Reluctantly, Runný pushed off the wall, passing a nervous hand over her braids. Lady Tala had that effect on people. “You understand the…complications which would arise should Eisa Volsik be branded a murderer?”
“Yes, my lady,” replied Runný, her black eyes flicking to Silla’s for an instant.
“Good, my girl. We must maintain the people’s trust in Eisa. It would be best if we did not have them looking too closely at the incident with Fallgerd.”
Wrong,Silla thought, her porridge threatening to push up her throat. Everything about this felt so wrong—and yet she could see the merit in Tala’s words. Her entire purpose here was to meet with the northern jarls—to unite the north in an alliance. Without unity, they hadn’t a chance against Rökkur, nor the Urkans to their south.
“When Ingvarr came to me,” continued Lady Tala, “I asked him to keep yesterday’s events from Jarl Hakon.”
“He hasn’t told him?” Silla’s brows knit together.
“The jarl would not be pleased to hear you’ve snuck out ofAshfall, Eisa, nor of the bags of grain you took from his stores.” Silla’s cheeks flamed. “Telling the jarl might damage the rapport and trust you’ve garnered with him thus far. It is, of course, your choice if we tell him or not. Ingvarr awaits your decision.”
An uneasy silence hung over the room.
Tala folded her hands on the table. “I propose that we keep your excursion to ourselves. And if anyone does find out, then we tell them this: Runný heard the screams. Rushed into the room to find Fallgerd wielding a knife at the princess. Violence was a necessary evil to save Eisa Volsik’s life.”
Runný met Silla’s gaze across the table. But before Silla could tell her not to do it, Runný answered.
“It is just as I recall it, my lady.”
A smile curved Lady Tala’s lips. “Good girl,” she said, glancing between Silla and Runný. “I’m certain I don’t need to tell you that this conversation does not leave this room.”
Runný nodded, but Silla only stared into her porridge. None of this sat well with her. Yet none of beingEisasat well with her. Her daily existence was unsettling. Being Eisa was like wearing an ill-fitting gown, and Silla waited for it to get easier—for the morning she’d wake up and it would feelright.
Her mind was fogged with exhaustion. It was too hard to think, and Lady Tala was so kind and clever—and she knew how to play the games of politics.
Slowly, Silla nodded her head. A zip rushed through her at Tala’s approving smile.
“I’m glad that’s settled,” said Tala. “Now finish your porridge, Eisa. I have something to show you.”
Standing beside Lady Tala, Silla gazed at the cavern wall. After she had forced down the last bite of her porridge—which Silla would begrudgingly admithadimproved her state of mind—Tala had brought her into the deepest reaches of Ashfall Fortress. Once theypassed the cavernous meeting hall where Silla had first met the nobles of Kopa, the carved corridors had shifted to natural, tubular caves. Minerals glinted from rough stone walls, the caverns high-ceilinged and strangely uniform.
“Lava once flowed through here,” Tala had explained. Noticing Silla’s alarmed expression, Lady Tala merely laughed. “Do not fret, Your Highness. I assure you, these caverns are quite safe. Unlike the Sleeping Dragons, Brími’s fire mountain does not slumber. It is well and truly dead.”
“Dead?”
“The chambers inside have been empty as long as our history reaches back. In fact, when the Sleeping Dragons last woke, it is thought the people of Íseldur sheltered in Brími’s caves.”
Green and gold minerals glinted in the cave’s walls as they ventured deeper into Brími, the floor beneath them growing ever warmer. At last, the caves widened into a circular space.
“What is this?” Silla asked, breathless.
The space was a strange mixture of natural and human-made. Curious puddling rocks and icicle-like protrusions were interspersed with angular stairs and curved, vaulted ceilings. Arched doorways were chiseled into the walls, and as Silla ducked her head through one, she found an alcove large enough for a family to sleep. Her eyes traced a stone-carved bench, and she guessed these were primitive homes.
“In ancient times,” said Tala, drawing Silla’s attention back to the central cavernous space, “Kopa was the beating heart of Íseldur.” Lady Tala slid her torch into a slot in the wall, and Ingvarr and his guards did the same. “These caves provided a refuge from the hard rains of the spring and the brutal cold of winter. Here, Eisa, you can see the drawings of our ancestors.”
As the last of the guards slotted his torch, bright light spilled across the cavern walls. Silla gasped. Shapes and figures were painted from floor to ceiling. Silla wandered closer to examine a simple line drawing of a prowed ship. “Our ancestors drew these?”
“We believe so,” replied Tala. “You can see the paintings are simple to start, but as you progress through the cave, the stories grow more detailed.”
Silla moved along the wall and saw that Tala was correct. Ornate, scrolling knotwork grew more common a few steps later, symbols and line drawings morphing into elaborate scenes.
“Before the Weavers existed, our ancestors carved their history into the stones. These caves are a secret long held by Jarl Hakon’s line. Protected from the Urkans upon their invasion.”
Silla could see why. The story of the Ashen was depicted in one scene. Myrkur stealing Malla, Marra, and Stjarna into the darkness of night. Sunnvald growing so angry, He shook the skies. Stardust falling down upon Íseldur, landing on the trees, the rocks, the creatures, and imbuing them with magical qualities.
Her gaze slid to a new scene, showcasing the classes of Galdra. Ashbringers wielding fire and Blade Breakers great strength, a Weaver standing before a loom. Silla studied what had to be a Shadow Hound, reflecting sun on a curious-looking shield of light, then tracked to a lone, crowned figure. The king clutched a stone in one hand, an axe in the other. Brows furrowing, Silla stared harder. The king faced off against a figure of shadows, unnatural creatures crowding around. But the king faced Him all alone as the sun shone down upon him.
