“I will not stay in the Keep.”
“Maybe you can take all that energy and repair things with your sister.”
Maggie blanched to a ghostly white. It was a low blow, but I needed distance to let her go. I might have dabbled with her, strengthened her so she couldfend for herself, but taking her further on this journey was irresponsible.
She screeched anyway as the raven took to the sky. It was for the best. I wanted her too much after our little dalliance in the wood. I stretched, popping my back, willing my anxiety down to a manageable level. She would be safe, if unhappy. Ward would ensure she stayed put.
That was about as kind as my shadowed heart could be, even as it cracked, just a little.
Chapter 6
Noth
Arthur’s eyes rounded as big as dinner plates. Of course, he spied on us through the window. We were the best entertainment to hit this road bump in a hundred years. But he wisely kept any thoughts to himself as he brought my overcoat.
“Is there anywhere in this cursed place that isn’t constantly touched by wind?” I asked.
“There’s a lookout spot in a hollow about a mile east on the cliff top. Used to be where we scanned for merchant ships before them bastard sirens killed this place for no good reason other than their own vanity.”
I blinked. Hearing Arthur swear was like watching a cat dance. Okay, maybe a poor analogy because there was a very fine dancing cat in Vinguard that made quite a bit of money off of his daily show and I actually loved it once Ward convinced me to see it.
Chill immediately enveloped me as I stepped back out into the salt and wind. I would try flattery first. It was always easier than violence to get what I wanted.
How the Calix had come here was something of a mystery. A charming mystery, but one Ward had provided only a few clues for. Elven records had marked an intoxicated bet between the royal house steward and a passing minstrel. Ward found an obscure diary entry about a cockerel and a pint of lager, but he couldn’t be sure if that was actually a reference to someone’s dick and some drunken sex. The prize wasn’t listed as the Calix, but one would have to assume the house steward recorded the bet. It seemed the Calix had been recovered or at least found just over the border of Allfenheim, used as a doorstop. No one figured out how to return it to the palace without letting the True King know it was missing. From there, if it was possible, the story got murkier.
How long did it serve as a doorstop? No record appeared in Ward’s research. Was it true a Fae King stumbled upon it and it poisoned him with quicksilver? Unknown. A town in the Elven Ages apparently saw so many births they had to bring in Followers of Virtue to curse some wombs. That might have been the Calix, wielded by a lusty and worthy knight, but time obscured even the brightest of objects. Rumor had it, someone even tossed into the sea at some point. Was that how this mermaid, Vera according to Ward’s notes, acquired it?
If she just happened upon it, I could woo it away fromher. Every woman liked flowers even if they didn't understand plants the way Elves did. So many of the Harrowland’s monsters had been alive for so long, gestures like the language of flowers had died. Blood poppies for sleep. Sun Petals for adoration. Black Star Jasmine for sensuality. All learned from Yaya and my father. I understood Maggie’s obsession with crystals in the same way I knew Long Stem Bluebells enhanced humility. I even planted them just outside my least favorite guest chamber. The natural world had power even the monsters of the Harrowlands had forgotten about.
Druids might worship the land, but Elves acted as the true stewards of it. We had formed light into living things at the beginning, and these days we kept that tradition alive through the cultivation of plants and growing things. Few people knew Nightmares pulled the same out of the dark. Two sides of the same talon, really. Not that the Elves would hear of that blasphemy.
A bit of sandy soil at the lookout point allowed me to coax up some thready branches of sea lavender. I needed endurance, success, and good fortune. The pale purple, paper-like flowers bloomed under my touch, turning into a cluster, then a bush.
Let me help.My Nightmare rumbled within me. I didn’t want him to corrupt it, but this needed to be as impressive as possible.
Don’t kill it,I warned him.
He scoffed and extended a many-jointed fingerout to brush against the fragile petals. They darkened to a deep royal purple and I nearly shoved him back until the blossoms grew bigger, heavier with a starry swirl in their center. The blooms were like nothing I’d ever seen. I wondered how they would look in Maggie’s long, earth and auburn hair. Did she get to the Keep? Was she telling her sister what an asshole I was? I accidentally crushed a branch in my hand. Tossing it away, I wiped my face. What did I care? I had to focus. Mooning over my attempted murderer wouldn’t get my throne back.
My Nightmare liked witnessing things grow, but his efforts began to consume a swath of the gorse-covered hill and it would just die when I left. So, I collected what I needed and headed over the gentle hills to the cliff-side. If the narrow stairs leading down to the town proper hadn’t been slippery as a salamander’s backside, I might have appreciated the silvery skirt of the sea spread out before me. My gaze flicked from placing my feet on the lime steps to the bobbing selkies tracking a turquoise sea dragon out in the shallow bay. This place must have been quite a harbor in its glory days. The sight of it reduced to ruin made me a bit melancholy.
I went to ask Maggie what she thought of the white, wood and iron temple huddling in their town square, but she was ridiculously absent. A large sigh escaped me.
What few monsters remained bustled about, drawing in their morning catch and trading. A couple shed their skins and slipped into the water, which was weird towatch. Not that anyone stayed sane watching my Nightmare emerge, but I didn’t leave my skin lying around either.
While the village didn’t have many people, there were enough to ask for directions. I strode over the cobbles with the giant bunch of one-of-a-kind flowers in my arms and you would have thought I was carrying a corpse with the way they scurried. The first woman brushed me off. The second man kept nodding until I almost throttled him. I didn’t see any children to terrorize. No one treated me like this. Fear, awe, adoration - yes. Did they see Brad’s dark thumbprint still disturbing my sleepless nights? Did they think me weak?
I took up position on a warm stone bench in the square, watching for my next mark. The only town intrigue available involved a monk exiting a red-edged portal.
“Mr. Morgan? I’m looking for Mr. Morgan, please.”
It was only a small satisfaction to see him also fail to get any reply from these lumps of stone. The monk eventually wandered into another portal after he lost his voice bleating like a sheep for whoever the six heavens Mr. Morgan was.
I waited an additional hour–a feat of pure endurance if I did say so myself–until a young woman finally, definitely, accidentally, tripped over my foot, forced to talk to me.
“Watch yourself,”she said.
I put on my least alarming smile. “Do you happen to know where Vera lives?”
