CHAPTER SEVEN #3
Bile shot from my churning gut at her words. “Was this—” I cleared my burning throat. “Was this in Shalimar?”
Laney’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”
My next step faltered. I tucked a stand of hair behind my ear.
“I overheard someone from Shalimar talking about a house fire. He said a baby was orphaned.” I cleared my still-burning throat again.
“Being orphaned is a, uh…sore topic. Even though it was years ago, their conversation stuck with me. I never forgot the baby.” My words were as quiet as hers had been. “And now I know who she was.”
Laney stared at me for a heartbeat before nodding and dragging me around another corner.
My shoulders sagged when we stopped in front of tall double doors that sloped up into a wide, pointed archway.
The ornate, gold-plated handles were buried under a thick layer of dust, the light dying when it struck their long-forgotten surface.
Forest-green paint was spiderwebbed and dull.
I shoved the story of Brie’s parents into the box of things I couldn’t bear to dwell on and followed Laney inside.
“We used to host solstice every year,” she said. “Hundreds of humans would come and celebrate what had once seemed like the unbreakable bonds of friendship.”
I stopped just inside the archway. My eyes popped wide as I took in the cavernous room.
A peaked glass ceiling framed the bit of sky that lay caged between the towering peaks around Falcos.
The angled panes of glass caught the sun, sending shimmering beams of sunlight onto a smooth, bone-white floor. Beautiful.
I closed my eyes and refocused my distracted mind.
Solstice. That was all that mattered. “Why come to Vircann then, if you had such a magnificent place to host the festivities?” I kept my voice casual and stepped further inside, my gaze trailing along a mural that banded the middle of the pearly stone walls that were so much lighter than the rest of Falcos.
She shrugged. “Because we were invited.” She turned around, back toward the archway, and I shadowed her. “It isn’t the history you wanted, but these walls tell a story of their own.”
I followed her gaze up to the mural and studied it closer.
Gargoyles and humans stood side by side on a grassy knoll as they faced a horde of da’kai, the gargoyles’ wings immortalized in delicate brush strokes and hairline cracking in the wall that perfectly captured their sprawling veins.
The da’kai blacked out a wide swath, but their features were less monstrous than the depictions I had always seen.
The tapestry I had stared at in the hallway jumped to mind. My skin prickled like I’d been stabbed by a thousand tiny claws. It depicted the process of getting to this; the in-between of devolving into little more than a raving beast. To be aware enough to know it was happening…my gut twisted.
“Humans once fought alongside us. For a long time, there were just too many da’kai, and too few of us, to do it alone,” Laney said.
I trailed along the mural, gobbling up the images of man and gargoyle beating back the tide of the demon horde, until I reached an alcove and a break in the story.
A meticulously hewn statue rose to the ceiling, each groove of its armor and smooth expanse of skin crafted to perfection.
I craned my neck to see its face, and my brow shot up when I saw it was a woman.
My surprise only deepened when I noticed her perfectly rounded pupils.
A quick glance revealed two others, each halfway along their respective wall.
Laney came to stand beside me. “Heroes rose among the humans, each as brave and capable as any gargoyle. These statues are a tribute to a few of the greatest. They all sacrificed themselves for the betterment of both man and gargoyle.”
“Who was she?” I asked. I took in her long, braided hair and delicate features, her posture proud and grip on a longbow and arrow sure.
“Her name was Joslyn. She was a master archer and brave as any man. Young girls in human villages used to run around with little toy bows. Joslyn was their idol, and they wanted to be just like her.”
I turned to Laney. “I’ve never heard of any of this. I don’t understand why they wouldn’t be celebrated among humans.”
Laney shrugged. “Archon Davina wasn’t lying when she said humans are terrible at remembering their own histories. I think most humans who have seen this room think it a mere fairy tale.”
I followed along the rest of the mural, to the last frame that showed a considerably smaller horde of da’kai, their backs turned on a triumphant celebration as they retreated into a forest. I trailed my fingers along the inside door handle, leaving behind a gleaming streak of gold.
I glanced down at my fingers, now covered in dust.
“We haven’t used this place since Solstice,” Laney said from behind me, her voice dropping an octave. “Come, I’ll show you the gardens, next.”
I turned back to the ballroom, my eyes again falling on Joslyn and her proud features. I lingered for a moment, then followed Laney from the room.