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I nod, unable to tear my gaze from the breathtaking view. "I never thought I'd actually see it, though. It's like stepping into one of her stories, and just… It’s like I can feel her here." Drawing in a flustered breath, I shake my head. “How is that possible?”
"Your connection to this realm runs deep. I mean, your mother and aunts created all of it. It’s only natural for you to feel at home here, like you’re closer to them, when they’ve had a hand in everything," he says, his voice sincere and reassuring.
“So, where do we go then?”
Brenn shrugs, looking toward the river. “I guess to the castle. Maybe the king will let us stay, considering you’re royalty.” He tugs my arm, heading toward the mouth of the river. “This way.”
I follow after him, and as we near the river, I glimpse statues arching up on either side of it. They continue all the way down it until the forest stops, turning into green rolling hills that surround a stone castle embellished with crystals, as if the structure itself was pulled from them, reaching up into the sky.
Throughout the island, even peeking over the trees are giant, iron towers, a few in the distance have dragons perched on them. They’re so small they almost look like birds from here. Even the water in the river takes on a majestic glow, like the fountain in Ashbourne.
The air smells so sweet, filled with magic, and as we work our way down the riverbed and through the tunnels that burrow through the large dragon statues dotting the edge, I start to see the villages nestled into the woods. Platforms connect the trunks, as little cottages with round doors and windows are suspended in the treetops.
Everything is so bright, sovibrant, the colors almost hurt my eyes.
Exiting the forest, the village continues, working with the land instead of carving through it. Stone structures rise from the hills, winding all the way up to the castle, while one half remains an open rolling green landscape. Some have smoke coiling from chimneys, some are houses or merchant shops. Dragons of every color soar above us, while others perch on the thatched roofs on metal spires.
People hurry about their business, never giving us more than a cursory glance as we make our way to the crystal castle, looming and opposing so high into the sky I can't see the top. The castle glimmers in the hell flame light, tinted hues of reds and oranges reflecting off its many facets, casting rainbows across the stone streets below.
The power alone in this place zings across my skin like electricity, like the way lightning rolls over Jesper’s dragon. I can feel it in my soul, filling me up until I can’t hold anymore. Though, for being so close to the hell flame, it’s not excruciatingly warmer here, but I can feel the heat from it on my skin, like a bright, cloudless day on the mainland below us.
“I can’t believe you drew all of this… It’s like we walked into the paintings on the wall.”
"Are you sure the king will even agree to see us?" I ask, the nerves creeping in the closer we get.
"Relax, Calamity," Brenn says, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You’re Megara’s daughter. How could he not?”
Maybe he’s right.
“For our sake, let’s hope. It’s not like we can just leave if it doesn’t work out.”
As we draw nearer to the castle, I can't help but marvel at the intricate details etched into the crystal walls, each one telling a story of the kingdom's history.Of the furies.
"Ready?" Brenn muses, his gaze following mine to the expansive front doors of the castle. Their surfaces are covered in carved wooden scales, laden with red crystals. “We’ll have to request an audience with the king. It might take some time before he can see us.”
The guards at the entrance eye us warily, but Brenn doesn't hesitate, striding forward with confidence.
"State your business," one of the guards demands. A humanoid man clad in black armor so intricate it puts even the golden armor the Solarian guards wear to shame. Though, it's the circling dragons on his chest plate that really stand out the most. His gaze flicks between Brenn and me.
"Requesting an audience with King Everand," Brenn replies smoothly. "Tell him it's regarding the last fury."
The guard's eyes widen slightly before he nods, disappearing into the castle. Moments later, the massive doors swing open, granting us passage. Our footsteps echo inside, and my jaw drops as I take in the skyscraping stone walls, the art hanging from them, the crystal chandeliers and sculptures of dragons that seem to soar across the room above us. It’s breathtaking.
Though, I don’t have time to look closer, I know based on the three bodies that if I had, one would be of my mother, Meg. Brenn tugs me along, keeping me moving, and we ascend a grand staircase, my heart hammering in my chest with each step.
"Remember," Brenn whispers, squeezing my hand once more. "You’ll need to bow–curtsey,whatever." He leans in closer, putting his arm around me as we fall into step so he speaks directly into my ear. “Anddo notmention the outer realm or the others.”
"I know," I whisper back, grateful for his presence. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if he hadn’t stayed with me. Granted, I’m sure I would’ve meandered toward the castle, but he knows the customs, and even though I have memorized every inch of this place, I don’t know anything about their hierarchy or culture beyond the things Meg mentioned about the furies.
We reach the top of the stairs just as a set of double doors swing open, revealing a throne room bathed in sunlight. At the far end, a man descends a smaller staircase, his every movement graceful and commanding.
His graying hair peeks from beneath his red crystal crown, his body covered in dark tunic with red accents, and decorative seams. A long velvet cloak, black as night and rimmed with fur hangs from his shoulders and when his eyes meet mine, I suck in a breath.
My heart clenches as I take in those sterling eyes, just like Loric’s and though I’m sure it’s a coincidence, that a lot of ice dragons have them, it doesn’t mean they don’t put my heart and soul in a vice grip.
The king falters too, staring at me as if he's seen a ghost. “Who might you be?” His voice is deep, commandeering, and so interwoven with power it nearly takes me to my knees.
"Your Majesty," Brenn says, bowing respectfully, his hand yanking on my dress as he curses under his breath.
