—Morveth
Something chilled her to the marrow. This Morveth, a Shadowblood of all people, had sent a warning to the Lightborn about the ball where they would be ambushed and massacred. He was trying to save them, strange as it was. And they had clearly not heeded his warning…
Or perhaps they never received it. Why else would it be tucked away here, hidden in a decaying section of the library? Unless someone had hidden it here to keep the warning from ever reaching the Lightborn king.
But why had it called to her? What did it matter now?
She placed all the books on the floor back on the shelves as best she could remember their order, keeping the note folded in her free hand. Then she returned to find her rune book. When she found it, bound in dark red leather, she tucked the letter away between its pages and carried it back up to her room.
Swathed in a heavy blanket to fight off the autumn chill, she shifted through the pages, quickly scanning the meanings of various runes and their meanings, hoping to find a match for the mark the Woods had given her when it’d drawn out the patterns of her Shadowblood veins into tree-like lines and reaching roots. All Shadowbloods were said to have had black veins somewhere on their bodies to mark their tainted blood. But she’d never heard of the veins taking the form of a symbol.
Near the middle of the book, a section on binding and confining magic caught her attention. She slowed her reading, examining each category of symbols, searching for something that mirrored what marked her skin. But each one seemed so rigid, so crude in its form and simplicity.
The mark on her arm was nothing like them. It might as well have been alive, with its subtle violet sheen and its intricate design. It spread like a living thing, black lines branching outward like the roots of a tree driven deep beneath the skin, each line tapering and twisting as if it had grown rather than been carved. The sharpest angles lay in the way the two end tree roots spread outward from the center one, almost like bird wings, before swooping down to coil in fluid, delicate lines across her skin. As though the Shadows had chosen their own shape, and left a hidden meaning buried beneath it.
She lowered her arm, unsettled. Whatever she was, whatever secrets marked her, she was no closer to understanding it than before.
As her eyes began to grow heavy from lack of sleep, she yawned, the words beginning to blur on the page before her. She stopped to stretch and rest her eyes, shuddering from the morning cold. The window had been somewhat repaired, but the draft still snuck in on windy days. She looked down again, determined to push through her tiredness and continue. As she turned another page, the echoes of footsteps in the stairwell drew her attention to the door she'd left open. Within seconds, Asterious stood in the doorway, drawing a breath as he leaned on the doorpost. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough.” Caramyn said, not even looking up as she continued flipping through pages.
He took two steps into the room. “I grant you freedom of the entire castle, yet you choose to stay up here.” He purred.
She pulled her blanket close around her, shifting to hide the book pages from his sight. “It’s just that it’s freezing in this castle, and I’m too cold to move.”
The prince eyed the blanket wrapped around her, then glanced back at the fireplace behind her. “Have you used the fireplace? I’m sure it would help.”
“What a novel idea.” Caramyn shrugged with a playful glance. “It’s out of firewood if you haven’t noticed.”
Asterious walked over to inspect the stony hearth. “Indeed,” he cooed.
Turning around, to face Caramyn, he sat down beside her on the floor, his long black coat trailing on the floor. "What are you reading?"
"Nothing important for now. I was just finishing up actually." She closed the book, mindful of his glance down at the pages.
“Then…would you like to join me to get more firewood?”
Caramyn eyed the prince at her shoulder. “You? Firewood? Who's going to carry the axe?"
Asterious rolled his eyes, leaning in towards her. “Guess we'll find out if it counts or not. I haven't tried an axe yet.” He chuckled. "And if not, it'll be a nice change of pace to go for a ride anyway. I think we could both use a little fun before we set out tomorrow and head towards imminent death and darkness.”
“Alright, fine.” Caramyn shoved the book away. “I suppose the fresh air could do us both some good.”
“It will. We can ride to the cliffs by the sea. It's quite the view by horseback.” Asterious practically leaped to his feet, and Caramyn couldn’t help but feel a warm prick of endearment at his excited reaction. “I’ll have the horses readied. Meet me in the courtyard in twenty minutes.”
When he had retreated back down the tower stairs, she unraveled herself from the blanket and readied herself for a ride. Perhaps it would do her good to give her mind a break from forbidden runes and secret letters.
29
Self-Sufficient
Caramyn
The fall air was crisp and bitter on her skin, but the beauty of the leaves in their fiery arrays of gold and red made the cold's bite easier to ignore. A velvet midnight blue cloak draped around her, lined with thick fur that warded off the chill. She reached down to pat Frasya’s neck, sliding her hand underneath the horse’s thick mane to warm her hand.
For the first time since she'd arrived, she would get to explore the side of the castle facing the great waters, and it secretly thrilled her. Their horses carried them at a brisk walk, crunching leaves beneath hooves as they weaved through the shallow forest that separated the cliff's edge from the rest of the landscape. Asthey neared the end of the trees, a small herd of deer stopped their grazing and frolicking to look at them, on high alert. With a twitch of its tail, one deer took off, bounding away into the thick of the woods, and the rest followed. Caramyn had never witnessed so many in one place before. In the Shadow Woods, they were a rare prize to come across when hunting, and it was always a lone deer. She couldn't have imagined such an abundance of prey in that dark place, and now seeing this vibrant forest bursting with life, she understood why. Where the Shadow Woods had always been smothered by a veil of haze and looming evergreens like a weight on the soul, this forest was a parade of colors amongst widely spaced branches that left large openings to the sky, like open portals to freedom.
Nocthar trailed along, fluttering from branch to branch and cawing periodically.
