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After we had our fill of town, Amon led me back toward the towering stone bridge.
“Do you think you would be willing to try flying up?” He asked me. I tilted my head to take in the considerable height of the bridge. “It might be easier starting low and going high,” he smirked. “Just don’t look down.”
I jabbed him playfully with my elbow. “Asshole.” I muttered. However, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to try it. I had mastered shadow walking pretty easily. I remembered what I had said about wanting to learn to combine magick skills with hand to hand. Being able to fight from the air seemed like it would be a pretty good way to stay alive.
“Fine. Hold my soap.” I demanded, holding it out to him without taking my eyes off the bridge. He chuckled and took the small package from me, slipping it into his pocket. I glanced at him, before turning back to the bridge.
“If you let me fall, I will never forgive you.”
He slid up behind me, as he had at The Eye, and rested his hands on my hips.
“I will not let you fall.” He promised into my ear. I shuddered.
“Here goes nothing.” I closed my eyes and focused on my aura, the way I did when I called to my shadows. I found the edges easier this time, and quickly connected with the matter that made up the universe. The atoms around me buzzed and hummed with excitement. They wanted to help me, I realized. They were made of the same stuff I was. We were a team.
I barely needed to think ‘up’ before they gathered around and lifted me off the ground. I felt Amon rise up too, hands barely touching my hips.
“Look at you,” he whispered huskily into my ear, and my blood thrilled. I felt Amon’s hands lightly leave my waist, but my atoms kept pushing me forward and up. He twisted around in the air as we rose, to float before me, face to face.
I set my sights on the bridge and allowed my body to tilt in the air a bit, almost as if I were going to swim toward it.
“Yes, Raven, just like that,” he purred, floating closer to me as we continued to rise, his hands resting on my hips again. He flew backward, gently guiding me towards the bridge.
We overshot the top of the bridge slightly, so I asked my atoms to slow us down and Amon deftly guided us the rest of the way, until our feet landed on the solid stone.
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. I was shaking with adrenaline, and I was also grinning from ear to ear. Amon gripped my shoulders, his smile nearly as wide as mine.
“Excellent work, Raven.” His eyes were dancing with pride. “I knew you could do it.”
30
“The gardens are in the West Wing, and so is the library.” Amon informed me. I practiced alternating between walking and flying the rest of the way to the ancient stone structure. Instead of following the outdoor staircase I had taken with Dossidian to the training ring, we went down another small set of steps that led us into the building itself.
Inside, this part of the palace was much more refined than the East Wing. There was still a natural beauty to it, and the green moss was ever-present. However, the walls here were made of smooth stone slabs that had been rendered by daemon magic. Large arching windows filled the stone walls, engulfing the space with natural light. There were three floors from what I could see in the main intersection of this wing, and a large throne room in the center.
The cathedral ceilings made me feel as if I were in an ancient church. There was an air of magick and reverence that filled the space. The stone details and accents that had been painstakingly carved by the architect depicted what I could only assume were scenes from daemon history. A history, that I realized, I knew very little about. Outside of the story of The Origin.
Our footsteps echoed through the large, empty space. Amon led me down one of the banister lined walkways that curved around the main intersection, overlooking the throne room. He turned left, down a hallway that took us outside, to a large sprawling landing that was bursting with plants. He paused to allow me to take it all in.
The open landing overlooked the village we had just come from. We were greeted with a nearly three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the crescent moon-shaped mountain range that surrounded us. I could see all the way to Mt. Frira, and I thought that whoever’s job it was to maintain these gardens, had one of the best jobs in all the worlds.
The gardens themselves were filled with plants I both recognized and didn’t. There were fruit and olive trees, kale, carrots, and every variety of tomato. There was rosemary, thyme, and tarragon. Everything you could imagine from squat acorn squash, to tangled brambles of blackberries. The energy of the garden tickled my aura, and I felt a wave of peace wash over me.
“Amon, it’s beautiful,” I gasped. He gave me a soft smile.
“Yes. Though, I will admit, Meredith has spent a great deal of time out here since you have come to stay with us. It had been impressive before, but she has somehow made it even better.” I smiled at that. Meredith did have a special way with plants. Much like Clair had. The sadness that was never too far away crept in at the thought of Clair.
Amon sensed my shift in mood and reached out to tug my sleeve.
“Come on, there’s a plot over here we can use. Meredith has informed me that sunflowers need space.” He led me through the sprawling mountain garden to a large plot of rich soil that looked freshly tilled and watered. He reached into his pocket and handed me the small sack of seeds he had taken from my home in Toronto. With a gentle wave of his hand, he produced some small trowels.
“Here,” he said, handing me a trowel, “Meredith says they need to be planted at least six inches apart.”
I nodded. I was familiar with the procedure. I planted sunflowers every year with Clair, usually earlier in the spring than this. But now I could control the environment for myself. I didn’t see why I couldn’t use my powers to surround this little plot with the perfect growing conditions to ensure the flowers grew big and tall.
I knelt down and got to work. To my utter delight, so did Amon. He didn’t seem to care that he was kneeling in the dirt in his pristine slacks. He just fastidiously went about digging holes roughly a half inch in depth.
I suppose we could have used magick to plant the seeds, but there was something about doing it by hand that made it feel like we were truly honoring Clair.
