting.
He hadn’t just been healing the Bloodstone Tree of Stars. He’d been absorbing its sickness.
I lifted my candle and spoke into the silence again, my shadow swelling against the stone wall.
“I know it’s late, but I brought you something to eat.
” I adjusted the basket on my forearm; the cakes were still warm underneath the cloth.
“They’re called bloodberry cakes. I’m told they’re – they’re delicious. ”
My cheeks still flamed from the way Daigen practically seduced one with his tongue. A tongue that brought me pleasure I hadn’t known existed.
I could barely keep Emerias’ hands off the basket when he escorted me back to the room. He ate two along the way. Apparently they were also his favourite, and he thanked me for thinking of him. Of course, I hadn’t known, but I humoured the Sunstone all the same.
“Would you like some?” I asked, hopeful Mouse could hear me from wherever she was. There was still no answer after several moments. Maybe she was asleep. It was barely even dawn.
My candle flickered as a draft suddenly crept in from my right.
I reached up to light the torch on the wall.
Soft amber light swelled and filled the entire passageway.
There was another section to it I hadn’t noticed the last time.
Just how many secret passageways were there, and where did they all go?
Still holding my candle, I adjusted the basket on my forearm, and ventured forward.
Something told me that Mouse would know what healing the Bloodstone Tree took from him.
And, if I was being truthful with myself, I didn’t want to be alone after what happened in the cavern. I wanted to talk to a friend.
Mouse was the closest thing I had to one.
I still wasn’t sure about Thràena after the cloak incident. Only time would tell if I could trust her the way I hoped to. But Mouse? I had a good feeling about her.
I continued down the passageway. It tapered off into a tight bend that led me up to a flight of stairs, and then another flight, and another.
Each one grew narrower and more claustrophobic.
I was breathless by the time I climbed all four.
With no windows or torches on the walls, it was difficult to see beyond the small halo of light from my candle.
Still I kept going, and the chill steadily deepened.
Not even the sweat I’d worked up from the stairs helped against it.
I was just glad I’d remembered to pull on my cloak before leaving the kitchen.
I tugged it tighter and pushed on through a high wooden archway. The stale air hit me immediately, a mixture of sawdust and damp wood with traces of mildew. I had smelled worse on the farm, so the odour barely affected me.
I stepped through the arch into a large, dimly lit space.
In place of stone, the vaulted ceiling was a network of exposed wooden beams where cobwebs drifted lazily.
Even with the height, the air felt thick, as if a window had never been opened.
There was only one window I could see—huge and circular, built into the main wall.
Through it, the first rays of sunlight bled over the horizon.
Soon the palace would be awake, and the rest of the kingdom with it.
If I wanted to find Mouse, I needed to hurry.
I debated going back to my room and trying again later, but something nudged me forward. A horrible feeling that I was close to finding her and that this might be her bedroom. It wasn’t even fit to be called an attic.
Dark wooden floorboards creaked beneath me as I stepped farther in.
Dust drifted through the light pouring from the window, settling over a tattered mattress on the floor.
Around it stood a few pieces of old, rickety furniture: a side table covered in faded white silk, stacks of dust-coated books, candles burned down to their wicks, a rack of moth-bitten gowns, an empty wash basin and jug.
It was the small collection of wooden children’s toys that made my heart sink deepest.
Mouse had said she was born in the walls and that they were all she’d ever known…
The largest toy was a wooden rocking horse, clearly well loved; there was hardly any fur left.
A child had obviously lived here, but judging by the size of the gowns, they were too big for them.
The sleeping area was abysmal too. The mattress was barely long enough for an infant.
Even the blankets were old and tattered.
Surely this couldn’t be where Mouse slept.
Just as I wondered that, she spoke from behind me.
“What is a bloodberry cake?”
I jumped at the sound of her voice and turned.
In the shadows near the doorway stood a small, very thin figure in a faded blue dress.
The hem reached just above her shins, which, even from across the room, I could see were dirty.
She wore a pair of black leather slippers that were falling apart.
I could not see her face, but when she tilted her head, I caught the outline of her hair cropped close around her ears.
“It’s sort of like a cake and a pastry,” I said, lifting the basket to show her. “There’s plenty for us to eat. I thought we could spend time together.”
“Spend time together?” Mouse repeated my words as though she’d never heard them. That was another thing I hadn’t noticed before. Her accent was subtly different from the rest of the Bloodstones, almost unnoticeable until now. How had I missed it?
“If you’d like to.” I bit my lip, and looked around for a place to sit. There was only the mattress. “I’m sorry I invaded your space. I didn’t know this was where you were hiding.”
But I had hoped to find her. I just wish I hadn’t been caught sneaking around.
What if that destroyed whatever trust she had in me?
Mouse fell silent for a moment, before replying, “It’s okay.”
I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Setting the basket on the floor, I removed my cloak and spread it out beside it.
Then I knelt and lifted the cloth, smiling when I found several napkins, a butter knife, and a jar of jam tucked inside.
Emerias had packed it beautifully; perhaps those two cakes he stole were his price for care.
I placed the cloth on top of my cloak and spread out some scones, napkins, the knife and jam on it.
When I looked up, Mouse hadn’t moved. It was clear she didn’t want to leave the safety of the shadows, or else she would have.
I sensed she had suffered a lot, something we had in common, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by asking her to join me.
“Do you like strawberry jam?”
“I… have never tasted it.”
My heart clenched. Never tasted jam? Somehow I had the feeling that was one of many things Mouse had never done.
“Would you like to try some?”
There was a pause, then barely audible: “Yes, please.”
As I cut a cake in half and spread some jam over it, I suddenly wished I’d brought more to eat and something warm to wash it down.
I knew what it felt like to survive meagerly, but this was a whole different level.
I wanted to run down the stairs and fill a whole trunk with clothes and fresh bedding for her, and anything else she might need.
No one deserved to live like this. And all alone, too?
I blinked back tears and placed the lathered cake into the basket. Whatever I wanted to ask Mouse about, Daigen could wait. I stood and carried the basket toward her. Mouse shrank from me, and I instantly stopped. I’d barely gotten six feet closer.
“You don’t have to be frightened of me,” I whispered.
I crouched and placed the basket on the floor.
By the time I returned to my spot, Mouse had dragged it into the shadows with her.
Out of the corner of my eye, she sat down on what looked like a small stool.
I ate with her, and gods curse him, Daigen was right: the bloodberry cake really was delicious.
The fluffy texture melted on my tongue, and the sharp tang of bloodberries — sweet at first, then dark and spiced, like mulled summer wine, burst across my tastebuds.
Too bad Daigen had ruined the cream. It would have gone perfectly.
“I have never tasted anything like this,” Mouse said after a moment. “It would go nicely with cream, I bet.”
I choked on my last bit of cake at that. My eyes watered as I tried to stop the food from blocking my airway. This would not be the way I die.
“The king — thought so too,” I choked out, slamming a fist against my chest. “We actually — made them — together.”
“You baked with him?” I could hear the awe in Mouse’s voice. She was pensive for a moment. “I cannot imagine him baking.”
“It was even more…”—exhilarating, erotic, deeply arousing?—“terrifying than you might think. I barely made it out alive. Don’t tell anyone, though.”
I tilted my head to the side, hoping to hide the blush that now scorched my cheeks.
Mouse giggled before she said, over a mouthful, “I shall take this to my grave.”
I laughed with her. “Hey, I knew I could trust you!”
Gods, it felt so good to laugh. Really laugh.
I brushed the crumbs off my lap and tucked into another scone.
“Would you like more?” I asked her.
“I’d like to keep one for later, if that’s okay.”
I nodded, and counted the cakes. There were still eight left. I’d leave all of them for her, and bring whatever else I could from now on. Maybe I could bring her some gowns and blankets next time.
“When we finished making them,” I said, going back to the conversation, “the healers came for him. They were in silver robes, their faces hidden. Curious, right?”
“That’s not curious at all. They’re the Starlight healers — the most sacred of their order. They keep the Bloodstone Tree alive.”
I stopped spreading the jam, my hand pausing, pulse stuttering. “Do you know what it costs them to keep the Tree alive? It looked like they were healing it.”
In the shadows, Mouse shook her head and brushed crumbs from her knee.
The movement caught the light, and I saw the scars along her hand and forearm. They looked like old burn marks.
“Only those permitted within the sanctum know. It’s very difficult to get into.” She paused, tilting her head. “The king will summon you soon.”
I ate the rest of my cake, trying to sound casual in an effort to hide my nerves.“Do you know what he wants?”
Mouse gave another shake and finished her cake too, just as a ray of sunlight stretched through the window and caught the tip of my shoes.
“Only that an emissary arrived from Selenith, and whatever message they carried was not received well. It involved you.”
My heartbeat didn’t just accelerate then. It damn near burst from my chest.
The last time the Moonstone King issued a document with my name… he had ordered for me to be killed.
I rose quickly and turned to Mouse, brushing the crumbs off my dress.
“Thank you for telling me this.”
Mouse stood, too, and darted behind one of the pillars so I couldn’t see her.
“Thank you for visiting me,” she said, her voice a quiet squeak again.
I looked around the space, vowing to make changes to it. To ensure she never had to live like this again, not if I could help it.
“Of course. We’re friends,” I said, smiling at her.
“Friends,” she repeated after a moment. “I’ve never had a friend before.”
"Me either,” I admitted. Yet even as I smiled, my pulse quickened.
A Moonstone emissary in the Bloodstone Palace could only mean one thing.
The gods weren’t done with me yet.