Chapter 37 #2
Almost as soon as I had written them, the letters vanished. I inhaled a startled breath and rubbed my eyes. In their place, new words formed in a handwriting that most certainly wasn’t mine. Afraid they, too, would disappear, I read them quickly.
I like to stay hidden, I live in the dark
I swallow you whole without leaving a mark
I can hold prisoners, or I liberate
For some I unite, for some I devastate
I belong to all, I am shared by some
Sometimes held by many, or sometimes by one
I can live forever, or I die with you
A shadowy friend you wish you never knew
They say I can rot, they say I cause pain
To discover my pages, you must give me a name
A riddle. I read the words over and over again until I had the entire thing memorized.
A shadow? No, shadows don’t rot or cause pain.
I played the riddle over again and again in my mind, even during lunch, which I unenthusiastically picked at. What in Seru’s name could it be?
Shortly after lunch, a servant arrived at my door. Prince Hugo had summoned me to his quarters.
I was surprised to find Hugo in his study. He was sitting up in an upholstered chair in front of an intricately-carved stone hearth, its swirling designs a near replica of the ones found on the oak front doors. Filip stood at his side, ever the loyal guard.
Hugo looked noticeably better than yesterday. The color had returned to his face, and the shadows beneath his eyes had nearly vanished.
“You look like shit,” he greeted me. “Have you slept at all?”
I couldn’t muster a biting retort, not when I knew he was right. I had glimpsed myself in the mirror before I left and it wasn’t good. My hair was unkempt as I hadn’t allowed Britta to touch it, violet shadows framed my bloodshot eyes, and my skin was pale and dull.
“I found something,” I said, handing Hugo the notebook. Filip hovered over Hugo’s shoulder and the two of them read the riddle.
“Well, it’s obvious,” Hugo said, shutting the notebook and handing it back to me. “It’s fear.”
Of course! I felt silly for not having thought of it myself. I crossed the room to Hugo’s desk where I helped myself to his ink and quill. I wrote the word ‘fear’ underneath the riddle. I held my breath as the riddle disappeared and new words formed in its place.
You are incorrect. I’ll give you one last guess.
My heart sank. “You’re wrong,” I said. “We only have one more chance to guess correctly.”
A deep crease formed on Hugo’s brow. “I was so sure…” he muttered. “No matter. We’ll keep thinking on it. For now, did you find anything in the books I sent you?”
“No,” I said flatly, taking a seat in a second upholstered chair.
“Continue your search. Those books are invaluable—I’m certain we’ll uncover something of use.”
Despite my disappointment that we had not solved the riddle, curiosity got the better of me. “Care to explain how they came to be in your possession?”
He studied his nails. “I have my ways and means.”
I cocked my head. “Do I want to know?”
“He paid a criminal amount of gold to a black-market dealer from Amaros,” Filip explained.
I made a thoughtful noise that might have passed as admiration.
“I’m impressed. Though, if your librarian knew you had them, he’d combust so thoroughly that Tuli herself wouldn’t be able to collect the ashes.
” A thought struck me. “Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to ask you: what is that bird?
” I pointed to the vase on top of the oak cabinet.
His eyebrows furrowed for a moment. “The phoenix?”
“A what?” I eyed the crimson bird perched atop Tuli’s shoulder.
“A phoenix. They are mythological creatures said to be native to the goddess’s world. According to legend, they possess incredible powers.”
Why had I never heard of them before? It seemed odd that Doran wouldn’t mention them in my studies. I leaned forward slightly. “Such as?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Very little information can be found about phoenixes, and their existence has never been proven. In fact, there are those who speculate they’re merely a symbolic representation of Tuli’s power.”
“Then how would the artist know what it looks like?” I asked, thinking about the sketch that was safely tucked away in my drawer at Vellamere Palace. Its resemblance to the image on the vase was uncanny.
He shrugged. “The artist was an Elf. Perhaps he nibbled on a magic toadstool and was struck by divine inspiration.” I couldn’t help but snort—had Hugo actually made a joke? “Why are you so interested?”
“I like birds,” I said. It was the truth; he didn’t need to know the rest.
He smirked. “I suppose we must all have our little hobbies.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, pointing to the golden key displayed next to the vase.
“Don’t get him started on that,” Filip groaned.
Hugo’s eyes lit up. “That,” he said with pride, “is a magical key that can open any lock. I call it The Chameleon. It cost me a bloody fortune.”
I quirked an eyebrow. Magical artifacts in Anerdor could not be easy to come by. I thought back to all the stories I’d read warning mortals against magic. “I’m surprised you’re allowed to keep it?”
With a guilty look, he said, “Its magical properties are not exactly widely known, so kindly keep that bit of information to yourself.”
“Does Tarben know?” I asked in a would-be-casual voice.
“He does, as a matter of fact. Why so interested in my brother?” he asked with a sly smile.
“Just wondering,” I said, tracing circles on the soft velvet of the chair. “Did either of you find anything of use?” I changed the subject.
That wiped the smirk off of Hugo’s face, but it was Filip who answered.
“Nothing yet. We haven’t had much time to search with all that’s been going on in the wake of Runa’s murder.
” I flinched. No matter how many times I heard it, it still didn’t feel real.
“We’ve been pulled into endless meetings.
His Majesty has demanded the investigation into the castle murderer be prioritized above all else. ”
“Good,” I said, emotion cracking my voice.
A flicker of sympathy passed over his eyes. “We’ll find who did this,” he said.
We would. We had to. Runa’s death was a devastating blow—I would not let this monster harm Tarben too.
I continued to speculate with Hugo and Filip, until Hugo grew noticeably faint, although he would never admit it. When he began yawning and struggling to keep his eyes open, I took it as my signal to leave.
Much later, back in my bedchamber, I was puzzling over the riddle, vaguely aware of the soft pattering of rain against my window pane, when there was a knock on my door.
Who would be calling on me at this hour?
I rolled out of bed and padded to the door, not bothering to throw a dressing gown over my pale pink nightgown.
I opened the door and my jaw dropped; but, before I could say a word, a pair of lips was crushing my own.
Tarben had returned.