8. Chapter Eight
The castle is more like an indoor city than a building, and it takes me all morning to navigate.
Even with all the wings I make it to, there are more endless hallways and doors everywhere I turn.
By my estimation, around a quarter of the doors in the places I’ve visited are black.
All are unlocked, and most lead to staircases, and the rest lead to dark, empty halls.
The objects could very well be behind any of them, and the search is already exhausting. Lazzus clearly needs to give me more clues.
Maximo startles me when he clears his throat behind me. “Pardon me, miss. Have you lost your way?”
I stop walking toward the next black door that I was about to look behind. “No, I apologize. The king said I could explore and even said that someone would have winter clothes for me if I wished to go outside.”
“Yes, I can have them placed in your room if you wish?”
“That would be great. Thank you!”
“Can I help you to a more welcoming portion of the castle?”
I turn completely away from the closest forbidden door. “By welcoming, you mean somewhere the king wishes me to be?”
“Yes, that would be another way to put it. He is... He’s very particular about his privacy.”
“Is it privacy or big secrets that are being kept from the entire kingdom?”
He swipes his hand toward the hall I came from. “I believe they could be one and the same. Let’s go back this way, and I will show you the beautiful flower garden.”
“Won’t everything be on its way to winter dead at this point?”
“This is indoors and untouched by anything outside the castle.” He leads me around several turns until it feels we will never find the garden.
A glass dome rests high above an abundance of trees and flowers.
Snow covering the dome darkens the glass red roses and vines that took great skill to create on the ceiling.
The living plants are full of vivid colors and variety.
The path spirals inward with all foliage trimmed and growing to follow the blue stone floor.
In the center is an enormous weeping willow tree with golden branches and leaves.
Round and square amethysts and sapphires dangle from the branches like apples.
Maximo’s massive antlers block most of my view, so I step around him to see if my eyes deceive me. “Is it alive?”
He walks over to it and plucks a sapphire cube. “Quite alive. It grows wealth.” He hands me the gem.
I squeeze it until the edges bite into my fingers. “He grows wealth on trees while his people starve!”
“Just one tree.”
I toss the pretty stone at the base of the tree instead of Maximo’s face. “Just as bad.”
“The king has reasons for many things. Some good and some bad.”
“And how could this possibly be good?”
“I did not say it was. Explore the garden as much as you want. It has many magical things in it. It was once made as a gift to a queen, and Zyon wanted it so badly he had it moved here.”
“He stole it?”
“Yes and no. The queen died.”
“That doesn’t mean he gets to just take it! He’s so greedy and selfish.” I rush back toward the exit, no longer wishing to see any of the disgusting display of the king’s avarice.
A blue cloak, leather gloves, a matching blue hat and scarf set, and thick boots are waiting for me in my room.
Fur lines all the items, and they are as soft as satin against my skin.
Never have I felt true luxury as the moment I put the items on.
Even the socks I assumed would be wool are delightful on my feet.
They warm against my skin almost as though magic heats them, and that increases when I step outside as they seem to turn warmer with the demanding cold.
The snow reaches my knees in places someone hasn’t cleared, and I move back to the path to exert less energy right away.
Ice paints the tree branches and fence posts wind around the melted stone paths.
Grey covers the sky, promising more snow and reminding me of the king’s eyes.
Something about them haunts me, like he holds the harshness of winter in his grasp.
He’s frozen and terrible. I push thoughts of him away because he doesn’t deserve extra space in my mind.
On the outside of the castle, all I’ve ever seen are human guards.
Inside, the walls are skeletal ones that are large, and with cow skulls.
The two long horns protruding from the sides make them look like a larger creature, but I’m unsure of what that would be.
They also have a fan of bones that stick above their spines, like maybe they had a large hump in life.
They walk back and forth at the bottom of the wall and at the top as though they expect an army of threats to penetrate the thick stone that towers several times higher than the guards.
They don’t wear clothes, but it seems bones don’t need protected from winter, and only their swords dangle from each side of their hips.
All branches from the main path wind inward, like the indoor garden, and sometimes there are surprises in the middle, like special trees or little buildings. The sixth structure I find is larger and made of glass, even the roof, though it is blue rather than clear.
The transparent walls of the sixth building reveal shelves of potions and powders.
I wiggle the door, and it seems locked, but I slam my shoulder against it.
I stumble into the room as the lock gives, and the cracked floor cuts my knee when I land on it.
Blood stains the white fur on my pants, and I limp over to a cabinet that holds jars.
Crimson liquid fills every jar, and I pick up several, sloshing them about to watch the colors mix and swirl.
The shades tell me what animals each blood sample belongs to.
The human blood that covers the third shelf sends shivers through me.
Human blood magic is highly forbidden because of potency, but a king makes the rules.
I move on to the other shelves and look at the amazing collection of items Ivelle would have envied.
Many are expensive and scarce. It’s disgusting that many suffer from diseases the king could cure with the items in this room alone.
The room holds so many shelves with items and three tables. Two have chairs around them, and the last is standing height. A brown fur rug is at the far end of the room in front of a dusty fireplace. A large couch and two fluffy chairs make a crescent around the rug.
I jump at the rustling sound that comes from a stack of papers in the corner. The stack goes flying, and a bird skeleton hobbles out. Only it’s actually a bird and not a person with an animal skull.
“Oh, it’s you!” The bird hops on its six little feet bones.
I scream and jump back. “Do I know you?”
He turns his head and leans in. “Sorry. It is difficult for me to see without eyes.”
“I imagine so.”
“Everything takes some adjusting to. I thought you were someone else. I’m Aldric.” He looks behind him. “Morvin, you can come out now.”
A little skeletal mouse scurries out and hides behind Aldric’s legs. “Squeak. Squeak.”
“He doesn’t talk.”
I relax from the shock of the tiny visitors. “The magic didn’t take on him enough?”
The crow’s mouth opens, and he releases swift caws that almost sound like laughter. “No, he’s a mouse.”
“And you’re a crow,” I say.
“Yes, crows, like all birds, can talk, but we often choose not to.”
“Did the king bring you both back?”
“A king long ago did. We were practice for him because it wasn't a natural ability for him, and he was trying to copy another. Then we were brought here and left.”
I turn my attention back to the rest of the room and pull items from the shelves, lining them up on the standing table at the left side of the room.
The blood shelf holds several options for me to make different elixirs.
Reindeer blood is what I choose, and I mix it with yellow pixie powder and mint leaves.
A shelf holds mixing tools, and I grab a red whisk to stir my concoction in a cream marble bowl.
Aldric flutters onto the table and tilts his head back and forth. “What are you making?”
“It will heal deep wounds. Not enough to avoid stitches or save a life completely, but it’ll close the wound from bleeding long enough to get somewhere better treatment can be applied.” I stir in the opposite direction as I was and inspect the hue closely.
“Why don’t you simply create a better treatment?”
“Because I can make ointments that heal long term and keep off blood loss longer, but they take a lot more time to make. I wanted to make something quickly that will help me on a journey I must soon take.”
“You fear the monsters on the far side of the castle?”
“I respect their ability to maim and kill.” I place a spoon into my mixture and scoop some of the potion up, letting it trickle into the bowl to check consistency.
Once I feel satisfied with its quality, I grab three empty bottles and pour it into each.
I rinse the bowl at the small clay sink that rests between two shelves.
I stick the vials into the pouch on my hip.
Aldric grabs a rag and wipes the table for me. “How did you learn to make such a thing?”
“It’s within my occupation, and as teenager, I worked at an apothecary shop, where a very skilled teacher taught me many things.
When I turned eighteen, I trained under talented healers at the blood guild and learned how to make many potions.
My area of expertise is in blood ingredients.
How adding certain types to other items creates unique magic and medicine. ”
“They also make poison and harm.”
“Yes, I learned that side as well, but it isn’t something I take lightly. Harming only when necessary is a personal vow I have. Sometimes harm is needed to save other things. It’s the same belief I hold when injuring or killing through more violent means.”
He hops along the edge of the table until he reaches the corner closest to me. “Poison can be quite violent.”
“Oh yes, indeed, some are much more violent than a sword.”