Fire & Flight, page 34
Safely inside an abandoned sitting room, Nyla sat down on the sofa and bit her lip. She supposed it didn’t matter which book she looked at first and blindly chose one of the bundles.
Wrapped carefully in the burlap, the first book was thin and worn. Nyla knew it instantly. It was the book Westley had sometimes carried with him, the one she could never get a peek at. Something inside her sparked.
After all these years, she could finally solve the mystery of Westley’s book. On the other hand, Nyla felt like she should respect the fact that he’d wanted to keep it private.
In the end, the fact that Westley had insisted she find Derek’s hiding place convinced Nyla that whatever lay hidden in Westley’s book was fair game. If it wasn’t meant for her now, it wouldn’t have been in that cavity.
With a deep breath and a silent apology, Nyla opened the tan leather book. Westley’s messy scrawl greeted her. Her eyes fell over the angular letters, and, for the first time in a long time it seemed, Nyla let out a hearty laugh.
N–
If you so much as breathe on this book, I’ll tell Ma and Pa about what happened at the manor when you collapsed on the staircase and Derek had to carry you home. You really scared us, but we kept your secret anyway, so I’m asking you to let me have this—just this one thing that’s mine and mine alone.
If you love me even the slightest bit, you’ll put this book down and walk away now before I find you (and I will find you)!
–W
She grinned and flipped the page carefully. He’d expected her to sneak a peek sooner, but she hadn’t. After all these years, Nyla would finally get to see what her brother did when he stole away with his little book and disappeared for hours. The first page was a sloppy and crude portrait of their mother. Nyla couldn’t believe her eyes.
All that time, Westley had spent his moments alone drawing. The farther into his sketchbook Nyla wandered, the better his drawings got. His lines were less shaky and depictions more accurate, or a reflection of how he saw things. He drew portraits of their family with twinkling eyes and the world as seen by himself. Nyla took it all in with a swelling heart.
About three-quarters of the way through, Nyla came to an incomplete rendering of the Woodlane Manor’s Serenmae garden during a gentle snowfall.
Nyla flipped the page only to find a blank canvas. With a strangled breath, she thumbed through the rest of the pages.
Empty.
Just like the drawing of the garden, Westley never got to complete his sketchbook.
“Oh, Westley,” Nyla murmured, “why would you hide this, especially from me?”
Nyla flipped back through the book and drank in Westley’s sketches, hoping to commit them to memory as she had her family’s portrait.
Eventually, with a heavy heart, Nyla closed Westley’s sketchbook and rewrapped it. She sucked in a long breath and eyed the other book with weary eyes.
Nyla? May I come in? Shamira’s tentative voice skirted over her consciousness.
Nyla took a deep breath. “Sure.”
She watched as the oval knob turned, and the door gently swung open as Shamira slowly came into the room.
Xander wanted me to check in and see if you needed anything or wanted something specific to eat. The pumpkie’s green eyes narrowed at the sight of Nyla’s treasures. What’s this?
“Oh.” Nyla looked down at her lap. “These are just some things I found. Um…”
Shamira nodded and approached the sofa, leaning her front paws on the soft cushion to get eye level with the book in Nyla’s hand. She nosed the book Nyla was about to unwrap and sniffed. This one’s old. I think it belongs to Astrid because I can sense her magic on it.
“Should I look at it?” Nyla’s stomach churned.
What’s the harm? It’s just a book, right? Shamira blinked nonchalantly.
Nyla tilted her head. She couldn’t argue with that. It’s not like the book was cursed or something. She peeled away the protective burlap to expose the smooth, lilac-colored cover. Her fingertips grazed the cover, and her mind started with a spark. Nyla was vaguely aware of falling back and sagging into the cushions behind her as her whole body flinched.
Her vision clouded over, and Nyla blinked. Nausea rose in her throat. Shamira called out to her, but her voice was garbled and sounded from a great distance. Nyla’s eyes fluttered shut, and her vision filled with a memory not of her own making. The image was faded and blurry, with muted voices that reverberated in Nyla’s mind.
“You all need to leave, protect the other villages. The Corvids are on a rampage, and with the magic she stole from the land, it will be near impossible to defeat her.”
A woman’s voice rang clear in the room that formed around Nyla. She had cropped, silver hair and a thin frame.
Astrid.
The memory came into focus.
Astrid leaned forward on her hands, a solid round table in front of her. Heaps of scrolls and parchment were piled or laid flat on the table.
“And you, my lady?” a man dressed in armor asked.
“I will stay here and try to stop her,” Astrid answered solemnly.
“You’ll die,” another woman, also fashioned for battle, interjected grimly.
“You’ll all die if you stay here. If I can stop her in her tracks, and save the rest of Tenebris, even if I lose my life in doing so, then so be it. That is an oath we’ve all taken, and I will not let any of you remain here only to be killed for vengeance. We all know why she is doing this, why Corvus is. Let’s not make more bloodshed than there has to be.” Astrid straightened, and while her voice was weary, she held a resolve that couldn’t be shaken. The others nodded and filed out of the room.
Astrid bent her head and whispered what could only be a desperate plea before she too left the room.
The memory skipped, and Nyla forced her eyes to adjust to the new scene.
Once she had seen the others off down the manor’s main road, Astrid returned to the foyer and stood in the center of the room. Her hands glowed with a lilac light as her pulsing magic engulfed her. Tendrils of magic extended from her aura and spread through the room, through the Woodlane Manor, like crawling vines.
The light grew to a bright shock of plum as it hugged every crevice, every corner of the manor inside and out until it was blinding to watch. Just when the light became unbearable, it disappeared.
Astrid slumped against the banister of the main staircase. She panted and used the last of her strength to hold herself up. Three heavy breaths later, she sat with a thump upon the bottom stair and drew a bottle from her pants pocket. The cork came free with a pop that echoed in the empty manor. Astrid stared at it with a grimace and hopeless, hesitant eyes. She drank it anyway and shuddered.
The image wavered and skipped, and Nyla saw a shaking, slender hand close the lid of a carved, wooden box before Astrid carried it away, and the image faded completely.
Nyla’s back arched off the cushions against her own volition. She gasped for air like a woman nearly drowned.
Nyla, hold on. Xander’s coming! Shamira’s panicked voice sounded like an alarm bell in Nyla’s head.
Nyla’s body shuddered as she sputtered for air and consciousness. In her struggle, Astrid’s book slipped from her clawed grasp. It fell to the floor with a thump, and her body went limp against the soft cushions of the couch.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and Nyla blinked against the light. She brought a shaking hand to her temple and struggled to sit up. Shamira’s eyes were wide with worry.
Maybe you should lay back down? Shamira suggested, her voice laced with uncertainty.
“I—” Nyla began, but the book moved and opened with the rapid rustle of pages. Tendrils of lilac light spiraled out from the floating book.
Nyla scrambled off of the sofa. She tripped over her own feet and fell back against its edge, her legs shaking as she watched with wide eyes as the magic unfurled, searching for something. The lilac magic wafted throughout the room and beckoned to her.
Without so much as another thought, Nyla got to her feet and moved toward the magic.
Where are you going? You should stay here and rest for a minute.
“No, I have to follow it. Astrid, she’s trying to show me something.” Nyla stumbled to the door and grasped the handle with a weak hand. After some fumbling, she managed to open it, and the thin trail of magic spilled out into the hallway.
Nyla staggered after it with Shamira by her side. She hugged the wall in an attempt to keep her balance, but the weight of her limbs became her anchors. Nyla knew it was only a matter of time before she fell. Shamira nudged her hand, and Nyla glanced down.
You can lean on me a little if you need to, the pumpkie offered.
Nyla blinked and set her hand down on Shamira’s back. The cat’s fur was soft and silky beneath Nyla’s numb fingers, and together, they slowly ambled down the hall as guided by Astrid’s trail of magic. Only a few feet later, Nyla stumbled over the carpet and fell to her knees on the plush floor.
“Nyla!” She forced her head up. Her eyes could barely make out Xander’s form rushing toward her from around the corner.
“Xander!” Nyla breathed with relief. She tried to stand, but couldn’t find anything to help pull herself up off the floor.
Xander’s booted feet came to a stop just in front of her field of spotted vision. “What are you doing? Shamira said—”
“Astrid. We have to follow the light.” Nyla stared up at him with determined, wild eyes. Xander looked over at Shamira, who nodded in confirmation, and back at Nyla.
“All right, sure. We’ll follow the light only you and Shamira can see. Sounds like a good plan.” Xander huffed as he reached his hands out to help Nyla stand.
Like a fawn just learning how to walk, Nyla stood on unsteady feet. If it wasn’t for Xander’s firm grip on her waist and hand, her knees would’ve given out again.
“Can you walk?”
“Barely,” Nyla grumbled as she leaned into him with her eyes shut tight. The hall around them spun and shifted like a top as Nyla swayed on her feet. The sensation of air rushing out from under her didn’t help as Xander swept her off her feet. “What are you doing?”
“You wanna follow a mystical light sent by Astrid to who knows where, even though you can’t walk, so I’m carrying you. Deal with it,” Xander said resolutely. Nyla swallowed the protest on her tongue, and before she knew it, Xander was telling Shamira to lead the way.
Oh, I can’t actually see what Nyla’s talking about. I was just following her.
“Oh.” Xander turned his head to look at Nyla. “Well in that case, where to?”
“You don’t have to carry me.” Xander fixed her with a reproachful, scolding look, and Nyla swallowed. “Fine. That way.”
She pointed toward the way Xander had come and directed them back to the foyer, up the main staircase, and down a wing Nyla hadn’t spent much time in if she could help it—a hall that Fate seemed determined to make her peruse. The three of them started off again, with Nyla adding directions as they went until she finally perked up.
“That room, the one right after the table on the left!” Nyla shifted in Xander’s arms and glanced at him.
“Do you know what’s in there?”
“It’s just another bedroom…I think.”
I think you might be right, but there’s something in there. It’s something of Astrid’s.
The three cautiously made their way into the room. Shamira urged the candles and fireplace to life as Xander set Nyla down on the bed.
Nyla’s head swiveled as she looked for any sign of the lilac light. With nothing in sight, her lips turned down into a frown. While the room was a decent size, certainly bigger than the first floor of Nyla’s home, she’d expected more.
Astrid had only a simple four-poster bed with a hope chest at its foot and a plush chaise lounge near the fireplace to serve as items of luxury. The only other furniture in the room was a plain desk and dressing table with a matching armoire. None of those things sparkled with magic or seemed like a decent hiding place for much of anything.
“It’s gone. The light.” Nyla glanced around as if she expected to catch a glimpse or spark of lilac. But there was nothing.
“So, we search the room then. You just stay there and rest.” Xander made his way over to the desk and pulled a drawer open.
“That’s not fair. I can help!” Nyla whined.
Xander’s right. With what you just experienced, you need your rest. Just give yourself a little bit of time. Shamira eyed her sternly.
Nyla fell back on the bed with a dramatic sigh and draped an arm over her eyes. “Fine. If it gets you two to stop acting like concerned parents, I’ll rest up a minute.”
Xander chuckled, “That’s the spirit.”
Nyla listened as Xander and Shamira rummaged through every surface of Astrid’s chamber. Xander hummed quietly under his breath. Whatever the melody was floated over to her from somewhere behind where she lay. A door clicked open, and the rustle of fabric reached Nyla’s ears next.
“What do you think of this?”
“Of what?” Nyla moved her arm and opened her eyes. An upside-down Xander beamed down at her, a dress held aloft in one hand. She turned onto her stomach and stared at the emerald gown in disbelief. Nyla pushed herself up and sat back on her heels, still not believing the gleam of pride in Xander’s eyes as he looked from her to the dress. She reached out and pinched the delicate lace of the skirt between her fingers.
“You don’t like it?” Xander’s eyes dimmed.
“It’s beautiful, but…” Nyla bit her lip and tilted her head. “I don’t think we’re looking for a dress.”
“Maybe not, but it brings out your eyes.” Xander replaced the dress in the armoire and sat down on the edge of the bed.
If you two are done discussing fashion, I think I found something, Shamira piped up from beside the dressing table.
“Is there a book of spells in there or something?” Xander studied both the table and Shamira with quirked eyebrows.
Better. Nyla, I need you to focus your magic, let it flow through you, and touch the mirror.
“I thought I needed to rest,” Nyla quipped as she stumbled over to the vanity. Xander snickered behind her. Shamira fixed both of them with a glare and tutted, but otherwise remained silent.
Nyla took a deep breath and closed her eyes. With each steady and calm breath, her muscles loosened, and soon a comforting warmth spread throughout her body. When her fingers began to tingle, Nyla opened her eyes and reached a hesitant hand out to touch the mirror. Her hand glowed with the faintest of lilac energy, and when the tips of her fingers brushed the surface of the mirror, the wall and attached vanity creaked open.
A set of steep, dusty, and cobweb-covered stairs led the way toward what must’ve been the hidden room Shamira had found in the attic. The hair on the back of Nyla’s neck stood on end, reminded of the presence of her two companions as they came to stand beside her.
Xander whistled lowly. “And here I thought we’d be eating lunch soon.”
Nyla glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “And here I am thanking the stars above that this didn’t end like how touching Astrid’s book did.”
“Astrid’s book?”
Nyla went exploring on her own and found one of Astrid’s things. It seemed too personal to be a record or something of that nature.
“You rat!” Nyla burst.
I beg your pardon!
“You did what now, Nyla?”
The three of them stood staring at each other. Nyla sent a nervous glance toward an overly concerned Xander before her gaze simmered at Shamira’s indifference.
“So, we have a lot to talk about then, but first things first: where’s that book now?” Xander asked.
Downstairs, fifth room on the right, Shamira answered matter-of-factly.
“I’ll go back and get it then. No way am I going to leave it in a place where Dinora could get to it. Until we figure out who’s who, whatever we find stays with us if we can help it.” Xander made for the door.
“Can you grab all the stuff around the sofa? I don’t want to forget anything.” Nyla chewed her lip, half focused on Xander and Westley’s abandoned sketchbook while the other half of her consciousness eyed the staircase leading to who knew where.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you two up there.” Xander stepped over the threshold of the door and disappeared from sight, only to poke his head back into the room. “And be careful.”
Nyla cracked a smile and shrugged. “What could possibly go wrong?”
Xander glared at her and started off again. As Xander’s footsteps faded down the hallway, Nyla was forced to stare up and into the hidden space. Warily regarding the uneven staircase, she shrank at the insecurity mounting inside of her.
“There’s…there’s nothing dangerous up there, that you can sense, right?” she asked Shamira.
Not that I can sense. Shamira brushed past Nyla and started up the worn stairs. And if this is the room I believe it to be, then there is nothing here that can harm us at all.
Wordlessly, Nyla followed after the cat. Her nose crinkled as she breathed in the stale, dust-laden air.
Nyla placed one foot on the landing before the turn in the narrow staircase and gasped, “It’s back!”
The wisp of lilac magic led the way up the stairs. She pushed her way ahead of Shamira in the tight space and darted up the rest of the staircase. Nyla was blind to the cramped and cluttered room around her as she eagerly followed the lilac trail to the mirror hung on the opposite wall.
“This is it?” Nyla murmured.
Why would the magic lead her here? She pursed her lips. Maybe she needed to touch it with her magic for something to happen like she did with the vanity in the bedroom below. Transfixed, Nyla reached a trembling hand toward the smooth glass.
