Page 23 of Memory of Ashes

The land looked dull and sick, a barren wasteland dotted with ruins she longed to explore. Was the land’s barren state related to the chrysonium?

Ruven saw her from a distance and joined her on the ramparts. “Bored?” he asked.

She nodded. Ruven had become something like a friend—or the closest thing she could expect under the circumstances.

“Come on, I’ve got a game to show you.”

“A game? I didn’t realise you had anything even slightly entertaining here.”

He took her to a room, if she could call it that, on the fifth floor at the back of the fortress. It was more like a sheltered balcony, with vast open windows overlooking the sea and a round fire pit near the edge, its flames dancing high in the wind.

“What is this place?” she asked. She never expected to find something like this here in this cold and dismal fortress.

“We call it the Viewpoint, mostly because it’s a good view.” He grinned. “It’s just somewhere to relax.”

There was a stone table surrounded by benches. Ruven gestured for her to sit. He walked over to one end of the room where shelves were lined with glass bottles.

“Drink?” he asked.

Amelia nodded. She didn’t know what fae liquor would taste like, but she was getting pretty tired of water.

He poured a golden liquid into two goblets and brought them to the table. He returned to the shelves, retrieved a stone board and placed it on the table, arranging the small carved pieces into positions around the board.

“It’s a memory game. We each have our own pieces. We mix them up into random positions, and their pattern has to be replicated by the other person.” He took a sip from his goblet. “We use it during Battle Plan. It’s good for the mind.”

She coughed at the strength of the liquor. It tasted of spices that made her tongue tingle.

“Take your time with that.” Ruven laughed. “I doubt you’re used to liquor so strong.”

“Shouldn’t you be doing warrior things?” she teased.

“I’m off duty. We do have our own time, you know.”

They played several rounds of the memory game. Amelia took his advice and slowly sipped the liquor. At first, it had burned like lava sliding down her throat, but the more she drank, the more she enjoyed the warmth spreading through her stomach and the pleasant buzz in her body.

“Did you drink much at home?” he asked.

She paused for a moment. This was one of the first times she hadn’t been thinking of home.

“No,” she answered. “I never really had anyone to drink with.”

“What about your family?”

“I don’t have any.”

“Oh?”

“They died when I was younger.”

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her arm.

“It’s okay. I have my work and my books. Had, I mean.”

“You like to read?” he asked.

She nodded. “Mostly history.” She paused. “I used to love reading mythology and fairy tales.” She shook her head, the irony not lost on her.

“We have a library,” Ruven said.