Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
NISSA
Iwake up before daybreak with a new resolve. I’ll jump through whatever hoops Isolde demands, but my main goal is to find a prophecy that talks about a “mirrored princess.”
I slip out of my room before the servants even arrive to wake me. Inside the Royal Archives, I’m greeted with the warmth of the fires that burn through the long, narrow room. It’s been over a decade since I’ve been in here, and I stop in the doorway to appreciate the room’s beauty.
The ceiling’s domed windows send streams of light shafting throughout the space as the sun rises to start the day.
The bookshelves stretch two stories, and the wall on one side of the room has been built around an ancient tree.
Its trunk has grown into a staircase to the second floor, its massive limbs creating walkways around the high shelves where most of the books are stored.
On the first floor, four seating areas are spread out down the center of the long room.
Each of the four sections has chairs surrounding a large copper bowl.
Each bowl showcases an individual element—a roaring fire, a stunning water feature, an artistic display of leaves, feathers, and petals caught in an ever changing wind.
The final bowl is filled with moving flowers and vines, their colors and shape changing and shifting, like dancing foliage.
I remember the display of elements being grander. Maybe it’s that I’m not a youngling anymore. Maybe it’s the failing energy.
I step inside, and the great doors whoosh closed behind me. I jump, even more startled when I realize two golden eyes are staring straight at me through the flames rising from the fire element vessel.
I watch for a few breaths. I can’t make out a body through the flames, but whatever it is it seems small. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous. I swallow and take another slow step forward. “Hello?” I say tentatively.
Unmoving, the creature blinks as it regards me. Then the tiny white and gold head of a dryrd pops out from the side of the flames. The tousled feathers on the top of the little head bob.
“Well, hi there, handsome.” I giggle, and his eyes light up. “What are you doing here?”
The little guy makes his way around the lip of the flaming display. Sitting back on his golden, scaled haunches, he wraps his tail around himself and looks up at me.
Getting down on my knees, I smile at his sweet little features that are analyzing me. “Can I touch you?” I ask, lifting my hand up to him and waiting.
Dryrds are notoriously skittish creatures, but so far nothing about this one seems shy. They are a hybrid species of the long-extinct dragons and the wild birds of the human world. I’ve never been so close to one.
The creature regards me for just a moment before blowing warm air from his white leathery snout and lowering his head towards me.
The corners of my mouth lift as I use the back of my knuckle to stroke the soft feathers that start at the top of his head right before his golden spikes fall down his back.
On the second stroke down his back, he lifts onto all fours and stretches his golden-lined, webbed wings away from his body.
I pull my hand back slightly, but he pushes his head into me, nuzzling me to continue.
“Do you like that?” I gently scratch right between his wings and am answered with a contented rumble. I give him one more little pat. “Unfortunately, I need to look for a book,” I say, pulling my hand back.
The archive is well maintained, not a speck of dust to be found, the smell of old paper surprisingly absent.
I glance above at the rows of shelves, then search around me for any type of index or recordkeeping system that could help me find the information I need.
Not finding anything obvious, I climb the tree staircase, wandering aimlessly until I see the tiny dryrd’s reptilian eyes staring at me from the shelf right in front of my face.
“Back for more?” I chuckle, reaching up and scratching the side of his neck. His eyes shut. “Any chance you know where the books on Fae prophecies are?” I joke.
His eyes open and regard me for a moment before he takes a few steps and jumps to the wide branch. He scuttles along the bottom of a few shelves before pausing and looking back at me as if waiting for me to follow.
My eyebrows come together as he huffs. “Really?” I mumble.
He leads me up around the second floor, climbing and hopping between the shelves until he lands on one and stares at me.
I study the titles: The Gemini Sisters: An Account of the New Worlds and the Goddesses that Created Them… Pantheon of the Past … The Song of the Elements: Prophecies of Fire, Water, Wind and Earth…
On and on they go. Book after book about Fae history. Recounts of our time in the human world, creation of the new worlds, and prophecies from Gaia.
“You may be the best thing that’s happened to me since I moved in here,” I say, lifting my hand up to the little dryrd.
I had no idea these creatures could understand us. Or maybe it’s just this one. Either way, thank the Goddess he can, because it would have taken me ten lifetimes to find these books without assistance.
He jumps on my hand and runs up my arm to my shoulder. Laughing, I rub him while I scan the titles etched into the leather bindings. “Any chance you know which one talks about the mirrored princesses?”
He’s looking at me, just leafs from my face, but this time he doesn’t lead me to any more books.
Gathering up five volumes with titles that refer to prophecies, I make my way down to the chairs around the earth vessel. The little library dryrd crawls down my dress and curls up in a little ball next to my seat, warming the side of my leg as I flip through the books.
“I am going to need to figure out a name for you, little one,” I tell him.
He blinks up at me a couple times before he closes his eyes.
Several hours later, disappointment washes over me. I stand and look around the archives one last time before I need to leave. The fact that I’ve found nothing yet makes me hesitate. There has to be something in all these shelves of history.
“I’ll be back to see you later, I promise,” I tell my new friend. I can’t wait another minute without risking a scolding from Isolde.
After three days of fruitless searching during every free minute I have, I am losing hope.
I give the dryrd a little parting rub and slide out the door.
When I see Cillian and Caspien stopped up the hallway, anxiety replaces frustration as I take them in.
I’ve managed to avoid them both since we returned from Varethiel.
No longer. Since they both are looking straight at me.
“Good afternoon, Nissa.” Caspien greets me first, embers burning in his eyes. “What have you been up to?” He glances at the room at my back.
A creak from the door I just closed saves me from a reply. A little white tufted head and two familiar eyes peek out of the square-cut opening centered in the wood. The dryrd pops through the smaller door, bright eyes lock on me.
“Cyndr.” Cillian’s deep timber says in a firm but playful tone. “Where do you think you’re off to? Coming to find me?” He regards the little dragon with affection and reaches around me to rub his neck.
“Cyndr?” I look between the two as my new friend nuzzles into Cillian’s hand.
“The stray vermin he took in a few years ago.” Caspien wrinkles his nose. “He found it almost dead in his elemental lands. My brother insisted on bringing it back to the castle.”
I note his use of “it” when this dryrd clearly has a name.
“Cyndr adopted the archives,” Cillian explains. “Once he was feeling better, he made the space his home. I put in the door so he could come and go as he pleases.”
Just when I’m trying to distance myself, I find out that he’s out there saving abandoned animals.
“I hope he didn’t give you too hard a time,” he continues. “He’s very protective of his space.” Still rubbing the little dragon.
“Actually, I think he may have been following me out,” I confess. “He seems rather attached.”
Cillian’s hand pauses on Cyndr’s head. “You bonded with Cyndr?”
“Is that unusual?” I question.
A snort leaves Caspien’s throat. I look between the two of them.
“He doesn’t typically let anyone near him,” Cillian answers.
“That’s an understatement.” Caspien laughs tightly. “The little monster hates everyone other than my brother. There are scars on many to prove it.”
I turn back to Cyndr. “You aren’t a monster, are you?” I reach up, and he immediately jumps on my hand, scurrying up my arm to the crook of my neck and snuggling in.
Cillian’s mouth falls open.
Could this male that saves helpless animals really be lying to me about my sister’s death? I try to read the emotion on his face as I rub the back of the apparent terrorizer.
Caspien clears his throat. I flinch, pulling my eyes away from the sharp planes of Cillian’s face. I’ve been staring too long.
“I was hoping we could find some time to get together.” Caspien quirks a brow at me. “With the coronation approaching, it would be good to get to know one another better.”
“That sounds perfect.” It doesn’t but I have to remember my mission and I need to keep Cillian at a distance. Isolde was right, we are both getting too involved. I aim for an airy, flirty voice, even though the words feel wrong coming out, reminding me of Aiden calling me out on the fake persona.
Caspien doesn’t seem to mind. “Dinner tonight?”
Nodding, I fight the sense of unease filling my chest, and remind myself this fits with Ophe’s and my plan. If the witch believes I can trust Caspien, then maybe he has some insight into the prophecy.
I quickly hand off Cyndr to Cillian before I can change my mind.