Prophecy's Promise (Prophecy of the Edges Book 1) (12 page)

Chapter 15

The suite of rooms quickly began to feel every bit as much a cage as had the prison. I was comfortable, warm, and well-fed, but my injuries were too severe to be fully Healed with the Mist. Some things the body has to do for itself. Thus, I was confined to my bed. Despite Altis’s constant assurances, I knew we only remained safe as Kael bided his time. I felt the calm stillness a trained sailor recognizes as the moment before a hurricane. The dark heat inside me didn’t rage anymore, but it did smolder, and I wasn’t sure if Kael would bring the hurricane or if I would. I longed to leave the duchy behind, to flee while Kael plotted his next move, but Altis’s faith in Kael adhering to feudal law blinded him to the reality. Kael was loyal to himself. To him, Gryshelm was an inconvenience, one that he would shed if he needed to. I knew it. Why couldn’t Altis see Kael’s duplicity, Kael’s fake smile?

Kael came the next morning with Altis, on the pretense of checking on my health. “As I have told the prince,” Kael began, inclining his head toward Altis. Perhaps I was being hypersensitive, but it struck me as odd that Kael used Altis’s political title rather than his Weaver title. “I am truly sorry for the mix up. I don’t feel as if there is anything I can do to make it up to you, but my home is your home for as long as you care to stay.”

Altis sat beside me on the bed. “After all, it was Sollet, the man that you killed, who had initially made the mistake. You've already brought him to justice. How was Kael to know?” I wasn't sure if Altis was trying to convince me or himself.

“What about the girl, Kynna, who helped him?” I asked, changing the subject.

“We've investigated and don't feel that she knew what her father was planning.” Kael responded dispassionately. “I've given her work in my kitchens as she's nowhere else to go, her only relative slain.”

“As long as she doesn't cook my food,” I said. “After all, I did kill her father by shattering their cart into tiny spears before her eyes.” I coughed to suppress a grin, and to suppress my horror that such a thought could make me grin.

Kael studied my face. He'd seen the taint of The Edge in me the day that I killed Sollet. “Altis also tells me that you are Lead Scholar Nazarie’s heir?”

“But you already knew that,” I said. “I heard you outside my cell.”

Kael did not acknowledge or deny the statement. “You still are in need of rest, so I should go.” Kael said with a snarl before bowing to Altis and leaving us.

“Please be civil,” Altis said wearily. “We are guests in his home.”

“Surely you don't trust him?”

“Not entirely, but where else shall we go while you get patched up, and, honestly, what is he going to do? I've updated my aunt to our whereabouts. There isn't any recourse for Kael except to host us as long as we choose to stay. Once we get home, I'll open a complaint, and that might even give us the ability to rein in this backwater duchy, which we've wanted to do for a long time, but haven't had the excuse.”

“And don't you think Kael knows you’ll do that?”

“It doesn’t matter. If a Prince of the Blood dies whilst in this duchy, my aunt would see to it that it is completely obliterated. Kael is keenly aware of that fact, believe me.”

I began to protest again, but Altis held up his hand. “I am your Lead Initiate and this is my ruling. As long as you are with me, nothing bad will happen to you. I promise.” He pushed a strand of hair back off my forehead but then stiffened. “I should let you rest,” he said and took his leave.

Despite Altis’s words in defense of Kael, he kept Nathan, the redheaded boy who had helped Altis and Euan confirm my whereabouts, on retainer, ready for any small chore Altis might have him attend to. Altis could have used one of Kael's houseboys, but apparently, Altis’s trust went only so far.

It was an odd thing to meld my experiences in the dungeon with the Scholar's view of this place as a bastion of knowledge. While I was too unwell to leave my bed to see the library, Euan dutifully fetched books for me. I requested all books relating to The Edge under the guise of continuing the studies I’d begun back at the Keep. But I truly hoped that in some forgotten corner in this magnificent collection of books would reside some bit of reference to Shezdon’s book, which had, fortunately remain undiscovered in my pack, safely next to the pendant Garth had given me. These were the only two things of mine that I’d taken from home and the only two things in the entire universe I cared about keeping safe.

The next week passed in much the same way. Sleeping. Reading yet another book about The Edge that held no clues about the Prophecy Shezdon mentioned, or about the White Knights. Chatting with Euan. Chatting with Altis.

Gods. Euan and Altis.

If only one had come, everything would be so much easier.

Altis aggravated me more than anyone I had ever known. But his arrogant air that practically defined everything about him seemed to dissipate when he looked at me. I could feel it. I could see it. His eyes softened, his shoulders relaxed. He was probably just being friendly. He was the Lead Initiate and a prince, to boot. What would he want with a Journeyman? His Journeyman. Hardly even a real Warrior Journeyman. No matter my title or Track, deep down, I’d always be a Scholar, and what would one of the most powerful men, politically and with the Mist, want with a bookish girl?

But with Euan I felt so comfortable and alive. The memories of him protecting me when we were children were some of the only memories I could see back to. But our paths were different now. As much as I had loved him when we were children, we weren't children anymore. I had changed over the past ten years, and so had he. Not better, not worse. Just changed.

Over that week, I dreamed. Not Mist Apparitions. But dreams that were memories coming back. I had thought my remembering was from coming closer to my village, but I was nowhere near River’s End and the memories kept coming.

Most of them were glimpses. A flash of blonde curly hair of the girl that not even Euan remembered; the smell of my mother’s lavender perfume; the sound of child-Euan screaming in terror. These glimpses haunted my dreams, making the road to recovery all that much more difficult. I knew I remembered more while asleep, but upon waking, the majority of the dreams disappeared again. Sometimes, I didn’t know if I was dreaming memories or making up nightmares. Or if they were nightmares of memories. Truth mixed with fears.

Far more than anything else, I dreamed about the night that Nazarie, my mother's sister, came to insist that I leave for the Mist Weavers. I’d heard the story countless times, but it was nothing like my dreams of the night. So much yelling. Mist Lightning coursed through the village. Someone died. Someone important.

I awoke with a jolt and hurriedly wrote down everything I could remember before I lost it again. This was true and I knew I needed to remember it.

Mist Lightning.

But my father wasn't a Mist Weaver. Only Nazarie was. But as I thought of it, I could distinctly remember more than Nazarie’s purple Mist Lightning. Was she fighting the White Knights? There had been red Mist Lightning. Beyond anything else, I knew Nazarie had come to save me. For in my dream, I felt both horror and relief.

The book held some key. There had to be some connection between what I couldn’t remember, Shezdon’s book and that damn Mist Apparition. One thing I was certain of—I couldn’t keep having Euan fetch me random books about The Edge. I needed to explore the library myself.

A tap-tap-tap at my door broke me from my thoughts. “Yes?” I called out, smoothing down my tussled hair as Nathan entered the room.

“You still look awful,” the boy told me as he closed the door behind him. “Altis wanted me to come keep you company.”

I smiled at him, but said nothing. It was going to be that much harder to sneak away by myself now. He seemed to take my silence as an invitation to speak.

“My mum's not too sure about you and all this help I’ve been giving you. I mean, what would Prince Acrovena want with my help anyhow?” The boy said. It was weird to hear Altis’s non-Weaver Title. “But she likes the queen and she don't like those Knights of the Light that Duke Kael leads around even though we live here.” He rambled. “My brother, Kevin, was killed by one. They thought he was causing trouble.” Nathan hopped up into the chair by my bed. “I mean, he probably was,” he said, swinging his legs. “But not in a bad way.”

His monologue rushed around me…I wanted to get lost in it, but I needed to figure out what was going on. “I'm going to the library.” I announced in the middle of Nathan explaining something about windy streets and apple trees. He looked at the blankets as if he hadn't realized I had legs beneath them.

“Should we wait for Euan?” The boy asked nervously.

“No.”

“I don’t think we are supposed to leave.”

“Altis wanted you to keep me company, right? Or you can stay. Either way.” I said as I shoved the blankets aside. I grimaced when I saw the cuts and bruises across my legs. I didn't want to know how bad they had been a week ago.

“Wow.” Nathan whistled. “No wonder you don't walk.”

I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Sliding down I felt aches and sores across my body ignite. I swallowed a yelp.

Nathan looked quizzically at me.

“I’m fine. Let’s get to the library. Have you been before?” I asked.

“With Euan once. I know the way.”

I followed him through a mess of hallways. The décor was not as opulent as the palace but still very full in its own right. Every corridor was covered with beautiful tapestries; although some were pretty threadbare, and became more so the closer we got to the library.

I’m not sure what I was expecting the library to look like, but this was very different from anything I could have expected. At home, the library is constantly bustling with Scholars of all levels and an army of librarians poring over literature and science. It was more than a place of learning—it was a place to meet. At home, the front of the library contained meeting couches and activities for children and adults alike. Here, everything was different. There was no open foyer; the gigantic shelves barely left enough room for the doors to swing open. The gorgeous, enormous oak card catalogue was encrusted with layers of dust. At home, it would have had a prominent location so that everyone could admire the beautiful craftsmanship. As we entered, a solitary librarian snored, his mouth wide open.

I motioned to Nathan to keep quiet as I tried to figure out the organization of the library. Euan had brought me everything he could find on The Edge, so nothing else that I might want would be with the bulk of The Edge books. Perhaps along with foreign languages? I motioned for Nathan to follow me to the southeast corner as that is where international library standards dictated for cultural books to be stored.

Behind us, the doors slammed open. “Colin! Wake up!” Kael shouted. I motioned for Nathan to duck down. The librarian snorted. I heard a small jumble of commotion.

“My Duke?” he said groggily.

“Do you know if the book
gives a Mist Marker?”

“Maybe before, but not with the weakened Mist.”

“I am sure Nazarie’s niece has the book.” Kael’s boots clicked across the floor, back and forth. “I am running out of time to prove it. We will need to kill her.”

“It will be the end of us to go against the prince!” the librarian protested.

“It will be the end of creation if she is the Prophecy’s Promise,” Kael hissed. “This is worth any risk.”

If only Altis had been here to witness Kael’s treasonous and downright delusional talk. Surly it would knock Altis’s illogical confidence in Kael’s position as a loyal vassal. Perhaps this was the conspiracy Prince Jaysen had warned me about. Kael and these White Knights are in the middle of it. Maybe Kael had seduced Nazarie or was blackmailing her and she had been too embarrassed to tell me. Prince Jaysen suspected Nazarie when the traitor had been Kael, hiding in the shadows all along.

“Nazarie nullified the Prophecy,” another voice that I didn’t recognize responded.

“I’ve seen this girl. The Edge has tainted her. Nazarie must have killed the wrong child,” Kael said. The clicking of his boots quickened. “I told her to kill both of them. Stars and planets! Why is she so stubborn?”

Nazarie killed a child? Delusional didn’t even seem to cover Kael’s state of mind.

Kael’s pacing stopped. “We need to correct Nazarie’s mistake. We must kill the girl. I would like to keep Altis alive, but I don’t care about the blacksmith or the boy.”

Nathan’s mouth formed a little o of indignant anger. I gripped his wrist and shook my head in warning. Nathan sneered, but settled down. He pursed his lips and glared. Any hint of boyishness on his face disappeared, replaced with steel cold hatred.

“The prince is obviously smitten with this woman,” the librarian said. “He may not be subdued easily.”

“So be it. We will make our move tonight. We need to gather the rest of the Knights.”

Three pairs of clicking footsteps exited the library, slamming the doors behind them. I laid my head down on the second lowest bookshelf. The scent of binding glue and aging books mingled together. Judging by the thickness of the dust that coated the books, I don’t think that anyone had moved them for many decades. I don’t believe there is anything nearly as sad as knowledge crammed into a forgotten book. Wasn’t this supposed to be the library of legend? Where thousands of books were saved from the hordes roaming during the Dark Ages? They’d been saved only to be cast aside and forgotten.

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