Ciana had never particularly cared about things like learning, but she couldfeelthe knowledge permeating the air. The entire history of this continent—of their world—was held here. She felt it in the very marrow of her bones.
“What do you think?”
She almost jumped at the question. In the awe of the room, she’d forgotten the king beside her.
“It’s…” Ciana swallowed. “I can’t find the words to describe this. It’s incredible.”
Nik chuckled. “I’m pleased you think so.” He swept his warm gaze over the archives, his people’s greatest treasure. “I sometimes forget. I’ve been coming here my whole life; it long ago lost its luster.”
“I find thatveryhard to believe.”
Nik turned his smile to her. “May I show you around?”
Ciana nodded, resting her palm on his offered arm.
The king gestured to the ground level, where the stacks of books stretched off to the edge of the crystalline dome. “This lower level holds our stories. Some fictional, some not, some a combination of truth and imagination. Anything written with the intention first to entertain is kept here.”
“Wow,” Ciana breathed out. “Is there anyone alive who has read them all?”
“Alive? No.” Nik snorted softly. “Though I am sure I have a cousin or two who have tried.
Ciana smiled at that.
Nik started forward, tugging her hand. “Let me show you the higher levels. That’s where even I can admit that this place is special.”
Ciana let him lead her down into the stacks, cutting around the edge of the rows and rows of stories and tales. They reached the base of one of the tall redwoods, a winding staircase crawling up its trunk.
Ciana tracked the steps and swallowed. She was many things, but a fan of stairs—or exercise of any kind, in general—she was not.
Niktael huffed another laugh at her expression. “I won’t force you up the stairs, Ciana,” he said. He gestured to the other side of the tree, where Ciana noticed a strange contraption for the first time. It was in essence a simple wooden box with a plain door, and around it was a complex system of ropes and wires and levers. Nik pulled open the door, gesturing her inside.
Ciana was…not convinced.
“If this is some elaborate attempt to get rid of me, Nik, then you have to know I’m not an idiot.”
Nik laughed again. “I have never once thought that about you. And I promise, this is more than safe. Don’t you trust me?”
No. “Yes.” She ignored the small voice whispering in the back of her head. Swallowing the clammy fear pooling in her stomach, Ciana stepped inside the small box, doing her best to keep her breathing even. Nik followed, closing the door behind him and pulling a small lever on the wall.
They were very close in this space—painfully close—and when the box lurched up, the ropes above them sliding over the pullies, Ciana couldn’t help but press her shoulder against the king.
It was safe. He was their king, for goddess’s sake. He wouldn’t do this unless he was sure he would survive it.
Nik chuckled again, and his warmth wrapped around her, but something about it felt wrong. Ciana couldn’t help but wish that instead of the king, she was trapped in this tiny death box with someone else. Someone who would actually make her feel safe and not simply wishing for this to be over.
She didn’t unclench her body until the box shuddered to a halt and Nik pushed open the door. She nearly jumped out, heaving her breaths on a landing constructed of simple wooden planks.
Nik touched the small of her back. She fought back the urge to flinch. He laughed again, the sound warm but doing little to settle her nerves.
“I take it you don’t have elevators in Onita?”
Ciana swallowed, shaking her head. “Is that what you call that death trap?”
“Not a death trap.” Nik smiled wider, obviously humored by her panic. “Perfectly safe. See? We made it all the way up here without an issue.”
Ciana gave a tight nod but otherwise didn’t answer. She glanced around the space built into the branches. Just like in her room, lights twinkled amongst the leaves. Plush chairs and couches faced the central space, and hallways wound through the limbs of the tree, fully laden bookshelves lining the walls.
The air was crisp but warm, the space a comforting sort of quiet.
