Chapter 13
TIME OUT, TIME IN
Ian carried my backpack as he guided me through the palace, leading me ever down flights of cold, echoing stairs.
I chomped at the bit to rip the bag from his grasp, to clutch it to my chest before he even thought to peek inside.
If he managed to open it and confiscate those mystery rocks.
Kevin. My nonsense note. I would lose everything Past Me died to send.
I swallowed a protest, tightening my grip on the hat. No need to antagonize him and lose the element of surprise.
“I don’t panic. I malfunction quietly.” Kevin’s muffled voice spilled from the pack. “Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha.”
Though Ian tossed a frown over his shoulder, he didn’t ask.
The air grew heavier with each descent, thick with an infusion of damp stone and dust. Narrow slits in the walls welcomed in meager slivers of fading sunlight, casting long, skeletal shadows that flickered with our steps. The walls, freshly painted, pressed in around us.
As we navigated the winding, labyrinthine catacombs hidden beneath the castle, everything looked new rather than centuries old.
That didn’t stop the oppressive weight of a history unknown from settling on my shoulders.
This was my family’s ancestral estate. Home to grandparents I’d never met.
Did I have aunts, uncles, and cousins peppered throughout?
“I hope you don’t mind,” Ian said, “but I’m taking you the long route. Letting you see more of the palace while giving the captain time to settle your…beast.”
Did I appreciate the tour? Yes. Would I thank him? No. “The palace is lovely.”
“It is, isn’t it? My father oversaw the restoration of these catacombs twenty-five years ago, when Ahav’s father ruled. These hallowed halls sat in ruins for centuries. Since the time of King Morris, in fact.”
The magic words. My back went ramrod straight. “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.” Tell me everything.
He tossed a polished grin over his shoulder, confident he’d hooked me. “Let us trade stories. I have many questions, but one troubles me more than the others.” His voice dropped ever so slightly. “Have we met before, Oracle?”
Forget hearing about the renovation. I slipped into my supposed maiden slash oracle persona with more ease than expected. Or desired. “Am I so forgettable you must wonder?”
Sheepish, he said, “Excellent point. You are…quite unforgettable.”
Nice save. And really, my brain struggled to reconcile the fifty-something evil Ian of tomorrow with the early-thirties charmer of today.
Especially while trying to come to grips with my new reality: an oracle who’d just met her biological father and prevented the death of her mother. I’d predicted the future.
Or relived a scene from a past incarnation?
Yeah. Probably that. And, yes, okay, without the serpens-rosa, I would’ve died. Which made me think. Had Elowen done me a favor when she’d traded me for Iris, leaving me with Gerald the trapper? Two goals, one underhanded bargain.
Ian led me around a corner. “I think, perhaps, you remind me of my first wife. She, too, was a water maiden.”
“Was?” I’d known Iris killed his second wife—or would—but not what happened to the first.
Everything about him sharpened. “Murdered by a madman right before my eyes.”
In his voice I heard a cocktail of sorrow and anguish. Though I hated everything this man becomes, I wasn’t without compassion for him now. If nothing else, I had a better understanding of why he chose the path of destruction. Did he seek revenge against the world for daring to take his beloved?
“The loss of a loved one is never easy, but those losses taken by violence cut deepest.” And what of the madman?
A thrum of torment and understanding filled the space between us. “So true,” he intoned.
“You have remarried or you will,” I stated. I didn’t like him, but that didn’t mean I wanted an innocent woman to perish either.
“I have already done so, yes. Orders from the top.”
Ahav insisted his second wed again? “Heed my warning. Guard her well or lose her. I sense…trouble.” Speaking of, two dark outlines on the wall drew my notice. A tall man and a slender woman. There, but not there.
I blinked, and they were gone, no hint of them remaining.
My heart refused to calm. I recognized their shape: the shadow woman and her strongman, who’d stood in the corner of the medical facility.
Shudders rippled over my spine. Were they here, watching me? Waiting?
We turned a corner. “I admit, Oracle, I’m fascinated by you,” Ian said.
I bet you are, Guardian. “You’re fascinated because I’m fascinating.” I shoved the shadow couple to the back of my mind. One battle at a time.
Ian chuckled, low and genuinely amused. “You are. You tamed a monstra.” We veered from the winding staircase. “A feat no one else has managed.”
I heard the question in his tone. “I’ll explain only to the king,” I muttered, unsure what else to say.
“Of course,” he replied easily enough, though I noted the bunched muscles between his shoulders.
What I would tell the king remained to be seen.
Ian stopped in front of massive, arched double doors of dark, polished wood, their surfaces intricately carved with a swirling array of fish.
Each figure seemed to leap and glide through invisible currents, their scales catching the dim light.
Some were small and darting, others sleek and powerful, their tails curling into elegant whorls that intertwined across the heavy panels.
The door’s iron handle was shaped like a coiled eel, its body polished smooth from consistent use.
“This chamber is reserved for your queen and usually forbidden to others.” Hinges protested as he opened the doors. “Considering you saved the life of ours, you deserve only the highest honor.”
He stepped aside and waved me inside first. Head lifted, heart thumping, I entered a vast chamber of shockingly tranquil beauty.
A soft, flickering glow of crystals grew from the damp stone walls, dancing upon the surface of a steaming pool in its center.
Mist rose from the sparkling waters, curling tendrils of warmth.
The scent of minerals and lavender called to me, as if my body recognized a mystery my mind hadn’t yet solved, slaking a need I hadn’t known I possessed.
“Queen Elowen decorated it herself,” Ian said, coming up beside me.
“She did a wonderful job.” To the left loomed a large, canopied bed draped in dark velvet, an inviting sanctuary of rich, colorful fabric that rippled like liquid midnight under the ethereal light.
Around it, towering bookcases carved from dark wood lined the walls, their shelves heavy with leather-bound tomes, their spines gleaming with gold lettering.
Across from the bed, above a grand hearth, hung a portrait of Andrea in all her green glory.
Here, her face was unsmeared. She was lovely, but no one I recognized.
The hearth crackled with a mesmerizing fire, its amber glow twining light with shadow across the stone floor.
Nearby, an ornate full-length mirror framed in intricate silver reflected the chamber’s antique splendor.
On the other side of the room, a pot of what smelled like vegetable and herb soup waited on a small, round table. My mouth watered.
Jasher occupied a corner, a metal collar around his neck. A chain connected it to a hook in the floor. Safe. Alive. Relief slammed so hard, my knees threatened to fold. He leaned against the wall with one leg extended, the other bent at the knee. Irritation etched his features.
“Thank you for the escort.” A clear dismissal. I tossed my hat onto the bed.
Ian tossed something as well—at Jasher. A gold coin. The executioner caught it with inhuman reflexes and smiled coldly.
“So. You have heightened reflexes in this half-form,” the commander said, as if he hadn’t already known.
“And I like gold,” Jasher replied as smooth as butter. He flipped the coin and whistled under his breath. “I’m keeping this.”
“Please, do.” Ian looked him over. “What’s your name, monstra?”
Jasher went silent, thanks to my compulsion.
“His name is… Tinman.” I mean, why not? It wasn’t a lie.
Ian glanced between us, intrigued. “I see.” He thought for a moment. “For your protection, Oracle, a pair of guards will be posted outside your door. You have only to call for them. They will see to your every need.”
Protection. Yeah right. I met his sunset gaze, certain his villainous mind already concocted a dozen ways to deal with me if I proved myself an enemy. Best to put together a plan A, B, C, and D before I acted against him.
“I’d like my pack now.” I held out my hand.
Jasher continued flipping the coin, as if he hadn’t a care.
Ian hesitated several beats before offering the bounty. I didn’t let myself snatch it, but I did hug it close. My precious.
The Guardian remained and motioned to the portrait of Andrea. “She has been a constant source of discussion lately. Painted by Queen Sandrine herself, at Queen Elowen’s request.”
“In other renderings I’ve seen, her face is smeared,” I said. “This is the first time I’ve seen her features.”
“No likeness of her survived the ages. Queen Sandrine did not want her being without a face, so she gave her one.”
Oh. So this wasn’t what Andrea looked like. Just a random face.
Peering up at her again, Ian said, “If history is correct, King Morris had her coffin brought to the palace. He used to sit in a room on the other side of these catacombs, begging her to wake. Even though he had a new wife, three sons, and a daughter.”
A coffin. Brought here. “My history books say Andrea and Morris—” my however-many-greats grandfather “—loved each other very much.”
“I’m sure they did. Reports claimed Morris allowed no one else to venture down here.
Not even his family.” A wry smile curved Ian’s lips.
“Legend says he was alone with Andrea’s body when the stones came tumbling down, killing him.
But do not worry,” he rushed to assure me, “the entire structure is reinforced now, thanks to my father’s hard work. ”
If Morris had indeed died down here, it was a tragic end for the one who helped save the kingdom. “Did the restoration of the catacombs uncover his remains or the coffin?” Ahav hadn’t mentioned it in the journal—that I’d read.
Whimper. The journal, gone forever.
“My father did not find either. And now, Oracle, I must return to my duties.” He bowed, cast Jasher a final glance, and strolled from the room.
“Alone again at last,” Jasher muttered.
I whipped around to face him, dropping the pack and slamming my hands to my hips, mind suddenly right back in that conference room, with a soldier bleeding from every orifice. “You are the shadow. Just admit it.”
Hiking one shoulder in a casual shrug, he said, “When you left the barn with your mother, I wanted to kill you so badly, my mind followed. I was as surprised as you were. Every time I do it, it gets easier.”
Gonna skip right over the death threat. Okay.
I should probably order him not to shadow me again. But I’d felt safer with him nearby. Another strange fact for the enigma that was my life.
“How did you kill the soldier like that?” If he could do it, the others could too. “What did you do?”
“That was another surprise. Like before, I wanted to punish him, and I did.” His smirk darkened. “You are not his to hurt.”
“Only yours?” I muttered, handing him the axes when they appeared inches from his legs. Why not? They’d just reappear to him.
Forks of red spilled through his irises. “To my dismay, the desire to hurt you has continued to decline.”
“Lean into that. See how it feels.” Now then. “You hungry?” I shuffled over to the soup and filled two bowls. After passing one to Jasher, I sat nearby.
We ate in comfortable silence. Both the first bowl, and the second.
When we finished, I trudged to the full-length mirror and frowned at my reflection.
Not a single alteration to suggest I was a water maiden.
The same Moriah I’d always seen stared back at me.
Dark hair confined in a loose braid. Hazel eyes bright with confusion.
Freckles. Bruises, scrapes, and scabs scattered across various parts of my body.
As a water maiden, I should be pink like Iris, or red like Elowen. Perhaps green, like Andrea. Not to mention the Wicked Witch of the West.
“What do you see when you look at me?” I asked Jasher. “Physically, I mean. Please tell me.”
“Very well. Ample chest. Squeezable backside. Long legs.”
I snorted. “What about my hair, eye, and skin colors?”
He shook his head, astonished. “You still cannot see it?” A genuine smile spread. “You are blue from head to toe, darling.”
My stomach tightened. Blue? Seriously? But I must be. Why else would everyone keep pegging me as a water maiden at first glance?
But why blue? “Maybe Elowen tried to turn me into Andrea.” What better way to find the Ember than to resurrect the last person who’d used it? “What if only one part of the transformation took?”
“You are blue, yes.” His gaze slid over me, eyelids going heavy. “But you are still Moriah.”