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What truth? I want to ask myself.
He interrupts my thoughts. “And we’ll find another solution.”
“For the dreams?” I’m surprised he’s still considering it, and try to pull my hand, but he holds it.
“For everything.”
The blue fae then comes from behind the counter, holding a tray with the three largest bowls I’ve ever seen. He puts a bowl of fish stew in front of each of us, and one with toasted manioc flour in the middle of the small table. He then returns to the counter and brings us cups and spoons.
“No talking while eating,” he rasps.
I’m pretty sure that if anyone values their life, they’d better do what he asks. This has to be the smallest tavern with the worst service in the world. But then, I’m so glad to finally eat some hot food that I’m about to forgive it all.
I take a spoon of the broth, just to taste it. Oh, wow. It’s warm, comforting, sustaining. It’s like tasting a family history passed down through seasoning. The food in the castle was never bad, but it was made in a huge kitchen. This, this is art.
I let myself be taken by the contrast of the dry flour and the broth, the softness of the fish flesh on my tongue, the taste filling my mouth, then warmth reaching my stomach. It’s satisfying and fills a void I didn’t know was there. I wonder how many unknown voids we have, hiding and waiting until we realize they exist. Voids.
I glance at Marlak, eating calmly. I think he also likes hot food, and maybe we could figure out a way to have a stove on the island and perhaps light it when he’s not home.
Home. A different warmth fills my stomach.
It’s no longer the castle; it’s the island. Perhaps I don’t need to wonder who I’m loyal to. But can I really trust Marlak, with all his secrets?
He finishes eating after me, then gives the grumpy fae some strange copper coins, and we leave the little house, back to that silent heart of a remote village.
His hand reaches for mine, and I take it, even though I know it says so much more than what I’ve allowed myself to say.
When my fingers reach his, I feel an energy moving from his hand to mine, and then I see a huge chamber, like a palace or temple, with columns decorated with sculptures of snakes and other animals, and a shallow water pool in the middle.
I turn to him. “Did you send me a thought?”
He widens his eyes and looks paler than usual. “What kind of thought?”
“A large chamber. Underground, I think. Not sure why. With huge columns.”
His chest moves down in a long exhale. I’m afraid to imagine what he was thinking I’d seen.
He hesitates and bites his lip. “There is a place, but…” He frowns. “I can’t send thoughts like that, and I wasn’t even thinking about it.” He looks at me, glances into the forest, then back at the river, and takes a deep breath. “That said, I am looking for something.” He chuckles. “A few somethings.” He swallows and turns to me. “It’s why I spent some days away. I guess you know that.”
I remember then my dream when he was poisoned and he was in an underground chamber like that, but that one was different, longer and wider, with different columns. So there are many of those places, and we’re near one of them.
Astra. A voice calls me, compels me, a voice coming from the forest, inviting me to a place where there’s power and magic and wonder. Magical voices are dangerous, and yet there’s something familiar about this one.
“Astra?” Marlak’s deep voice startles me. His gaze is intense. “You want to see the sanctuary?”
“Sanctuary?”
“The place you saw—in my mind.”
“I didn’t know what it was.”
“It’s a Tiurian sanctuary.”
I freeze. “They had sanctuaries? All the way here? I thought they lived mostly in the Krastel area.”
“There are Tiurian remnants all over the continent, and one here.”
“Can I see it?” I know it’s foolish, but it’s a piece of my past, my people. Perhaps they did horrible things, but still… To step foot in a place like that would be magical.
