Piers didn’t think the voice meant the building above him.
The stones grew rougher under his feet, then gave way to packed earth. The sconces ended, though light shone from ahead. The walls narrowed, forcing Piers to shimmy through some tighter places sidewise. The entire maze of tunnels smelled musty, airless, unused for ages.
He finally stepped out of the labyrinth of tunnels into a vast cavern. Pale blue shadows flickered overhead. On and on, he traveled, circling a round room, the walkway set in spirals. Down, down, down.
A pool of water directly in the center reflected light from some unseen source.
Piers, at last, stood at the water’s edge. Moss grew on the sides of the pool. He looked up at the high walls around him, the now-tiny-appearing entrance.
Sit. Drink,the voice in his head told him.
Piers sat on the side of the pool, dipped his cupped hands into the water, and brought them to his mouth. Ah, so sweet. He’d not even noticed he’d been thirsty. Cool liquid ran down his chin, splattering against his chest.
He ran his fingers over his breastbone. No scar. “What is this place?” he asked aloud.
Swirling, nearly transparent shapes seeped from the walls, more and more and more, too numerous to count.
Somehow, Piers remained unafraid. Peace settled around him. These beings didn’t mean him harm. But wait. Someone had tried to kill him. “Am I dead?”
No, you are not,the voice in his head answered.We merely brought you here to better communicate. What form suits you best? We have much to tell you.
Immediately, an image of his uncle appeared in his mind. The voice chuckled.Good choice.
One of the fog-wraiths separated from the others, drifting toward Piers. The shapeless mist molded more solidly into the form of a man with each movement.
Piers gasped. “Uncle Lee?”
The being sat in front of Piers. He certainly resembled Uncle Lee, but he didn’t smile, didn’t offer welcoming words, or show warmth in his features.
Piers’ heart ached. “Uncle Lee. I’ve missed you so much.” What would his uncle think of the situation Piers found himself in? What would he think of Wycke, and of Piers discovering his true parentage?
“We are but a representation of the person in your mind, taking on this form to better communicate,” the illusion of Uncle Lee said.
Fuck. Piers felt a sickening lurch in his chest. “Who are you?”
The fake Uncle Lee did smile then. “We are the magic that abides in this mountain, sustaining Tirra Neu. Many of your kind refer to us as the ancestors.”
So, the rumors were true of vast pools of magic existing beneath Myrgren Castle. But why show itself to a novice? Why not the high king? “What do you want with me?”
“For you to understand.”
“I—”
“Listen, for we cannot maintain this shape long.” Though the mouth moved, the words sounded like a chorus of separate voices, all blended together.
Piers dutifully closed his mouth.
“We are the lifeforce of this realm, left behind by the gods to care for their children. Most of those children were content with what we gave them. Others grew greedy and wanted more. They weren’t satisfied living with their fellow creatures as equals and sought to use us against those they perceived as lesser.”
Yeah, some people. “You’re magic. Couldn’t you stop them?”
The being gave a humorless chuckle. “We were created to nurture and protect. The gods who created us never believed we’d need to defend ourselves, so therefore, we cannot.”
“What about others? Elves, ogres…familiars?”
“Humans are the only children of the gods who abuse the gifts we give.”
Yeah, Piers knew terrible people too. Bullies happened in both realms, apparently. “Can’t you just keep magic away from them?”
