The young woman from the battlefield and the king were wed in the next panel, their hearts glowing a bright gold. They looked at one another with a tender love that brought tears to my eyes. They were both beautiful, resplendent in their marriage robes. Both human and elf surrounding them in fine clothing rejoiced. Snow fell around them, alighting on their crowns like halos. Ice sculptures and plates of food, hot drinks, and cakes were being enjoyed by elf and human alike in the panel. Holly berries and green garlands decorated the tables and chairs. A band made up of both human and elf played their music with cheering and adoring expressions.
“The first queen of Winterthorn, Queen Elayna and King Theronvere, my grandmother and grandfather,” Elden said in wonderment.
We stood and soaked in the joy of that moment for a while, both Elden and I. Elayna and the king met on a battlefield, their own people dying at their feet, and yet, they fell in love.
“How?” I marveled aloud.
Elden shook his head slowly. “There seems to be more to this story than we were told.”
But as we continued past, the picture shifted, showing four enormous gouges through the Elf King’s face, distorting his features. Twisting them. As if a massive beast had raked claws across his beautiful face. I reached up and touched the wall, feeling the deep trenches beneath my fingers. A breeze blew in with a mighty roar, ruffling my tunic and sending my hair billowing about my face. I flinched. It sounded like a growl from some mighty beast–from a shade monster. I grabbed Elden’s arm as we reached the end of the hallway.
Beyond two massive gilded doors, tall columns reached up into the black abyss of a ceiling beyond. Everything beyond a few massive pillars were obscured by darkness, our only light the citrine gemstone in Elden’s fist. Wind whistled around the columns as we walked fully into the space, entirely exposed from all sides. Elden gripped his sword tightly, sweat glistening on his brow. We’d reached Winterthorn’s colossal throne room.
An eerie feeling crept over me. The chill of an imagined clawed hand raking down my spine. Then a roar and huff of breath sounded from somewhere nearby.
We were being hunted.
26
THE ARTIST
Another mighty howl roared through the castle, setting my teeth on edge, my muscles taut.
Elden turned to me with his eyes wide and his face drained of color. But he nursed his chest as he held his sword at the ready. How was he to fight in this weakened state? I was no good in a brawl, butsweet Christmasif I wasn’t going to arm myself. I pulled the heavy saucepan from my leather satchel and brandished it before me like a mighty sword.
“Get behind me.” Elden pushed me back.
We stood back-to-back, turning in the midst of the giant room, illuminated pillars our only source of grounding. My breaths sputtered wildly, and the gemlight passed over the pillars as we spun. The stone seemed to jump out at us with horrible teeth and gaping maws with every flick of the light. The light was nothing more than a lure.
I grabbed the glowing citrine gemstone from Elden and stuck it down the bodice of my tunic plunging us into darkness. Because of our potion, we were invisible to the beast, were we not? Elden’s heavy breaths against my back was the only thinggrounding me in the inky blackness of the throne room. It was as if we were a stone dropped in the center of some great black lake. The complete blackness swallowed me whole.
Silent minutes passed like entire days as we turned, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation, but nothing came. Thanks to Jel’s potion, not even the sound of our own shuffling footsteps reached my ears.
Just as I relaxed my tense shoulders and closed my eyes in relief, a harsh rasping of claws on stone sounded. From the left, no, the right. We spun together trusting that we were still invisible to the mighty beast as it stomped around us. Its claws clicked behind pillars, growing closer with every step.
An unearthly growl resonated through the chamber traveling up my feet and through my own tight lungs. Every breath pushed through my lips with effort. Sweat beaded on my forehead and my knuckles whitened over the grip of my measly saucepan as my eyes saw only blackness.
Another low growl sent shivers down my spine. The hairs on my back raised in true alarm.
“It’s close.” I whispered to Elden.
“Give me the gemstone,” Elden commanded. “As soon as I throw it, I need you to run.”
I swallowed back the bile that threatened to spill out of me and nodded. “Understood.”
“Do you see that pillar of light just ahead?” Elden asked even as the clicking of the claws grew closer, louder, reverberating through the empty chamber. Stalking. Huffing great gusts of hot breath.
Elves’ eyes were far keener than human eyes, but as I squinted and peered into the darkness. I could almost make out a glowing column of yellow light in the distance beyond the pillars.
“That is the heart of Winterthorn, just beyond this throne room,” Elden explained as I readied myself. “Wait until I toss the gemstone before you run. I am going to give you time.”
“Time? How?”
We were both running, were we not?
“It is imperative that you get to the center of the mountain, Noelle,” Elden said through heavy breaths. “And I will do all I can to keep you safe. Now hand me the gemstone.”
I couldn’t think to argue. We needed to get to the heart, and if the trembling of my hands on my tiny saucepan were an indication, I was no good in a fight. “And you’ll meet me there?”
