Noc
We rode our Zeelahs hard for days, only resting when absolutely necessary. At some point, the endless, frostbitten plains had given way to dusty-red, claylike earth. Large boulders and small mesas dotted the otherwise barren expanse. We were tired and stretched thin, so when the Gaping Wound came into view late last night, we elected to make camp and rest before attempting to reach Tyrus’s Ruins. Now, in the early morning hours, it was easy to see why.
A thin fog hung over the ground, stretching all the way from our tents to the jagged, open canyon before us. It cut through the earth like a lightning bolt and stretched on as far as the eye could see. No one knew how deep the canyon ran. Those who ventured into its depths never returned. And smack-dab in the middle of that terrifying death trap was a lone butte. Its sheer face made it near impossible to scale, which meant the only way to access the ruins waiting on the center of the plateau was by a single bridge. A simple wood-plank structure with rope railings, no less.
With a quiet sigh, I brought my attention back to my family. We all sat around a dying campfire, tin mugs with rapidly cooling coffee in our hands. Ozias poked at the coals to keep the flame alive while Calem glanced between Fig and the horizon. So far, we’d gone undisturbed in our travels. But that didn’t mean I was eager to have Leena send her Gulya back to the beast realm.
Leena let out a wordless hum as she worried her lip.A Brief History of Wilheimlay open in her lap, and she gently leafed through the pages as she devoured the book’s contents. I couldn’t help but smile. Her dedication to her people,allher people, was inspiring. She’d only just agreed to become queen, and here she was poring over Wilheim’s history in order to better understand the people she’d soon govern.
Gently, I brushed a lock of hair off her cheek. “How’s it coming?”
Her brows creased. “Fine.”
“Can I clarify anything? Believe it or not, that bookisbrief. There are bound to be details missing.”
“Like with the ruins?” She set her mug down and held her place with one finger, flipping to a different page toward the back of the book. “There’s not much in here, only that there are five sacred sites—one for each mage. That, and the text explicitly states only royals are welcome here.”
“Which we knew.” I took a sip of my coffee. “You probably won’t find anything else in there about it.”
“Right.” Leena’s frown deepened as she scanned the lettering.
Ozias glanced up from the fire. “Something up?”
“No. I don’t know. It’s just…” She sighed and finally craned her neck upward, but her gaze was faraway as if she were still parsing together the text. “Charmers only know of these sites because of our beasts, and for the most part, we avoid them.”
Calem cupped his chin. “Why?”
“Because of the beasts that linger there. Think about it.” She closed the book only to touch her own bestiary. “At Nepheste’s Ruins, we found a Gyss. At Oslo’s a Drevtok. And we found a Nix Ikari at Silvis’s Ruins. They’re all dangerous.”
“Well, Reine, sure. But Tok and Winnow?” Calem shrugged.
My stomach hardened. “Winnow’s magic is dangerous. The way she twists her words…” I shook my head, remembering how my Gyss had granted my wish. She’d successfully removed the decades-old curse plaguing my existence, but doing so had come at a great cost—Leena. Wynn, her former lover and Council member, had stolen her and charmed her, turning her into his puppet. Even now, the memory of her clouded eyes and somber, monotone voice still made my fists clench. “There are more powerful things than might.”
“And Tok is young. In a few years’ time, who knows how strong he’ll be.” Leena shook her head. “The point is, unless it’s absolutely necessary, we don’t visit these sites.”
“You think there’s something there?” Ozias looked over her head to the lone butte housing Tyrus’s Ruins. A gust of wind rushed through the canyon, rattling the bridge and chasing away the last of the morning fog.
“Yes,” she hedged. Clasping her hands together, she met my gaze. “Is there anything we need to know about Tyrus’s Ruins? Anything about the ritual itself?”
A memory bubbled to the surface of my mind, the same one I’d experienced just before meeting Silvis’s spirit at the last ruin site. My younger self, sitting upon my father’s knee and recounting the singsong meant to teach young royals about ascension.
“The first Welcomes,
while the second Questions.
After the third Realizes,
the fourth Blesses,
and ascension is granted
when the fifth Bows.”
I spoke the words aloud for them to hear, then set my cup on the ground. “Tyrus will bless my claim. It should be fairly straightforward, now that I’m not resisting the gods’ wishes.”
She picked at the hem of her sleeve. “That’s it? Nothing about beasts?”
“No.” I gripped the back of my neck. “But Wilheimians have never really known anything about beasts other than that they exist. Why? What are you getting at?”
