This must be the stairway to the north tower, represented by the small circle we saw on the sketched map.
A watchtower seems rather pointless for an island in the middle of nowhere. What would they see from its peak? Endless stretches of stormy ocean?
Maybe the tower is like a control center for Annordun, the source of things like the anti-Fae shield and the other spellworkprotecting the artifacts. Maybe there’s a map up there, or a record of where everything is stored.
If there are records, I’d probably be able to read them. According to Maven, most Fae use the common tongue rather than provincial dialects or the language of the ancients, especially when it comes to inter-kingdom communication. If I could pinpoint exactly where the Drosselmeyer collection is being stored, I’d save myself a lot of time. I might even discover a way to disable any spellwork that’s currently protecting it, or an easier method of exiting Annordun so my crew doesn’t have to navigate the lava moat or the narrow bridge while carrying packs full of loot.
With a quick adjustment of the bags on my back, I start climbing the circular stairs at the rear of the fortress. It takes forever to mount all the flights, and by the time I reach the top, the muscles in my thighs are burning and there’s a stitch in my side.
I lean against the wall to catch my breath while I take out the wishing stone. Three of the twenty-four dots have disappeared. I count twice to make sure, and both times I come up with twenty-one.
So it is counting down the hours. Three down, twenty-one to go until my team reappears or I can make another wish.
I roll the stone around in my palm, watching the way its glow turns my skin orange. This is potentially the most powerful object I’ve ever held. Will it give me endless wishes, three wishes, or just one? What’s the extent of its power?
What if I could wish foranything?
I start thinking of potential wishes, like giving Candle back her youth, or longer life for myself… though right now, I’m not sure I would even want that. Life feels like too much trouble, sometimes. Too heavy to bear for longer than a few more decades. I suppose I could wish for riches, but I’m already on the path to getting those.
Maybe I’d wish for my crew to adore me and never leave me.
But I reject the idea the moment it enters my head. That scenario wouldn’t make me happy, because I’d know that they were with me out of compulsion, because of magic, not from love or loyalty.
Besides, if my theory is correct, and wishes made with this stone endure for only twenty-four hours, nothing lasting or meaningful can come from using it. It can’t give me anything I really crave.
Stuffing it back in my pocket, I enter the door at the top of the stairs. A strange shivery feeling passes over me as I walk in, and I wonder if perhaps I’ve passed through another layer of security spellwork intended only for Faeries, not for plucky human thieves. I suppose the Fae tend to underestimate what humans are capable of.
Something about that concept bothers me, though, because of the tapestry I saw on the first floor, the one that depicted the Fae King marrying a human woman who then became his queen and the leader of his army. If any of the Fae understood what humans are capable of, it would be him. And according to legend, he built this place, with the help of the Unseelie Queen. Wouldn’t he have safeguarded the fortress against humans, too? Unless he figured that protecting the routes between realms was enough.
Getting in here was difficult, but I can’t help feeling like it was a little too easy, and when things are too easy at first, they’re about to become really fucking dangerous.
The room I’ve stepped into doesn’t ease my mind. Several glowing red orbs float among a network of rafters, against thedomed ceiling of the tower chamber. As I enter, their scarlet hue lightens and they gradually change from red to orange to yellow.
The large, round room is entirely free of eyes. It contains a large cabinet, a long table, and dozens upon dozens of slim, stone pedestals, all different heights. On every pedestal, nestled in velvet, is a globe of dark glass crested with an ornamental medallion.
For a moment I’m dazzled by the number of pedestals and the sheer quantity of globes. They glisten like a hundred dark eyes. Each one is about the size of a grapefruit.
I approach the nearest pedestal, which stands at waist height on me, and I lean over it, peering into the globe. It reminds me of a fortune-teller’s crystal ball, except there’s a fancy golden crest at the top, like the tip of a pointed tower. Instead of emptiness or swirling color, there’s an image in the sphere. An image of the outer wall of the fortress.
“What the hell?” I touch the globe lightly with my fingertip, then jump back, startled. The instant I touched it, the image grew larger and clearer.
Tentatively I stroke the surface of the ball and discover that it lets me shift my view of the outer wall closer or farther away, depending on the movement of my fingers on the glass. The other orbs in the room show different parts of the fortress, from the perimeter to the inner wall to the hallways and rooms of the keep itself.
The truth floods my mind like heady wine. The eyes that blink all over Annordun are connected to these spheres. From this room, one can observe every area of the fortress—which could be very useful not only for security purposes, but for anyone who might want to conduct experiments on certain artifacts and observe the results from a safe distance.
The globes are placed in concentric rings and set at different heights depending on the part of Annordun that they overlook.Some of them are at the level of my breast, representing the third floor, while the second-floor spheres are slightly lower and the first-floor ones are at waist-height. A number of the pedestals are hip-height on me, representing a subterranean level whose existence my team and I never suspected.
In one of those lower spheres, I spot a large room containing haphazard piles of mechanical objects and clockwork devices that look instantly familiar.
“There you are,” I murmur, smiling. “Drosselmeyer’s collection. Now all I have to do is—”
Movement from a nearby globe catches my eye, and my stomach does a slow, sick flop.
Prowling along the hallway of the subterranean level is a creature with brick-red skin sucked against the jutting bones of its skeletal frame. Three sets of bony shoulders poke up from along its spine, each branching into a pair of thick legs that look more like arms, ending in clawed paws. Two huge, ribbed horns protrude where its eyes should be. Behind its skull, ribbed fans of scarlet skin widen and flutter, and at its rear writhes a pair of prehensile tails.
As I watch, the beast yawns, its muzzle splitting into three different jaws, each rimmed with fangs.
“Shit.” I lean closer to the sphere, staring at the monster. This place isn’t entirely unguarded, after all. How am I supposed to defeat something like that by myself?
