Chapter 3
The table is bursting with eggs, pancakes, and bacon.
It feels similar to how it was in Olundy.
Yet it still seems cold here. Not like the home we created during our rebellion.
I miss the roaring hearth, timber floors, and antique furniture.
But we’ll have to make do at the Great Hall.
I sit at the center of the table. A carved raven on the backrest presses into me as I lean back, observing my friends.
Lachlan sits on my right, looking clean-shaven and well-rested today.
Mathilda is on my left, her honey-blonde hair pulled up tight in her signature high pony as she casts her eyes across the table to Tane.
Mina is squashed between him and Evander, looking content as she grins at the bacon in her hands.
“What’s the plan now?” Mathilda asks, pulling me out of my inspection.
“We have to make sure the training grounds get up and running, open forges in the capital, and figure out if Julius left anything useful behind.” I tick each item off my fingers.
Three things aren’t that much, but certainly feel like a lot.
It presses down on me, reminding me of everything we failed to achieve thus far.
“So we’re staying here?” Mina asks, with slight hesitation. Her short hair is pulled back, highlighting the freckles across her nose.
I nod. “This is where my ruling seat is, and the bridge between worlds. We need to stay here to guard it and figure out if or how it was opened.” Although I don’t think they used our bridge to launch the invasion, and that was definitely not how Julius left.
Mina’s shoulders drop slightly. My tone was sharper than I intended it to be. The anger I’m harboring leaks into every facet of my being. Lachlan’s hand grazes the top of my knee, and I shoot him a look before sighing. It’s not their fault, and they’re undeserving of my temper.
“Sorry, I’m not trying to be tyrannical,” I mutter, looking down at my full plate.
Mathilda and Mina share a look before shaking their heads.
“It’s understandable. You’re under an immense amount of pressure,” Mathilda says gently, and nudges my plate closer to me.
Her sky-blue eyes mirror nothing but kindness and understanding.
My whole life, I had longed for friends and a home.
Yet, here I am, lashing out at them. No more.
I take a deep breath, counting to four, and letting the rage slip away.
I give her a grateful smile before taking a bite of a plump grape.
“Let’s go through Julius and Odessa’s room after breakfast to see if we can find anything about their plans or if anyone was working with them.”
I glance around the table for agreement, but Mina’s eyes widen almost comically.
“What is it?” I ask, my head tilting.
“Luna was always with them … ” she draws the words out as if she’s trying to put the pieces together. I had almost forgotten about the woman who resembled a moonbeam. I don’t think I ever even spoke to her, and the one time I tried, she studied her nails before flitting away.
“When was the last time anyone saw her?” Mathilda asks, toying with the ends of her hair.
A memory from long ago resurfaces.
“I saw her the night we went out dancing.” I shiver, thinking about how frightening she looked that evening—and the dead body that was discovered the next day.
“It had to of been before that for me,” Mathilda replies, looking to Tane for confirmation, who nods.
I turn to Evander, and he shrugs.
“I cannae remember the last time I saw her, and Elowen dinna mention anything in her recruiting reports,” Lachlan replies. Two small lines form between his eyes as he thinks about it.
Grimacing, I shift back to Evander. “Send some guards on a patrol and see if we can track her down. She might have some answers.”
***
Odessa’s room is in an area of the Great Hall I didn’t even know existed, tucked away at the far back, on the mountain side.
Luckily, as guards, Lachlan and Evander know where it is.
The wooden door is nondescript, no twisting carving around the doorframe or anything on the door itself.
I reach for the knob, and Lachlan scoffs, brushing my hand away.
“Let me. Just in case there are traps.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I huff, “I don’t like that plan either.”
He ignores my retort and kicks the door open while drawing his sword out in front of him. The action is so swift that had I blinked, I would’ve missed it.
“Ew, it smells … ” Mathilda whines while holding her nose.
“It was a snake’s den,” Lachlan mutters while taking one step into the room and taking up a defensive position by the door.
There’s a pile of something in the corner.
It looks like scraps of fabric mixed with leaves and twigs.
The floors are covered in a fine layer of sand, and the curtains are drawn up tight.
I sniff, inhaling stale air as I take in the rumpled sheets.
It’s empty. Hollow in a way like an unused coffin. But there’s a distinct reptilian smell.
“Is that a nest?” Mina asks, staring at the misshapen pile of clothes and leaves.
“That’s my guess,” I mutter, stepping farther into the room. “Did they share a room?”
“Aye,” Lachlan grinds out between clenched teeth. “Everyone thought they were mates, so they had to keep up the pretense.” His words are wrapped in anger and guilt.
Reaching out, I grasp his elbow, offering what little comfort I can. “It’s not your fault.”
“I dinna ken how we all missed it.” He shakes his head and sheathes his sword.
I shrug my shoulders, walking to open the curtains and let some light in. “I’m sure you all had bigger things to worry about. I mean—come on—the realm was losing magic.”
With the curtains open, fresh air floats in, but not on a breeze.
It’s still on this side of the Great Hall.
But it still clears away some of the reptilian odor.
I look out at the mountains glittering in the morning sun, their peaks piercing low-hanging clouds.
“And you did everything you could. You guys started the rebellion, after all.” I stride across the room to check out the bathroom.
But the distinct smell of stagnant water has my steps faltering.
“What’s that watery smell?”
Mathilda glances up from where she’s holding a vial of perfume she plucked off Odessa’s nightstand. She sprays the perfume in the air before inhaling it. “This smells like cloves.”
I glance over to Mina, who’s rifling through the armoire, clothes strewn all around her. “These smell fresh still.”
Lachlan hasn’t moved by the door and shrugs, sniffing the air.
“It smelled like stagnant water. Almost like … groundwater.” My necklace warms on my chest. There’s something here.
I scan the room, pivoting in place. My boots slide fluidly on the sandy floor.
The stone walls are darker on the window side of the room than they are on the opposite side, almost like they’ve been replaced.
A large tapestry hangs level with the towering door frames.
The colors of the fabric are similar to watercolors.
The image woven onto it is of a small pond with several swans.
A large willow tree sits on the water’s edge, its branches blowing in an invisible wind.
But the longer I stare at it, the more it looks like it is moving.
“Is that tapestry moving?”
Lachlan leaves his post by the door and strides over to the tapestry, his boots leaving prints behind in the sand. He lifts a corner of it up, peering behind it.
“Good catch.” He grins, pride radiating from his eyes.
With one powerful tug, he rips the tapestry off the wall, revealing a person-sized hole roughly carved into the stone.
Mina stands on my left, while Mathilda takes up the position on my right.
“We’re not going to go down there—are we?” Mina asks, staring at the crudely cut hole. Her skin blanches, the freckles standing out vividly against her rapidly paling skin.
“Of course we are.” Mathilda grins, rubbing her palms together.
“I’ll grab Evander and Tane, and some torches,” Lachlan says, but he holds his hands palms out to us in a pleading gesture. “Dinna move!”
He rushes out the door, throwing a final wary glance in my direction.
Mathilda slings a thumb towards the bathroom. “There are candles in there.”
Mina grimaces, her shoulders a hairsbreadth away from touching her ears as I dip my chin. “Let’s go.”
Armed with two small candles, we squeeze our way through the jagged stone passageway.
The stench of the room clings to us, and something musky begins to assault my senses with each step we take.
It’s like stagnant pond water, but sharper.
The stone scratches my cheek and arms as I shimmy my way down the path, holding the candle out in front of me.
My fear of small spaces is pushed aside as the looming possibility of finding answers tugs me along. There has to be something here.
Mathilda has to work even harder than I do to fit her much taller frame through the opening and grumbles behind me.
Mina’s light footsteps ahead of us are a stark but hilarious contrast as she easily breezes through.
The crevice begins to widen, and my breathing evens out as I follow behind Mina’s flickering candle-light and into a large stone cavern.
“Whoa,” Mina whispers. “They built their own cave?”
Mathilda lurches through the tight opening and stumbles into the larger space.
Her cheek is red from where she also must’ve scraped it along the stone.
I turn in place, looking around the cave.
It doesn’t appear manmade at all. Stalagmites rise up like treacherous spears from the uneven ground.
While stalactites hang precariously from the ceiling.
Water drips from their sharp ends, like blades hanging above our heads.
The air is damp but crisp, like when it comes down from the mountains.