CHAPTER XVI #7
Without thinking too long on it I swiftly reach down. I pull out the larger dagger with the intention of swinging it back over my head, but my attempt isn’t fast enough and I fall to the hard floor below me with a painful thud.
I stand up with a groan and rub my aching back, feeling Stormfall push off from my shoulder before he glides to one of the lower branches so that he can wait me out.
The Bird of Ash caws in encouragement as I swing my arm up to begin again.
I sink the large blade deep into the oak and repeat the movement with the smaller, then hoist myself up until I’m standing.
Swift, Alexis. Swift and fluid.
I lean down once more, prepared for my weight this time, and pull the dagger out from under my boot. My grip on both blades keeps me tethered to the oak as I round the dagger over my head and pierce the trunk even higher, my body groaning in even more protest as I pull myself upwards.
Six.
Six more of those same movements before I even get close to the first branch. I wipe away the sweat on my brow and repeat the process, arm reaching below me before swinging back up to pull me forward. It takes a while, but I eventually greet a preening Storm on that first limb.
I wrap my stomach over the branch in complete and utter exhaustion, though Stormfall’s caw to my right urges me onwards, the Bird of Ash once again gliding to somewhere higher in the oak as I groan in response.
I glance up in determination and take in the many branches above, somehow finding my balance on the branch as I store away my blades on trembling legs.
I take a deep breath and use the limbs for footing, climbing the rest of the way up the Great Oak. Eventually I find a sturdy limb that is thicker than a horse and wrap my legs around it, my shoulders falling to the trunk at my back as I plant myself firmly against it.
Ancients.
I take a moment to myself before deciding to look down.
I’m quite literally in the thick of the Great Oak, with every space around me surrounded by greens and browns.
The sight of it all is truly immaculate, and the gentle breeze that flows through the tree makes all of its leaves whisper in tender greeting.
I can even spot Golem through all the thickness still standing on the ground floor, the magical creature hiding in the shadows as he keeps to himself.
I sigh at the sight and close my eyes.
Am I happy?
Yes.
Did I achieve what I set out to do?
Yes.
Without question.
So why am I not satisfied?
I glance again to the enveloping limbs surrounding me, scowling at how comforting the strong Oak hovers in its embrace. The lanterns of bottled moonslight are shining from every limb, their twinkling lights acting as faux stars in the night as they wink back knowingly.
I have successfully climbed the Great Oak, something I’ve wanted to do so many times in the past, so why am I still not satisfied?
The answer hits me like one of Lord Daniel’s boulders.
Because the Oak still remains too inviting and friendly.
Yes, my muscles ached in getting up here, but once I had a handle on my movements the rest of the way up felt like a breeze.
My heart yearned for the cutting edges of the Shadow Oak, for the black granite stone that weaved itself around the wood.
That Oak would never allow me to attempt such a climb and would have laughed in my face for even considering it.
But most of all I yearned for the smell of firewood in the air, not the soft greenery that wants to soothe.
I yearned to let that fire fill my lungs, to fuel my body with its own flames as the raucous sound of laughter and mugs clanked on tables below me.
Nothing here was right, despite this grand room being so beloved to me over the years.
I don’t stop myself when my need for more pushes hard against my abdomen. I push all of my yearning desires for Keane to join me, desperately calling out to him in a request to add his own fire and lively presence. Will he feel it? Will he recognize the desperation in my need?
I quickly grab the oak slab and pen from my bag, pulling at the cloth aggressively. The wood remains blank as I push my need out to him again, willing for Keane to look for me, find me.
I feel you…
His strong words etch themselves over the wood as I heave a deep sigh of relief.
Locate through me, I write back.
Keane’s curiosity summoning hits me hard but I’m ready for it.
I welcome the familiar gripping of my chest as my lungs constrict in anticipation, my breathing stuttering for a long moment before he releases me just as quickly.
My exhale is violent as I rub against my collarbone, my fingers trembling when his words appear again.
What are you doing, Alexis?
Searching. I write.
Not finding.
I swear I feel the ground shake below me the moment the words disappear.
There’s no way. No damn Ancients way.
I’ll be there tomorrow.
I close my eyes and envision him here in Bardot, grinning at the thought of him walking down these halls.
How do you plan on getting down?
The question makes me glance to the bottom with a frown. How was I going to get down? I shrug and let my body relax against the oak behind me. I’ll deal with that problem when I’m done here.
Alexis…
That playful warning tone carves into the wood with my name.
I’ll send Desmond, he continues.
No. I write instantly. No one will find me up here. We’re alone.
Where are you? I change the subject.
Brierman. We leave in the late morning with the delegation. We’ll be at Castle Bardot before sundown.
I close my eyes again, finally allowing the calm air around the oak settle into my body. I’ll see him soon. I’ll feel that fire again soon.
Stormfall glides down to greet me, his proud chest puffing up for attention as I lazily stroke down his back.
The two of us settle in as I begin debating spending the rest of my night here, the thought of reading under a lantern of bottled moonslight sounding cozy.
I pull out one of the books Clair loaned me, the one on the Kingdom of Livyatan, and crack its spine, angling the text towards the moonslight and smiling when Stormfall perches himself between my legs.
I don’t even make it through the first page before the sound of hard, strong footsteps come bounding out from across the room.
I glance down to the roots and watch as Golem disappears into a side of the trunk that is covered in heavy shadows.
The steps grow even louder as they make their way directly under me, so I hold my breath and sink farther into the limbs, scowling when the visitor’s dark brown boots and black ensemble finally come into view.
Desmond’s ebony face juts up hard to the limbs above him, the frown on his face telling me that my night has ended.
I don’t like you right now. I write.
Keane’s chuckle fills my bones, his summoning vibrating under my skin as I wrap the cloth around the oak pen and slab and tuck them and the book back into my bag.
“The Prince may be my brother, Lady Alexis,” the Master Informer scowls up at me, “but he is still my superior. When he gives me an order to make sure that you don’t leave your room tonight, I reap the consequences when that order is not followed.”
Keane’s laughter pushes against my bones again, apparently still locating me. Golem timidly steps out from the shadows after hearing Desmond’s voice, the Master Informer turning his glare on our magical friend.
“And you’re no help, Golem.”
“Don’t blame him,” I reply, knowing that my voice will reach Desmond’s ears, “I threatened to cut through the door if he tried to stop me.”
Keane’s next chuckle has such a hint of approval in it that it makes me grin. I swing my leg over the large limb and move down to the next, watching as Desmond crosses his arms over his chest with a raised brow.
“I’m curious to see how this plays out, Alexis,” he smirks, “how were you planning on getting down?”
I drop again with shrug, “perhaps I’ll just take a fall and hope that you catch me… though if you don’t, you’ll probably have bigger consequences to face from your brother.”
Desmond narrows his eyes and takes a few steps through the roots. He looks up at where I am and then adjusts his stance again, almost as if he’s anticipating that I actually will fall.
“That was a joke, Desmond,” I laugh from above, moving down to another limb.
“I’ve witnessed your clumsy feet more than once, Lady Alexis,” he shakes his head, “I’m taking no chances.”
“An interesting place in the castle to talk to yourself, brother,” a smug voice fills the room.
My whole body stills. I grip the limb I’m on tightly and stand straight against the oak’s trunk.
Keane’s sudden curiosity pushes at my chest, his summoning latching onto my heart and lungs, squeezing them both in a tight embrace.
I do my best to breathe through the uncomfortable feeling and peer through the large branches, watching as Desmond turns to greet his brother.
Troy steps over the large roots in the ground, his eyes falling on where Golem was just standing. I see the magical creature sink farther into the shadows and flick his hand, whatever magic he just used shielding us both from the younger Prince’s view.
Troy stops a few feet away from Desmond with a frown, his blonde hair shining under the bottled moonslight as his searching blue gaze passes right over me.
He’s wearing a rich, pale green tunic with white embroidery, the formal collar resting high along his neck and stopping just below his angular jaw.
His cold and beautiful features look around once more before landing on his brother, his hand darting up to the blonde stubble dotting across his jaw and lips before he gives him a side smile.
“It’s good to see you, Desmond,” he nods, “is our father’s Golem with you?”
He knows.
“Why would he be?”