24. Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
I’d lost Audrie as she darted under the carved arches of the towering library. Its structure was immensely tall, and its tip vanished into the puffy white clouds of the day. Audrie had whisper-shouted something about meeting us … somewhere. That girl was chaos incarnate.
But it made me smile, nonetheless.
A few days ago, Kaed had enlisted Gavrin as our escort once he’d been freed from the Cage. He’d insisted it was for my protection. I knew, at least in part, he didn’t yet trust our new bargain.
But I could, in fact, live with our new arrangement.
Two lunar cycles. Not that long in the scheme of things.
And I would spend most of it here, my nose buried in any number of musty leather-bound tomes.
They weren’t the books I wanted to read.
Not the stories and legends I would get lost in when I was younger, wishing I were somewhere else, far away from Shadowfall.
Somewhere filled with adventures and creatures.
My own adventure had taken a turn I hadn’t anticipated.
But I was here, in the most vast library in the Four Corners, and I would at least enjoy that.
Whether Kaed believed in our bargain or not, that was his issue.
As we’d made our way through the towering building, Gavrin looked less than pleased with this particular escort duty. But his eyes brightened a little each time Audrie got excited about a book or a new section she wanted to look through during our visit.
The library itself was the oldest and also one of the largest buildings in Viverna, according to Audrie. It stood as a steeple amongst the hilly landscape of steps and slopes, its erudite shadow spilling out over the city.
I had thought the exterior with its balconies and cascading foliage was impressive. But the core of the great library was like stepping into another world entirely.
A coiling walkway climbed upwards; an observation platform shaped like a corkscrew.
It flowed around the centre of the entire structure, which had been hollowed out to form a shaft that spanned the seventeen floors of the building.
Right to the very top, where a dome of glass allowed light in.
And not just in, but down and through to every single corner of the various levels.
The light adjustment was controlled by a series of mirrors that could be flipped and angled as needed to direct shafts of light.
But the light wasn’t just for the walkway, readers and researchers.
Its primary purpose was to provide light to the hanging forest that grew throughout the entire shaft.
Hundreds of shrubs, ferns and curving trees seemed to dangle mid-air through the levels.
As I looked closer, I could see that the root and branch system of the gnarled trees provided a woven tapestry for the other plants to grow and thrive in.
“Doesn’t the dampness of the foliage damage the books?” I wondered as we wound our way up the gentle slope of the walkway.
Audrie shrugged as I gaped. “Can’t harm them that much if this place has stood for hundreds of years.”
Pointing to a particularly huge tree that spanned at least five floors, Gavrin said, “Ten gold says I could climb that.”
Audrie scoffed. “I’d like to see you try.”
She meant it sardonically, but Gavrin gave a big goofy grin at the supposed challenge.
“No one is climbing anything. Serious research to be done here. Remember?” Though Gavrin’s idea, even if we fell, seemed like more fun than what lay ahead of us.
“What are these ones?” I fanned the open book whose pages were eaten by woodworm and slightly tacky to the touch. Audrie had dumped a pile, and they all looked like a monochrome of beige.
“Let’s start at the start,” she suggested. “Geography of the Four Corners.”
“As good a place as any,” I agreed.
Gavrin stood sentry the entire time we read, flicking through page after page of landscapes and terrain descriptions, looking for any mention of faebane at all.
After hours of reading non-stop about lakes and beautiful craggy formations of valleys and mountain passes, it all started to appear the same. “This has got to be the worst punishment I could have given myself.” I groaned and threw my head back over the pew.
A grunt from Gavrin suggested he thought his job was worse.
I had always enjoyed learning about the Four Corners, the world I hadn’t explored, the one I knew had to be better than the only tiny pocket I’d ever known. But learning about the minutiae and natural formations was not something I had planned.
“Is there something we could pivot to, maybe about the Crowns and the war?” Two sets of eyes fell on me as they wondered at my question. “It’s just that, well, wasn’t that the last time any real source of faebane was found?”
There was a beat of silence, and Audrie and Gavrin went still.
“What is it?” I looked between both of them.
Gavrin was stoic.
“It’s just that, that topic—Well, it’s a little … murky,” Audrie decided on.
A huff of agreement came from Gavrin.
“You were there? Weren’t you?” I tipped my nose to the sentinel.
His shoulders tensed, and his nostrils flared a little. He gave a tight nod, but that was it.
“I’m sorry.” I finally realised I was trying to barrel my way into a history that, for any number of reasons, could have been painful for Gavrin.
Audrie shifted as Gavrin did, but she finally spoke. “The histories and details of the war are largely forbidden and have been hoarded in Hayden.”
“What?” I thought of the king and his armies, the devastation they would have brought to the Four Corners during the Two-Hundred-Year War, and then to conceal the details.
“Well, not all the details. Just the end.”
That was even stranger. Why the end? Surely that would be the part that made the most sense to celebrate, to pontificate over.
“The Aurorans were beaten.” Gavrin flicked his eyes to me. “That’s all that matters.”
I looked up at him, wondering if there was any way to pull what I wanted from his defensive stance.
“Geology is not my forte, but it’s interesting.” Audrie tried to banish the tension that had poured from Gavrin. “I’m happy to stay and read a while longer if you both want to leave.”
I pulled at the end of my braid, dipping my chin to hide a sheepish look.
Gavrin and I exchanged a glance, and then we shifted our gazes to Audrie. I wasn’t about to abandon her here.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not the one under house arrest, or whatever it is Kaedian is calling it,” she said.
A bubble of laughter escaped me as I said, “I’m not under house arrest. He’s just being—”
“Kaed,” Gavrin supplied. “He’s being Kaed.”
“And he is the one who is under city arrest,” I clarified.
“Which essentially amounts to nothing? Right?” Audrie had seemed confused earlier by the concept of being under city arrest. And she was right to be.
I wasn’t sure about their decision either.
Or how the council would enforce it. It seemed like a risky move to hold the Prince of the Northern Corner.
My mind still reeled at that title. I refused to call him “my Lord” from the start with anything other than heavy sarcasm.
But there was never going to be a truth where I called him “my Prince.” But maybe it had been the council’s only card.
The Eastern Corner had once held its own Crown.
Though long ago, Viverna had been the seat of that power.
So perhaps handing over all power to a single Crown was something they were still chafing against.
“Isn’t the king upset over this? Would he not care that the pr—Kaed is being held?”
Gavrin scoffed, and Audrie looked to him, biting her cheek.
“The king doesn’t really leave Hayden. He hasn’t since the war ended. Or rather, since it began,” she said with deliberate quiet.
My brow raised in question.
“He, well …” Audrie looked to Gavrin again. He nodded in affirmation. What was so private about all this that Audrie felt compelled to check with Gavrin? “The king has always used his sons as soldiers, spearheads on the front lines during the Two-Hundred-Year War.”
“So why would now be any different?” I finished for her.
Audrie nodded.
So Kaed was a bargaining chip for the Vivernan council and a pawn for his father. A cold knot settled in my throat, but I swallowed against it.
Over the past few days, news of the trade routes shutting down from Hayden had reached Viverna, and Kaed was to appear before the council this week as the representative and Prince of Hayden and the Northern Crown.
It was still a heavy weight in my hands to know he was the heir to the Northern Crown.
It hadn’t dredged up any reverence in me for my kidnapper, but it was a strange knowledge to have alongside my first impression of him.
I didn’t know if he would attend the meetings because he had to as a political prisoner of the city, or if he wanted to.
Maybe he genuinely cared whether or not trade and peace were upheld with Hayden.
From the little Audrie had told me of his father before now, I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to negotiate with him.
If he thought punishing his own son was the answer to good parenting, I would hate to think what he thought good politics was.
And if he was happy for his son to bear the weight of his crown, then maybe he really was more of a king in name and not deed.
Knowing I was now held by not just the prince but, by extension, the King of the Northern Corner, turned my skin cold.
I hadn’t felt the iron bars of my captivity; I had never been caged in quite so literal a sense as Kaed had been.
But the looming aura of the Crown was something difficult to ignore.
“Where are you going?” Gavrin asked, brow stern as I stood.
“I just need a little space.” I didn’t bother turning back, and no one followed me.
The stillness of the pages and the gentle breathing of the living forest shaft offered more peace than the history I’d scratched at.