Beside him sits Aquila, the priestess who nearly killed Dayton. She’s got her head tilted up, staring at the cavernous ceiling with a faraway look. One side of her face is still red and sagging with ruined flesh from when Farron burned her at the volcano. A few stray hairs poke out from her skull.
Quickly, I descend to the empty crystal pit, pretending to warm my hands with the radiant heat, but my concentration remains focused behind me.
“Enough, Faust! I can’t listen to this anymore,” Aquila quietly snarls. “It’s beyond me why you even care. He’s not one of us.”
“Does it matter?” Faustrius says lowly.
“Of course it matters. Did his kin treat us with fairness? With mercy? No. We were frozen and left for dead. The High Prince of Winter can rot in that cage.”
I blow on my hands and work to steady my breathing.
“No creature deserves to be kept in such conditions, even an enemy,” Faustrius says.
Aquila lets out an exhausted sigh. “It’s not a prison!”
“The menagerie is worse,” Faustrius breathes. “What you cannot control, you cage. Is that not her way?”
“She wouldn’t like you talking that way,” Aquila responds in a singsong voice.
Silence echoes between them. Up close, I can hear the faint hum of the crystals. My own breathing sounds like a roar in comparison.
Finally, Faustrius murmurs so low, I barely make out the words: “It’s concerning, Aquila.”
“The rose?”
“The rose.”
“She plans to use it,” Aquila whispers. “Change all those gobbos’ minds to jelly. They don’t know it yet.” She pauses. “You don’t think she’d…”
“No,” Faustrius says quickly. “She’ll never turn it on us. She promised me.”
“But still. All those poor gobbos.” Aquila lets out a sigh. “War is war, Fausty. We’re all players. And one day, when this is all over, we’ll see it again.”
“See what?”
I turn my head so I can catch sight of them out of my peripheral. Aquila leans over to Faustrius and grabs his arm, pointing up to the sky. “Whatever’s up there. It’s got to be beautiful, don’t you think?”
“Of course it is. You know it is, Quill. One day, we’ll walk among the clouds once more and earn back the right to fly among the stars.”
“The stars?” Aquila asks. “Oh, those sound wonderful.”
Faustrius gives a strange laugh, then knocks her on the unburnt part of her head. “You should sleep.”
Aquila stands and stretches. “I must respond to her summons. She wants to know when we’re moving the army to Cryptgarden.”
Faustrius rises as well. “Put her off. It’s bad enough you and I have to spend so much time there.”
“She’s going to bema-aad,” Aquila sings and prances off toward one of the southerly tunnels.
Faustrius walks past me, and I duck my head, busying myself with rubbing my hands above the crystals. The heat licks at my skin, but I don’t pull away.
Keldarion is being kept in Cryptgarden’s menagerie. That’s all we need to know. Because wherever Kel is, Caspian won’t be far. And wherever Caspian is, our Rose will be too.
And wherever our Rose is, trouble is sure to follow.
36
The Prince of Thorns
