“Believe me, if it were up to the elves, we would have never survived.” I strap the saddlebags onto Borus, who groans and stomps his feet. “Just a little farther, friend. I promise.”
Eloise hands me her bag to add to Borus’s pack and gathers Romulus to her side. “We’ll have to walk them. We’ve driven them too far, too fast.”
“Ah, he’ll make it to the carriage,” Seamus promises.
“The carriage?” Eloise asks.
I’m just as confused. “Did you bring transport?”
He thumps my shoulder. “You don’t think I’d allow you to trek miles up Mount Damocles to the main entrance to the Hall, do you? Not after what you’ve been through. No, we’ll take you the mountain dweller way.”
“We?”
“I brought Amala, in case you were injured. She’s an excellent healer,” he tells Eloise, “and also my wife. She’s waiting outside.”
I follow after my friend, greeting and hugging his wife and introducing her to Eloise. The woman produces a salve for Romulus’s injuries and has the beast bandaged and chuffing contentedly in minutes. When she’s done, we follow the couple down a hill to a wide, spiraling staircase at the base of the mountain, concealed beneath a masterfully engineered gate of stone. Although the rabble beasts balk at the descent, once we reach the bottom, a wooden train car awaits us.
“Seamus, you’ve been holding out on me,” I say as I board the car with the rabble beasts and Eloise. The two mountain dwellers climb in after us and close the side door.
“And if you weren’t recovering, I still would be. As it is, I’d prefer you forget this place exists.” He moves to the front of the carriage and drops an enormous switch. We shoot forward, a chain at the front of the car dragging us along a track.
“Marvelous bit of mountain dweller engineering, eh? We’ll arrive at the palace in a matter of minutes.”
“Thank you, Seamus,” I say, loading my words with my heartfelt sentiment.
The man runs a hand over his bald head. “You can thank us by doing what Catarina says you came to do, removing that brother of yours and that braying ass he calls queen from your rightful throne.”
Serious now, I nod. “That is exactly what I came to do.”
52
Awaken
ELOISE
Mountain dwellers, I learn, are shades, but they are all descended from certain original families who thrived in the heat and underground environment necessary to forge weapons. As such, they are all short in stature, coming in under my insignificant height, and strong as bulls by the look of the muscles that are showcased by their sleeveless cloaks. Even the women look like they could bench-press a Buick. They are also almost entirely hairless, aside from the men’s long beards. Amala’s head is shorn to a short tight crop, and Seamus is entirely bald aside from his chin.
I understand the importance of being hairless the moment we arrive at the village at the center of the mountain. It’s so hot, I’m already sweating by the time we disembark the train car and someone comes to lead the rabble beasts to the stables. It’s not just the heat but the heaviness. There is no breeze. The stagnant and humid air moves in and out of my lungs slowly, purposefully, as if I’m breathing underwater. As a shade, this heat won’t kill me, but it doesn’t feel good. I’m already claustrophobic.
Seamus and Amala lead us to a chamber deep within the mountain. I’m ecstatic to learn there’s running water, but disappointed when my choices for a bath are warm or hot. Cold water and ice apparently don’t exist here.
“I tried to warn you it would be difficult,” Damien says as I step into a bath that is the same temperature as the air around us.
“Knowing the elves can’t come here, I’ll consider it paradise. I think I’m already acclimating.”
He leans over the beautiful brass tub and kisses me. “I promise it will be even easier once you have some mountain ale in your gut.”
“I can’t wait.” Actually, the thought of a good meal and an adult beverage after the last three days makes me almost giddy with happiness.
I finish my bath and dress in the purple gown Ariadne made for me, strapping on my daggers under the skirt for no other reason than habit. I feel incredibly safe here, for the first time in weeks. Damien escorts me to the Great Hall and then to a set of seats at a head table, near Seamus and Amala.
Servers come by and fill our goblets, but the table is already overflowing with a feast of fruit and bread. Seamus stands and raises his glass to the packed room. “It is my pleasure to welcome our honored guests, Damien, future king of Stygarde, and his mate, Eloise.”
The crowd goes wild with raucous applause.
“May he manage to win back our kingdom from the dark elves and set Stygarde right!”
The applause is deafening. But it doesn’t end there. Seamus leans over and asks Damien to say something. I’ve never been much of a speaker, and the idea of being put on the spot like what Seamus just did to Damien would make me squirm uncomfortably, but Damien takes it in stride. He stands and extends his own goblet.
