Ulvarth covered the flames with his hand. She didn’t know if he had somehow smothered her fire—or if it was the sheer surprise of the motion that extinguished her spark. He leaned in, the thick scent of peppermint making her dizzy.
“Now, now, you’ve done so well. No need to fight.”
Vi would spit in his face if she could.
“Especially not since I’m willing to make a deal with you.”
Her body went still. Warning bells tolled violently in her mind. His mere proximity had her whole body aflame with caution.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A deal to save yours and your father’s skins?” Ulvarth waited long enough that it became clear he was waiting on her. His mouth twitched into a brief grimace, but he kept his composure. “Well?”
Vi nodded begrudgingly, and the sinister smile returned.
“Good, I thought so.” Ulvarth leaned away. “Take her to my throne,” he commanded the knights holding her before starting off ahead.
Vi was all but dragged behind him, ushered into the shadow of the Archives of Yargen, through the lofty stone archway, framed by two open doors.
And into the Light of Yargen for the first time.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Archivesof Yargen were barely comprehensible. They should be an impossibility. Surely a place like this couldn’t exist.
Vi forgot her body for several blissful minutes as she was half-carried, half-dragged through the ground floor of the Archives. She was too distracted by the shelves on shelves on shelves of books. Surely, every piece of knowledge that ever existed was compiled and packed into the overflowing bookcases that lined the spire all the way to the top.
Rings of walkways—connected by stairways and ladders—spread out at varying intervals all the way to the top. At the summit, a brazier hung over the center of the room, larger and more opulent than any Vi had ever seen. Several archways extended from the bookcases to support it, with chains hanging from points on the ceiling to further secure its suspension above the center of the tall, hollow room.
She squinted at the flame. It was so bright that it lit the whole of the Archives like daylight, even though there were no other light sources positioned among the bookcases.
Underneath her feet was a tiled floor of mother-of-pearl mosaic grouted with gold. At the center, directly under the flame, was a large golden sun. At the sun’s center was an intricate engraving of a glyph Vi recognized from the coin Charlie the pirate had used to pay at the tavern. It was the same glyph she’d seen carved in the trees in Soricium—three interconnected circles, stacked vertically with a line through their center.
“Keep moving.” One of the knights shoved her and Vi stumbled forward.
They led her across the room, directly under the flame. From where Vi stood, it seemed massive—and she was at least ten stories beneath it. Vi couldn’t fathom its size up close. Even from here, she could see sculpted women fanning outward and linking arms to hold the main basin with their frozen, reverent faces.
Above the flame was a stone ceiling—likely the floor of Taavin’s room. His prison.
She had no further opportunity to study the Archives as the knights led her through a side door tucked between bookcases. They wound up a narrow stair sandwiched behind the bookshelves, illuminated by glowing stones—not unlike those in the Twilight Kingdom—and emerged in a hallway through one of the soaring arches she’d seen connecting the main archives to the pointed buildings fanning around it like sun rays. Through another carved and gilded door they went, into what Ulvarth had aptly described as a throne room.
He sat on a chair of gold, plush with purple velvet. A sun rose up from the back of his chair, its points giving the illusion of a crown on his raven hair. A sash was draped over his shoulder and he wielded the crystal scythe in his right hand. Just the sight of him holding the glittering weapon made her feel ill.
“Kneel.” The brown-eyed knight who’d been manhandling her kicked the back of her knees. Vi fell hard, biting against her gag to keep back a shout of pain. “You’re in the presence of High Lord Ulvarth, Lord of the Swords of Light, Destined Savior of Meru and Champion of Yargen.”
Ulvarth’s hateful eyes glimmered as he looked down on her. Vi had no doubt that while he didn’t respect her land or people, he still delighted in seeing a princess brought to her knees before him. And a man that delighted in debasing others was a man who could never be trusted.
“If I remove your gag, do you promise not to try to use magic against me?”
Vi thought about it for a long moment and eventually nodded. He’d said something about offering her a deal, and she wanted to hear him out. Taavin was still at play in all of this.He wouldn’t betray her, Vi’s heart insisted for a countless time.
“Remove her gag, leave the shackles, and get out,” Ulvarth commanded his knights.
“My Lord—”
“I did not ask for your opinion,” Ulvarth said smoothly, almost lightly, as though he was making a passing suggestion and not levying a very obvious threat.
The knight removed her gag and left, closing the door behind them. Vi listened for their footsteps—they promptly stopped just beyond the door. Maybe she could kill Ulvarth, but she wouldn’t make it out alive.
“Are you thinking of killing me?” he asked with a surprisingly smug grin.
