Chapter 17
We take narrow alleys and bustling streets to the crowded city square.
The temperature climbs as we walk through the cobblestoned lanes, and I’m immensely grateful for the flowing, feminine attire.
The clay buildings look much larger in the morning light, and the dry air is leaden with the aroma of dried flowers and cardamom.
Birds chatter as they fly overhead, but I’m too focused on my thoughts to see what kind they are.
A small group of leaders from each community trail after us as we follow Ashur to the moonstone. But the conversation at breakfast lingers in my mind, leaving me feeling perturbed.
Did they really think that I was wrong? Or lying?
A wicked creature fooled them and yet, I, the rightful born heir, have to work to convince them. I scoff out loud at the lunacy of it.
Lachlan leans towards me and whispers, “What is it?”
I shake my head, glaring straight ahead. “They don’t believe what I’ve told them. Not even after seeing the asphidra corpse. There’s no trust here, and it’s frustrating. What more must I do?”
A small chuckle makes its way through his closed lips. “It’s not that they don’t trust ye. It’s just easier to fool someone than to convince them they’ve been fooled.”
Sighing through my nose, I squint as we step from the shaded alley and into the glaring sunlight in the square. He’s right, of course. But still—it’s annoying.
An enormous oval moonstone is suspended between two pillars by a thick chain. Each link is the size of my arm and is polished to a mirrored shine. It looks more like a locket necklace for a giant than what I was picturing.
Rage simmers in my veins at the spectacle of it all, and the heat that blooms within me rivals the temperature of the square.
The chains, and the ornate carvings on the pillars, are all lies to keep my people weak and powerless.
The foresight this must have taken to cause the amount of damage it has is confounding.
Just knowing Julius orchestrated it to inflict unspeakable harm upon my people, the very people who raised him, leaves me feeling breathless.
Our world and traditions withered away year by year. People were murdered, and for what? So they could enslave a weaker species? I clench my hands into fists, gouging small crescent moons into my flesh.
When I see him again, it will be my blade that ends his life—his reign of terror.
Ashur clears his throat, pulling me from my wrathful plans as I glare at the moonstone.
He gestures to the small raised wooden platform on the north side of the square, in front of where the crowd is gathering.
The platform is crudely made, probably thrown together last night after our arrival.
“I’m so sorry this is the best we could do on such short notice,” he apologizes.
“It will serve its purpose.”
Lachlan stands like a statue beside me, his own head tilted up to observe the offensively large stone. I graze his arm as I pass, pulling his attention to me so that we can walk together to the platform. We cut a straight path through the crowd.
Men, women, and children all wear brightly colored linen clothing. Such finely crafted clothes, with golden embroidery on cuffs, and necklines. No one says a thing to us as we walk past like I’m not their queen, and I can’t decide if I’m relieved or offended.
My sandals slap against the two small uneven steps before I turn to face the crowd.
My face is still twisted with disgust, but I do my best to smile and breathe through the anger still swirling within me.
Maybe that’s why no one said anything to us.
We look positively murderous. Murmurs swell in waves throughout the crowd.
I need to get it together. The quickest way to do this would be to rally their support, not incite a riot.
Clearing my throat, I raise my palms, silencing the murmuring crowd. “I’m sure you are all wondering why we have gathered you here on such short notice. But it is for wonderful news.” I do my best to bestow my most queenly smile upon the crowd. “We have restored magic!”
The crowd breaks into loud cheers and applause. A bell tolls above the cheers, and I glance sidelong at Lachlan, a smile budding on his face. A true smile stretches across mine as my anger recedes. This is a good sign. I bounce my hands in front of me so that the cheers quiet down.
“Yes, we have restored magic to the capital island and to Scota. And now I am here to do the same for you.”
The crowd is silent as they wait for my next words.
“Unfortunately, to restore magic.” I turn and point to the moonstone. “I have to take down the moonstone that was gifted to you—by our enemy,” I add on that last part loudly, but it makes no difference.
Immediately, there is discord. Men shout, hands gesture wildly, and women plead.
“Enough!” Lachlan yells. The veins on his neck bulge and his nostrils flare as he heaves a breath.
The men who have been conscripted to help us stand between us and the crowd. They shift on their feet and hold out their arms, urging the crowd to listen. But the people shove against the guards, and my throat tightens. This could go from bad to worse quicker than I imagined.
How can I get them to listen? To trust me the way the other islands have?
They don’t know me or what I’ve gone through to help them. They heard my words in the capital, but they didn’t believe them. Believe what I had gone through for them.
What I have gone through…
I turn to Lachlan, pulling my axe from the straps on his back.
Odin’s axe. My telltale blessing from the god himself that proves that I am his chosen heir.
That I was worthy. The carvings of ravens in flight feel smooth in my grip as I hold it higher, directly into a shaft of sunlight that spears between the buildings and into the square.
The ray of golden light glimmers down the pristine sharpened blade.
A hush settles over the crowd. Mouths drop open as I turn slightly, directing the light into the center of the crowd.
I lift my chin up, holding my head high.
A soft breeze winds through the crowd, ruffling my unbound hair and twisting the skirt around my legs.
It smells lovely, bringing the scents of cinnamon, cardamom, and dried lavender from the nearby market tents.
Lachlan shifts on his feet and throws a wary smile my way. “Good thinking,” he whispers from the side of his mouth. The uncomfortable pressure of being an outsider lessens, emboldening me to forge on.
“I know you all know what this means. So please listen to me. I would never do anything to offend Ishtar. But that very moonstone is an offense to her. The asphidra, pretending to be Odessa, corrupted the moonstone with evil. The very asphidra that is now rotting in my throne room.” I point with my axe to the moonstone that is now glowing in the early afternoon light.
The green of the venom radiates all around us.
“That green is not typical of a moonstone. Because it is NOT a moonstone. It is quartz imbued with asphidra venom.” Horrified gasps ring out, but I keep going.
“Asphidra venom blocks magic. To restore it, we have to remove the venom. It is extremely dangerous and we have to work carefully. I need everyone except those that are removing the venom to leave the square.” No one moves.
“I promise the goddess will not be upset and that no harm will befall your island. I will do my best to ensure your moonstone stays. But for now, please leave the square.”
Slowly, the gathered crowd trickles out of the square and back into the streets. A sigh works its way out of my chest. Well, it didn’t go perfectly, but it wasn’t a riot, so that’s good at least. Ashur aims a carefully crafted smile my way, and I can’t tell if he’s relieved or not.
“Those two chains suspend the moonstone.” He points to the chains that hoist the stone between the pillars. “They’re on a pulley system because we lower it occasionally to clean it.”
That explains the polished shine.
I dip my chin as I study the chains linked through the moonstone. “Very good. That’ll make our job easier.”
Ashur follows my line of sight, his shoulders dropping a fraction. “Do you have to destroy it? It means so much to the people here.”
I bite my lip as the men lower the chains, and I pull my necklace out from underneath my leathers. A thought forms in my mind as I rub the golden chain between my fingertips. “We’ll see.” Even after everything, they still believe it is a blessing.
Lachlan leans in close to whisper in my ear, “What do ye mean?”
I let go of my necklace to toy with the pouch tied to my waist. “I might have an idea.”
His eyes lower to my fingers, and his brows raise towards his hairline. “What’re ye planning?”
“I don’t know until I can see the crystal closer,” I breathe. Praying my idea will pan out. Lachlan grazes his fingers over my hand and I flex my fingers, needing to feel more of him.
The men grunt as they pull the chain on the pulley system. It squeaks with each inch it lowers. The stone descends at a painstakingly slow pace and my anxiety ramps up with each passing second.
Please work. Please work. Please work.
When the stone is lowered to my eye-line, I walk around it, analyzing the enormous disk-shaped stone with carvings on either side.
Crouching down, I run my finger along the bottom to the top, checking.
But when I get to the top, my nail catches on a tiny bump protruding from the surface of the disk.
A stopper.
The exact thing I had desperately searched for on the throne.
I inhale sharply, trying not to get my hopes up too high.
The stopper is about as big as my fist and is practically invisible against the surface of the disk.
Leaving my finger on the bump, I reach for the dagger strapped to my thigh and pull it out between the layers of chiffon, wedging the tip between the lip of the stopper and the surface of the crystal. I pry it up ever so carefully.
“Easy, lass,” Lach whispers from behind me. My eyes narrow on the cork of crystal, and I hold my breath as I slide the quartz stopper from its tomb.
With a final plunk, the stopper comes free and plinks to the ground.
Ashur’s eyes widen in amazement or fear. “It is true.” He clutches his chest as he takes a step back.
I want to snarl at him, but Lachlan beats me to it. “Of course it is. Ye think your queen would lie to ye?”
Ashur shakes his head as he holds his braided beard in a fist. “No, but I had hoped she’d been mistaken.”
I peer through the hole on top of the disk and at the eerie stillness of the green venom inside. The stench of Tane’s burning flesh streaks across my mind, and I take a quick step back.
“Key—”
“I’m alright.” I shake my head and my unbound hair waves with the motion.
Taking a deep breath and holding it for four seconds, I go through two rounds of mindfulness before I feel steady enough to continue.
When my pulse slows, I confidently approach the quartz again.
Pulling open the pouch, I take a tiny pinch of the onyx dust, sprinkle it into the opening, and peek inside.
A small fizzle sounds when the first specks of dust touch the venom.
“Ye clever, clever woman,” Lach breathes.
I smile, but focus on the task at hand, careful not to spill any of the priceless black dust. The specks of raven stone sizzle all the way down before settling onto the bottom, where they continue to cause the venom to bubble up.
“It’s working.”
I siphon more and more dust into the moonstone until I’ve used almost an entire handful. With each sprinkle, the green light fades away. Soon, the crystal is filled with nothing but black sand. The breeze stops, the birds quiet, and a hush falls over the people still gathered.
Sunlight blazes around us.
No. Not the sun. Me.
My skin shimmers like the sun’s rays and the light reflects off Lachlan’s startled face.
“Here we go again,” he murmurs, before dropping to one knee.
Ashur sweeps up the bottom of his robe into a fist before he, too, drops to one knee. The other men rapidly follow suit.
My skin tingles and my chest swells with pride.
I did it. Magic is restored.
My wings appear, the weight familiar and comforting.
I’m one step closer, and Odin is confirming my path.
Things are looking up.