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Something painful twisted in my chest, and I pushed it away, shaking my head.
Only the mission mattered. Somewhere on the Isle was a relic more dangerous than the one in Karemi. I needed to do whatever it took to locate and turn it in to Frexin.
Even if it meant shelving my anger toward the Fae prince for the time being.
Forcing a deep breath, I pushed back the covers and stood. Then I slipped a fresh shirt and pants on and twisted my hair into a simple bun.
The first step was getting some food to satisfy my rumbling belly and then meet whoever was waiting downstairs.
After that, I could find Jaiel and figure out just how far off track we were.
Taking one last look in the mirror, I took a slow, measured breath and walked out of the room.
Red stone walls extended down the hallways to my left and right, and carved stone stairs at the end led down to what I assumed was the lower floor. Hells! Even the ceiling was made of that same red stone. It was a stunning explosion of color and new architecture.
Curious, I strode down the hallway to the stairs, running my fingers along the rough walls as I walked.
They led to a landing with a small window. As I reached the landing, I froze.
Outside were enormous cliffs of red, yellow, and orange striated sandstone. Pillars had been carved into the cliffs, and rounded doors and windows were scattered across them like little eyes peeking out from the bright backdrop.
Holy hells! Was the entire village carved into stone?
"Ahh. I guess Liam didn't tell you much about our home, did he?"
"No. Eli —" I caught myself. Not Eli. The Eli I knew was dead. "— Liam didn't."
I turned to see Eli/Liam's grandmother standing at the base of the stairs. She smiled up at me, dish cloth hanging from one hand.
"Your home is stunning," I said, motioning to the stairs and the scene outside the window.
She shrugged. "This place has been here since long before the Twisting — or The Fall, as you mainlanders call it. Perhaps you'll be able to stay and look around? It's a beautiful, if somewhat empty, stronghold of late." She gestured deeper within the house. "Plus, based on what I saw earlier … it might do Liam some good to have you around making his life hell." She winked, and I fought the urge to run as those raging emotions surged inside me.
Throat tight, I grunted noncommittally.
Smiling, she gestured for me to follow. "Come say hi while we finish lunch." Then she disappeared around the corner.
I descended the final steps and rushed after her, trying not to be distracted by all the artwork and shelves of books adorning the walls.
What I wouldn't give to read them all …
We passed through several more turns before finally emerging into a larger room. It was warmer than the rest of the house, and the familiar rich herby scents permeating the air made my mouth water.
A woman stood over a wooden table, slicing a loaf of fresh bread. Her black hair was coiled tightly in a bun atop her head. A slight man with a tightly spun mustache stood behind her, his hands resting on the woman's hips, lips curved in a heart-achingly familiar smile.
My heart lurched.
"Mr. and Mrs. Harlsted?" The words were out before I could stop them, and the couple looked over at me.
Two long years had passed since we last spoke, and my eyes prickled as I stared at their familiar faces. They were older — grayer — but still the same.
Mrs. Harlsted's smile dropped, and the knife she was holding clattered to the table as she rushed over. "Kaiya — oh, my dear!"
I was wrapped in her warm hug before I had a chance to think.
"Kiddo, you're awake!" Mr. Harlsted's voice came from behind me, and then his arms were wrapped around me, as well. "Mrs. Harlsted was growing worried when you weren't waking up. And that nephew of ours — he's been a mess. Although it's hard to tell now that he's gone all stone-faced. We told him you had to feel to grieve, but does he ever listen to us? Of course not. Hopefully, you can help him now that you're back."
Squished between the two of them, with the smell of fresh bread wafting, my heart melted.
