A Crown of the Gods, page 25
“Exactly.”
Cas ducked into her room and grabbed a hooded cloak, a Mimic-kind crystal—just in case—and then sent word for one of her more trusted soldiers to gather a few more armed bodies and meet them outside the main gate.
They were stopped at that gate, however, by several guards who refused to let them pass.
The scene unfolding was borderline chaotic—soldiers funneling in and out of the palace grounds, people scrambling to obtain orders, everyone trying to talk over each other.
Finally, Cas grabbed one of the higher-ranking guards, pulled him off to the side, and demanded an explanation.
“I’m afraid it’s not safe for you to head out into the city this evening, Your Highness,” said the guard.
“Not safe? What are you talking about?”
“Disturbances in the Market and Edge districts. And the unrest’s spilling over into other places—getting too close to the palace. Best you stay behind these walls until everything is settled again.”
“Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?” Cas’s irritation was more with herself than the guard.
What else had she missed while she was distracted by the past?
The guard fumbled for words. Before he found them, a woman in well-worn armor passed through the gate, caught sight of Cas, and headed over. She gave the guard a pointed look—her hazel eyes sparkling in the setting sunlight—and dismissed him with a nod.
Elayne Caster was her name, and she was one of the last soldiers Varen had bestowed with the title of General before he’d left town. She was the daughter of a revered soldier who had previously served the royal family, though she had little love to spare for the reign of Anric de Solasen—unlike her predecessor, apparently.
Cas didn’t know anything about that predecessor, but now that she honestly looked at Elayne, at her tall stature, her heavily freckled skin, the waves of light copper hair …
She looked like she could have been the daughter of the woman Cas had seen in one of Varen’s memories—the one who had challenged Anric about the Antaeum Points.
Or was it her imagination?
The past bleeding into the present yet again?
She took several deep breaths, picturing each of her inhales pulling that memory down a little farther. She could sort these things out later.
She met General Caster’s stern gaze and said, “What is this I’m hearing about riots in the city?”
“Not quite riots yet, Highness. Just some extra unrest. We have it under control at the moment, I assure you.”
“Unrest over what, precisely?”
The general glanced over her shoulder, as if she was concerned that unrest might catch up with them as they spoke. “They’re uneasy because of the minor earthquakes that have been plaguing the Bloodstones these past days. One strong enough to cause some damage struck a few hours ago, I’m told. Word is spreading out from the foothills villages that there’s something unnatural at work, and they wonder if it’s connected to the …well, unnatural turn of events we’ve had at the palace recently.”
Nessa made a face. “They believe their new Queen is somehow responsible for these disasters?”
“Not exactly. But …the word is that such disasters never happened while Varen was in charge.”
“That’s absurd,” Nessa argued. “Plenty of worse things happened while he was in charge. And everything has changed now. It isn’t Cas’s fault if—”
Elayne held up her hand in a gesture for peace. “I agree. But the people are getting scared and confused, and they just want someone to blame.”
Nessa still looked disgruntled, but Cas was getting better at letting this sort of blame hit and roll off her. So she simply cleared her throat and asked, “How bad was that latest quake?”
“Early reports suggest no casualties, but …” The general hesitated. “That might change once they start digging things out of the fallen rock. There have been alleged sightings of the Mountain God too.” Another pause, heavy with unspoken questions. “I’m not sure I believe it, but …” She trailed off, as if waiting for Cas to confirm that she was right to not believe it.
But Cas stayed silent. Her weary mind had somehow managed to dig up an older conversation—one from when the Storm and Moon Goddesses had first visited her in this palace—and now she remembered something Elander had said. The God of the Mountain has long been close to the deities of Fire and Ice. He’ll go with them, if forced to pick a side …
All their fears seemed to be coming true, one disastrous day at a time.
General Caster cleared her throat. “Either way, we’ll keep things under control,” she assured them. “Once we’ve established a safe perimeter around the foothills, I’ll report back to you myself.”
“Establish it tonight,” Cas ordered. “And then assemble a guard to accompany me before the morning—because I intend to ride up to the mountains and see the damage for myself. We’ll leave at tomorrow’s first light.”
Surprise briefly registered in the general’s eyes, but she dutifully masked it and gave a slight bow of her head. “Of course.”
Cas dismissed her, and once she was out of sight, Nessa gave her a sly smile.
“What are you looking at me like that for?”
Nessa shrugged, still grinning. “I’m still getting used to you ordering people around using your queen voice.”
“I do not have a queen voice.”
“You do. I like it though.”
Cas laughed, and then Nessa proceeded to mimic that supposed voice, making them both break into even louder laughter and earning them several curious stares.
They quickly stifled their amusement and headed back into the palace.
“Not the circumstances I would prefer, but it will be nice to get outside of the city tomorrow,” Cas commented, pausing at the door and glancing back at the gates one last time.
“As long as you’re careful,” said Nessa, hugging her arms against a sudden gust of cold wind.
“You’re in charge while I’m gone, all right?”
“Is that an order from the Queen?”
Cas mirrored her crooked smile from earlier. “It is. And you’ll follow it, if you know what’s good for you.”
Nessa pulled the door open and bowed her inside. “As long as you’re ordering it in that tone, how could I say no?”
A SHORT TIME LATER, Cas made her way up to her room with plans of going to sleep early. If she was going to be traveling through the mountains in the morning, she needed to at least attempt rest.
But once she was alone in that room, the morning seemed …distant. A hundred other problems seemed to exist between this moment and the moment she planned to leave—how could she sleep?
She stood by the window, pondering this and watching all the people scurrying around the palace grounds. The city was too far away to see clearly, but there seemed to be a brighter than normal halo glowing around the vicinity of it. Too many lights still burning. Too many people still awake. And movement …so much movement around the palace grounds between the harried guards, anxious soldiers, curious courtiers …
We have it under control, General Caster had told her.
But did they?
She felt back in control of herself, at least. The break she’d taken from unearthing memories this evening had been for the better. Her mind felt clearer than it had in days—even in spite of her exhaustion—and she felt another surge of gratitude toward her friends for this.
She was still sore about Zev’s pickpocketing, however.
Until she reminded herself that he hadn’t taken all of the crystals.
There were a few of them that radiated a brighter red than the others—those ones that she suspected were more potent. She had stashed those away in a hidden passage just across the hall, with plans to work her way up to using them. The key to that passage was stowed beneath a book that she’d tucked into the smallest, least conspicuous shelf in her room.
She collected the key, and she absently tossed it between her hands, pondering some more.
If she didn’t use those most potent crystals now, then when?
If the Mountain God himself was walking freely in her kingdom, it was only a matter of time before worse things followed him. She needed to figure out how to deal with those worse things. And she had been getting closer. Every memory she saw was another piece collected toward the bigger picture. She felt as if she’d been climbing a mountain and getting closer and closer to the summit … and she would be able to see everything if she could only keep climbing a little longer.
She only had six days left before those leaders they’d summoned from other realms began to arrive.
She wanted a better plan before then—more knowledge to share, more answers to give her potential allies.
Enough.
She was still so desperate to make sure she was doing enough.
So she crept from her room and quietly stole her way across the hall, toward what appeared to be a mere storage closet. Once she pushed past boxes and assorted odds and ends, she came to the smaller door that her key unlocked.
The passage on the other side was dark and smelled of dust and stale, forgotten things. She assumed it had once been utilized by servants to move discreetly in and out of rooms, but now it was closed off after only a few feet.
The crystals were among the boards that blocked the path, tucked away in a box made of special jobas wood that further suppressed any energy they might have been giving off.
She plucked two of them from the hiding place and then walked as casually as she could back to her room.
It happened with alarming quickness after that.
One moment she was staring at the closed door of her room. The next, she had locked that door. Then she tiptoed into the washroom. Locked that door too. She took one of the crystals from her pocket and clenched it in her fist, studying the pattern of scarlet swirled over its center.
The justifications came easily; she slipped down into them with trepidation that quickly gave way to relief, like easing into a hot bath.
Elander was still gone, as was Laurent.
Zev was likely still too annoyed to bother with her.
Nessa was busy making plans with Rhea, and it had been Nessa’s suggestion that Cas head to bed early, so it was doubtful she would disturb her.
Cas was alone, and as long as she was trapped within the walls of this palace, she was going to make use of her time.
The memory overtook her within seconds of reciting the spell. It was getting easier and easier to fall into them, and it was beginning to feel good when she fell—at least, at first. Like coming home after a long trip; everything seemed fresh yet familiar, and she saw only the good when she first stepped through the door.
This was the youngest version of Varen she had seen yet. Four years old, perhaps, though his still round, babyish face wore an expression that seemed out-of-place on someone so young—it was too somber, too serious.
But why?
The memory was not immediately clear. Grey fog surrounded Varen as he buried his face against his knees. It rolled in and out of the space around him, as though this was a memory he wanted to rid himself of, but—like the waves of a restless sea—it was too powerful to stop.
Finally, Varen lifted his head, and the fog rolled away, revealing a hazy image of the stately parlor he was cowering in. The vision quickly slid, focusing on a wine-colored door that seemed miles away.
And there was Cas herself, standing in the doorway with fear shining in her eyes.
It still was not immediately clear what had frightened either of them. The only thing that was clear was …her. Her, with her gangly limbs swinging and her auburn hair flying out behind her as she ran to Varen’s side and positioned herself in front of him. Protecting him?
From what?
The memory had been largely muted up until this point, but now she heard pounding heartbeats. Felt them, almost. Varen’s? Hers? In the past or present? She couldn’t tell.
Then came a growl.
Brother and sister alike lifted their heads toward the sound. The fireplace blazed so brightly it obscured most of the room’s details, but the light was soon swallowed up by twisting strands of dark energy.
Those dark shadows …
Horror jolted through Cas’s chest as she realized what had just taken place here.
The shadows were forming the outline of a wolf.
The memory skipped before it fully took shape, and suddenly Cas was watching her younger self drop to the floor with her brother, holding her breath as she gathered him up in her arms.
She wanted to look elsewhere. She wanted to escape. But her vision was tied to Varen’s, and it wouldn’t shift the way she wanted it to. It kept her hostage, holding as tightly as five-year-old Cas held onto her brother.
Varen peeked through her embrace, and in that moment the edges of the memory sharpened again, narrowing on the image that Varen apparently still held clearly in his mind, even eighteen years later—
The Queen lay dead on the floor behind her children, her body leached of all color and bent at odd angles.
Leave. You have to leave this memory. Now!
Why was she still here?
She never felt entirely in control of her body during these memory spells, but this was worse—it felt as if someone had wrapped weights around her wrists and ankles to tie her down and keep her here. It was the same sort of paralysis that often gripped her after she woke from her nightmares. She was neither awake nor asleep. She was entirely at the mercy of the images playing out before her, until finally, her mind could make sense of nothing more.
Those images shifted and spun away, and she welcomed the darkness that overtook her.
CHAPTER 22
A LOUD BOOM OF THUNDER JOLTED CAS AWAKE.
Her eyes stayed tightly shut as she curled into herself, her old anxieties surrounding storms resurfacing. Her heart pounded. Her palms itched. Another boom of …no.
That wasn’t thunder, was it?
The door.
Someone is trying to break through the door.
A moment later, they succeeded. There was a sound of splintering wood and the metallic ping of a lock breaking, and then the door swung open with a loud creak.
Two people stood in the entrance to the washroom. Two blurred figures that Cas didn’t recognize right away. They both raced to her side, their identities becoming clearer as they drew closer.
Nessa reached her first.
Elander had made it to within a few feet of her and then paused, distracted by something. Analyzing the scene. Sensing the magical residue that hadn’t had time to clear, most likely.
He knelt and picked up something from the floor—something that glittered in the light of the low-burning lantern hanging beside the sink.
“Damn it,” Cas heard herself whisper.
Nessa shivered a bit as she looked over Cas’s appearance, and her brows knitted together as she summoned magic to help. And the warmth of her magic did help—but it wasn’t enough to fully erase what Cas had seen. To allow her to fully come back.
Cas struggled to sit up.
Elander’s attention had shifted entirely to her now. She didn’t mean to lock eyes with him, but that intense, questioning gaze of his was difficult to look away from.
Nessa’s touch on her hand made her jump. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Cas said automatically.
Nessa’s gaze traveled, uncertainly, between her and Elander.
“Could you maybe just …just give us a moment alone, please?” Cas asked.
Nessa hesitated, but eventually nodded and backed slowly out of the room.
Cas managed to avoid Elander’s gaze this time by taking in her surroundings instead. A glance at the window told her it was still the middle of the night. There had been a bowl perched on the edge of the tub—another container of perfumed flowers, which the servants seemed determined to make sure she always had on hand whenever she was ready to bathe. She must have hit the bowl while in the throes of memory, because it now lay in pieces on the washroom floor. There were drops of red scattered amongst the shards.
Blood.
She fought the urge to recoil from the sight.
She felt her way along her arms, her neck, and eventually up to her head, where she finally found it—a section of hair that was wet and sticky, and a few strands that were already dried and stiff. The feel of it triggered a wave of nausea. But even more concerning than this blood was the blood in the center of the crystal Elander held.
She didn’t remember dropping it. But that was clearly what he had picked off the floor, and she thought he might break it, as tightly as he was holding it. A similar tightness took hold of her throat, making her breaths turn shallow and trapping her words inside.
Finally, he broke the silence in a voice that was oddly, unsettlingly calm. “Is this what you’ve really been doing while I’ve been away?”
“Among other things.” She tried to get to her feet. Her knees buckled. She caught herself against the side of the tub, but she couldn’t push herself back upright. Her limbs refused to cooperate. Everything was numb, and she ended up sliding down and landing in an awkward, crumpled position among the blood and broken glass.
Elander was there in the next instant, kneeling beside her and carefully lifting her into his arms.
She wanted to resist, but she still felt too disoriented, so she allowed herself to be carried and laid into her bed. She closed her eyes and waited for the room—and her thoughts—to stop spinning.
“Blood magic.” Elander’s voice was still calm, but an iciness had crept into the words. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize this for what it was? That I wouldn’t be able to feel the lingering energies of the spell you used?”
“You’re back earlier than I expected. You weren’t supposed to see—”
“Why would you hide this from me?”
The slightest attempt at movement made her head throb. She gritted her teeth against the pain. “Isn’t it obvious?”
