The wind was loud and punishing above the trees of Stellara, but Kythel kept low near the canopies, I suspected for my sake. Any higher and it would be too cold at this time of night for me.
Still, I couldn’t help but wiggle closer to his heat. His strong hands gripped me tight. I marveled that I truly didn’t know this male at all. He could drop me, and I’d be dead in a matter of moments and no one would be the wiser for it. Everything would simply…end.
Yet…here I was. And I knew he wouldn’t drop me. Perhaps I was foolish—to trust him so easily. My father would certainly say so, if he were still here. He’d always warned me that my heart would get me into trouble, even though he’d always said so fondly.
Erzos Keep loomed closer, coming up fast. Yet I tilted my head back to look at the stars, tightening my hand into Kythel’s vest. The view up here was always better. I caught him looking at me, those sapphire eyes gleaming. It was much too loud to speak, but I gave him a small, toothless smile nonetheless.
Then we dropped, hurtling down fast. I laughed, the sound breathless, surprised, and I caught the hard edge of Kythel’s smile. Faster and faster we dropped, until theKyzairespread his wings wide to break the steep descent. A gust of wind blew my hair back, and we came to a sudden stop, the silence deafening as he lowered gently onto a cobbled path.
“Show-off,” I teased under my breath, steadying myself with his arm as he helped me regain my footing on solid ground.
An amused grunt. “That is one thing I’ve never been accused of before.”
“First time for everything,” I said, but I was too distracted by the view in front of me to take in his reaction. I breathed, “Wow.”
House Kaalium’s keep of Erzos loomed before me, a towering guardian against the inky, starry sky. I’d never seen it up close, only ever from the distance of RaanaDyaan.
The keep mirrored the grand gothic architecture prominent in the capital city of New Inverness, with its tall spires and decorative glass windows. Or perhaps of the Drovians, who preferred their dwellings to be all sharp, stark lines and towering floors.
“This way,” Kythel murmured. I felt his hand at my back, propelling me forward, and I sunk into the warmth of his touch, soaking it up like rays of the sun.
The closer we strode towards the keep, the larger it loomed. The main entrance stood proud before us, set well behind an extravagant black fountain with floating, glowing white orbs weaving in and out of a small waterfall as it tumbled into a decorative basin. The Halo orbs hummed, and I paused next to the fountain, tracking the pattern they made, before continuing.
Climbing up the stairs to the door—inlaid with silver strips of metal, much like the cottage’s door—Kythel guided me inside.
The atrium of the house was stunning. I was used to beautiful places, beautiful homes, castles, fortresses. Butthis…I had never seen anything quite like it. It was extravagant even without a multitude of expensive furnishings. On Bartu, they crammed their entryways with the most grand of their possessions, to impress and preen for their guests.
But not Erzos’s keep. It was stark. Cold, even. Quiet and still like a museum. But there was a delicate beauty in the glimmering black staircase stretched before me, winding up in a perfect circle overhead to the upper floors. The atrium was large and wide to allow for easy navigation to the higher levels of the keep, since Kylorr could simply fly upward to the open landings. In fact, I saw cutouts in the railings for that exact purpose.
Three stories above our heads, I saw a glass dome, revealing the night sky and the silvery, wispy clouds beyond.
The atrium was brightly lit from tall columns evenly placed around the entryway, light pouring out from a hovering diamond-shaped crystal on each. When I looked at Kythel, I saw him studying me.
“It’s beautiful,Kyzaire,” I told him honestly.
He inclined his head in quiet gratitude. I’d heard he liked beautiful things, after all, that he surrounded himself with beautiful things. Which made me wonder why he was spending time withme, considering I was no great beauty and had never lied to myself about that. Surely he could see that for himself.
“Oh,” I gasped out, catching sight of an object on the far wall. Something I hadn’t expected to see. I scurried closer, eager for a better view. “Is thatreal?”
“Of course,” he told me. His tone was surprised when he asked, “You know it?”
“I met him once,” I told Kythel.
“You did?” came the incredulous question. I’d surprised him again. I felt a little triumphant at that.
The artwork was a hologram, displayed within a rectangular silver frame. The lines wavered in black, flickering before solidifying, constantly changing, a moving picture. But I would recognize it anywhere.
Ver Teracer was a universally famous artist who only created landscapes from his now-destroyed planet, Tirut. The frame itself was comprised of precious metals from the planet, remnants of it. As such, only a few pieces of the artwork existed.
Kythel must’ve paid a small fortune for it.
“He attended a party on Hop’jin a few years ago, one my father was hired for. In between courses, I would sneak out into the ballroom to watch the dancing,” I told him, studying the shifting drawing. “Hop’jin dancing is very…theatrical.”
Most of Ver Teracer’s works depicted the ending of his homeworld, a product of war. This one, however, was beautiful. No destruction. No death. No pain. Just peaceful in its simplicity. A home as it had been. A meadow landscape melted into a moonrise. The moonrise became a wild sea. The wild sea became shadowy highlights on a sharp-faced mountain. The mountain melted back down into the meadow. The loop continued.
“He’s rather grumpy, but I quite liked him,” I told Kythel, shooting him a conspiratorial smile. “He told me I had a strange face, and it made my whole decade.”
Kythel’s wings rustled. He folded them against his back, leaning his shoulder against the wall where the artwork hung. “That is a high compliment indeed from an artist like Ver Teracer.”
