Or I could keep going.
Oh Gods, I wonder where Eiras is and whether he’s all right. I left him with that dark fae. How do I know he hasn’t been killed or hurt, or…?
I frown. One mountain rises right in front of me, the slopes vertical and sheer, its peak serrated like a saw.
“A mountain shaped like a crown, or a star.”This is it, right? This is where I need to go. The Crowned Mountain.
“No, Aline, don’t! Turn around. Walk away.” Olm curses in my ear. “Let us leave, we have to go back!”
Which is how I know for sure I’m in the right place.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RIDDLES AND DOUBTS
ADELINE
I spend the night huddled against a standing rock, frozen to the bone and unable to sleep a wink, every little noise startling me and setting my teeth on edge.
Dawn breaks as I start my climb, the sky awash with colors, the mountain reflecting them in places.
It’s beautiful and terrifying, and the prospect of ascending it is daunting. I’ve never climbed rocks and sheer mountain sides before. Running is one thing. Scaling a cliff face is quite another.
No matter how strong my legs are, they will probably fail me. Climbing this steep mountain is likely to be my end, but a vague fear of Olm’s real intentions, if allowed to take over more people’s minds, keeps me going.
Having Olm hissing curses and commands in my ear isn’t helping. He seems torn between ordering me to climb back down and trying to help me not to fall.
“Shut up!” I wedge my foot into a crevasse and focus on reaching higher with my hand. Thankfully, this isn’t a sheer cliff. There is a bit of a slope to it, which is the only reason I haven’t fallen to my death yet. I can make out a ledge further up, and that’s now my immediate goal. “I’m trying not to die here.”
It’s not only my body that is struggling, though. My head is filled with the dark fae’s gleaming eyes, the panic of the flight and the concern for my family.
How didn’t I realize that Sedrig was such bad news? I may not have entirely trusted him, but I never imagined that dark fae were walking among us. I somehow thought I’d be able to tell. I thought I could figure someone out, know if they’re good or bad.
I was so wrong.
Naida was wrong, too. Knowing many stories isn’t a power after all, since I always see the pattern, the weave, way too late.
As for delivering the book to this library… I’m trying hard not to think about it just yet.
The satchel thumps against my back as I swing myself higher. This climb is never-ending. Draks swoop overhead like oversized, colorful birds. Here, so close to the rim, daylight is never too bright, and the Pillar supporting the Nine Worlds and brightening the sky seems far, too far away.
It’s like being close to the end of dreams, to the dark margin abutting on sleep or death.
“That’s a damn morose image,” Olm says. “You should think more positively if you want to make it to the top.”
“I thought,” I pant as I swing myself over a small ledge, “that you wanted me to go back.”
“Go back, not fall. If you drop and smash your skull on the rocks, I’ll rot together with your corpse.”
“Now who’s the one with the morose images?” I wheeze. “Really nice, Olm.”
“It’s meant to motivate you,” Olm says.
“Thanks a bunch. Shockingly, it’s not helping!”
The higher I climb, the easier the going gets—if you don’t look down and measure the height you’d fall from to your certain death. And all the while, my mind is busy with thoughts of Olm. Who is he? What is his story? Is it true that he can’t remember it,either? My clues are few. A dragon. A name. Magic. A desperate desire to go to the royal palace.
Finally reaching the small ledge, I rest for a while, allowing my breathing to return to normal. I’m still resolutely not looking down, through my gaze is drawn to the landscape below, the plains, the towns, the sprawl of Siris in the distance, and even further away, the faint column of the colossal Pillar supporting the sky.
