With a gasp, Aborella snapped out of it, blinking away what remained of the vision. Immediately she regretted it. Her vision was a much happier place than the room she was in. Eleanor had imprisoned her in a hidden stone chamber behind the palace library and adjacent to her ritual room. Although the empress had extolled how virtuous she was for moving Aborella there from the dungeons, the truth was this room was far crueler than the dark death she’d experienced in the bowels of the mountain. Here she did not have the comfort of the sounds of other prisoners. No whispers came through walls in the night. She was alone. Utterly alone. And she was chained, manacled to the wall by the waist with enchanted metal unbreakable by any spell she had tattooed into her skin.
Eleanor was wise to bind her by the waist. If it had been her arm, she would have surely severed it off to escape. Fairies lived to feel the sun on their skin. It strengthened their natural magic and made them feel alive. This room was designed with only one window. A rectangle to let in a shaft of light each day. Compared to the dungeon, which had no windows, it might have been better. Only Aborella’s chains were not long enough to allow her to reach the light, and the angle of the window and the direction of the sun meant the light never reached her.
It was torture, to be sure. She could see the light but never feel it on her skin. Every day had become like a small death. Sometimes she’d dream about feeling the sun, only to wake in darkness and then watch as that teasing patch of warmth moved across the stone just out of her reach.
Ironic that Eleanor had claimed this room was her reward for telling the truth that the Treasure of Paragon had fled to Aeaea. The heirs and their mates had passed right through Eleanor and Ransom’s fingers, as Aborella had hoped they would. She’d known where Raven and Gabriel had been taking little Charlie for weeks before she’d told Eleanor, and by then it was too late for the empress to organize a proper attempt at reeling in her children. Faced with limited time, she’d gone after them herself and failed.
Aborella smiled. The eight living children were together now and protected by the goddess Circe herself. She’d seen it, and her visions were never wrong.
The heavy wood-and-metal door creaked open on its hinges, sending a wave of anxiety through her. Every day was the same. Tired and hungry, Aborella would withstand Eleanor’s aggressive questions about her visions and carefully lie about what she saw. Only the longer she was starved and mistreated, the harder it became to do so convincingly. She just didn’t have the energy.
Eleanor strode in, dressed in head-to-toe black. Gone was her usual gown, replaced by formfitting pants and a blouse with large puffy sleeves. The outfit exaggerated her skeletal frame and made her look like the angel of death. She’d lost more weight. And she was alone today.
Aborella wondered what had happened to Ransom. Had he finally realized that everyone who aligned with Eleanor eventually ended up in a box, whether it was a coffin or a prison? Or maybe Eleanor had already grown tired of him and his heart sat on the shelf in her ritual room, next to Marius’s and Brynhoff’s.
“Good morning, Aborella. Are you prepared to be cooperative today, or am I going to need to find your motivation?”
“I only wish to help you,” Aborella said. “Although it is difficult when I am so weak.”
“You are strong enough. Tell me, what you have seen?” Eleanor picked at the side of her nail.
“I haven’t seen anything, Empress. I’m too weak. Without proper meals and light, I am not strong enough to see.”
Eleanor’s scowl twisted into something truly horrifying. “Don’t play games, Aborella. If I gave you what you wanted, you’d only use your magic to break free. I’ve known you for decades. I know how you think.”
“But—”
“My spies saw a boat land in Serenity Harbor. It might have come from Aeaea. Four strangers disembarked, two males and two females. My man tried to follow them, but he lost them in the stink of that wretched beach colony.”
“The people of Everfield had to go somewhere after you burned all their homes.” Aborella hugged her knees to her chest and rested her head on them, wrapping herself in her wings.
“They should come to me! Paragon would provide them with lovely homes if they swore their allegiance to the rightful ruler of the five kingdoms.” Eleanor bared her teeth in an ugly grin. “It is only a matter of time before they fall—before all the kingdoms fall. Only Chancellor Ciro’s bloody ego keeps him from kneeling before me. He will break soon enough.”
“Of course,” Aborella said dryly. “What was I thinking?”
“I need to know who these people are. Are they my children in disguise? And if so, why are they in Everfield? What have you seen, Aborella? Don’t disappoint me, or I will further reduce your meals.”
Goddess forbid Eleanor should withhold the barely edible slop she dished out to her each night. Aborella worked to keep her eyes from rolling. But what to tell her? The lie must be close enough to the truth to be believable but far enough a lie as to mislead and misdirect. She must bend the arrow a few millimeters; not enough for the archer to notice but enough that the shot was guaranteed to miss its target.
She forced herself to mimic a vision once again. “I do see something. Yes, I see the arrival of the four you spoke of.”
“Well, tell me. I don’t have all day.”
“First something to eat. I am too hungry and weak to describe what I have seen.”
“First the vision!” Eleanor seethed through her teeth.
Aborella leaned back against the stone wall, wondering how she could ever have thought Eleanor was her friend for so many years. She’d helped train her, protected her, even sacrificed her own body for her. What a fool she’d been.
Aborella kept her expression completely impassive as she said, “The four are not your children, but they are members of the rebellion. They arrived in Everfield to meet with sympathizers who survived the fire. Their task is to recover documents from a home that was burned in the Empyrean Wood, one belonging to the leader of the rebellion.”
“What is in these documents?” Eleanor asked.
“I couldn’t see the contents in my vision, only a metal box. It is buried somewhere, underneath the ash.” Aborella blinked slowly and waited. Would she take the bait?
Eleanor paced the length of her cell, arms crossed over the bodice of her black top. “I’ll send a team to find this box and intercept the four. If you are right, you will be rewarded.” She turned for the door.
“Eleanor, I require food and drink, or my visions will stop.”
The empress turned her head in Aborella’s direction but didn’t meet her eyes. “Will the visions stop, or will you stop sharing them?”
Aborella allowed her silence to permeate the room. “We were friends once. I helped you develop your magic. I could help you again if you freed me. We’ve been together so long. You wouldn’t have given me your tooth if you didn’t trust me. Let me go, and let’s work together to unite the kingdoms.”
For one fleeting moment, Aborella saw softness creep into the edges of Eleanor’s expression. The empress took a single step toward her, then stopped. She blinked once, twice. And something happened. Whatever merciful thoughts Aborella had seen twinkle in her eyes dimmed like a snuffed candle. Cruelty sullied her face once more, and darkness bled into her already cold stare.
“If we were friends once, that’s over now,” she said. “An empress can have no real friends. A goddess does not consort with mortals.”
Aborella snorted derisively. “Are you calling yourself a goddess now? Empress is no longer enough?”
“It is the title I’ve been promised once I banish the goddess of the mountain.”
“Banish the goddess? You cannot banish the Mountain herself.” Aborella was both confused and distressed by this new motivation. Eleanor must truly have crossed into insanity to think she could murder a goddess.
“I will end the existence of the goddess of the mountain, and when I do, someone will have to take her place as
ultimate ruler of the five kingdoms. It will be me, Aborella. And if you help me… become… you will be rewarded.”
“I can help you more if—”
“No!” Eleanor snapped. “I will not risk losing you again. You are too important to my cause.”
Not too important to her, just her cause. Thoughts of Dianthe danced through Aborella’s head: the warm smell of cookies that seemed to follow her everywhere, the bright fire she kept burning in the hearth, the kind touch she always had when she was helping her eat or bathe. Dianthe’s kindness had been its own curse, making Eleanor’s cruelty all the more intense.
“Be careful, Eleanor. A goddess is only as strong as the ones who worship her. If you can’t keep a friend, how do you expect to keep the public’s adoration?” She’d gone too far. She’d be lucky if Eleanor didn’t punish her for that quip.
“I’m not after their adoration or yours,” Eleanor said darkly on her way to the door. “They don’t need to love me. Neither do you. But they should fear me.”
The heavy door slammed shut with enough force to rattle Aborella’s bones, and she knew at that moment she would never leave that room.
Chapter Eleven
“Ready?” Raven squeezed the hands of her two sisters as they huddled around the scroll laid on the table between them. This had to work. It should work. After all, the knowledge hidden in the scroll was meant for them, a message from their common ancestor.
“Try to be gentle,” Leena said facetiously from her perch beside them. She poised her quill over the scroll on her lap prepared to document everything that happened. Raven tried not to let the scribe’s duties break her concentration.
“I’m ready,” Avery said. “I think.”
Clarissa nodded. “Let’s do this.”
The scroll’s hidden symbols taunted them from deep within the parchment, under the readable message about the five orbs. Raven released their hands. “Now.”
Avery touched the scroll, and the original message faded. The hidden symbols beneath it rose slowly to the surface and darkened. At once Clarissa sang a spell to bolster Avery’s magic and hold the enchantment open like a wedge. Which left Raven free to do her part. She drew a symbol in the air above the scroll with her finger. The same translation spell she’d used on the historical texts necessary to resurrect Maiara in Sedona poured out of her. The words ordered themselves before her.
“I’ve got it,” she said excitedly, then began to read. “‘With the help of Daluk of Niven, I Medea, Tanglewood witch and queen of Darnuith, bequeath my golden grimoire to the three foretold—’”
The words disappeared as Avery’s fingers slipped from the parchment, and she collapsed in a heap.
“Avery!” Raven ran to her and squatted by her side.
Clarissa cradled her head in her hands. “Are you okay?”
“Whatever spell the original Tanglewood witches put on that thing, it’s no joke. Neutralizing it is like drinking from a firehose. I can’t hold it for more than a few seconds.”
“It’s not just us then.” Leena seemed far less nervous now that the ancient scroll had proven tougher than it looked. She paused her writing to address them. “Everyone in my order tried to translate it before Colin convinced me to bring it here. Our strongest elven magic was useless against its enchantment. Odd, considering an elf was involved in its creation. Daluk of Niven was one of our high scribes in the Temple of the Sacred Pools. He passed into the promised wood several years ago.”
Avery plopped down on one of the benches and leaned back against the table as if she were seriously hungover. Raven supposed she needed a break. She walked to the back of the tent and poured the three of them glasses of the cold fruity beverage the island’s sprites had made. The stuff looked like lemonade but tasted faintly of coconut. She set the glasses down between her sisters.
“Thanks.” Avery selected one and took a sip, then gestured toward Leena. “Are you like a nun or something?”
Raven, who’d just brought her drink to her lips, almost spat it out. Leena didn’t give off a warm, ask-me-anything vibe. In fact, she seemed a bit aloof and seriously uncomfortable to be there. She hoped her sister’s abrupt question wouldn’t be considered rude. Across the table, Clarissa had also stopped drinking and was glancing between Avery and Leena nervously.
“I don’t know what a ‘none’ is,” Leena answered, frowning.
“Um, like, are you part of a religious order that protects these scrolls for your gods or something?” Avery pressed.
Leena’s previously confused expression cleared. “Yes. The Order of Sacred Pools was established by the goddess of the mountain to record the history of her world. A faction of the elves, my people, have performed this sacred duty for millennia. I am honored to have been called into her service.”
Avery swiped a thumb over her lips. “So, you, um, devote your life to recording history? How does that work?”
Leena set her scroll aside and tangled her fingers over her knee. “Normally we never leave the temple. Our magic allows us to see events occurring around Ouros by gazing into the sacred pools. It is said that the deep indentations in the limestone are filled with the goddess’s own tears, cried when Zeus exiled her to this island realm. We watch and we write down what we see in ancient Elvish. That is why this scroll is so strange. None of the other scrolls are protected like this. There is no need. No one but our order knows how to read ancient Elvish.”
“How did you end up with Colin?” Clarissa asked. Both Raven and Avery turned around to look at her. “What?” she whispered, turning up her palms. “Just making conversation.”
A blush stained Leena’s cheeks. Raven scratched her forehead to conceal her lifted eyebrow.
“Colin came to Rogos two years ago on a mission to convince the elven high council to support the rebellion. Our leaders have always remained neutral, even during the uprising led by the witch queen. Our kingdom refused to take sides then or now. We’ve never participated in a war.”
“I get it. You’re Switzerland,” Clarissa said, nodding.
“What is Switzerland?” Leena narrowed her eyes.
“Never mind. Something from Earth. Please… continue.” Raven gave Clarissa side-eye.
“Although Lord Niall refused to discuss supporting the rebellion, he allowed Colin his wish to live and work among my people. The truth was, no elf would ever turn down free dragon labor. He’d worked for months, silently speaking his truth while winning over the locals with his tireless efforts. At first no one believed him. The elves were certain that Eleanor only wanted coordination of the kingdoms. But over time, things that Colin predicted came true. The execution of Brynhoff being one, skyrocketing taxes, and then the raids. About a month ago, Eleanor approached our High Lord, Niall, and told him that the future was a united Ouros. She pressured him to relinquish Rogos to her rule. He refused.
“After that, the Lord Niall insisted our archers begin training. Rogos has always had an army, but until recently, we’ve only practiced defensive maneuvers. Lord Niall ordered our military to increase its efforts and prepare for a potential attack. I am here because I and a small contingent of my kind believe that Eleanor will stop at nothing until she controls all five kingdoms, including Rogos. I received special permission from my Quanling to accompany Colin here. This was the only way that the scroll could be removed from the temple.”
“Quanling?” Raven asked. She’d never heard the term.
“Like a mother figure to women who enter the order. Male scribes answer to the Fratern. The Quanling and the Fratern are our leaders and serve on the High Lord’s royal court along with leaders of the wood elves and the desert dwellers.”
“So when you’re done, you’ll just go back?” Clarissa asked. “I must have been mistaken. It seemed like you and Colin—”
Raven glared at her. Now she was getting far too personal.
Although Leena’s expression didn’t change dramatically, Raven caught a hint of sadness in the tilt of h
er shoulders. “Yes, I’ll return when my work here is done. I’ve sworn an oath to the temple.”
Avery glanced at the scroll again, her shoulders sagging. “Which means if you ever want to get home, we need to figure this out.”
“Well, what we’re doing sure as hell isn’t working.” Raven rubbed her temples. “I don’t suppose one of you two has a better idea?”
Avery shook her head. “A long nap and a few hours on the beach? It won’t translate the scroll, but it might make me feel better.”
“Ladies, ladies.” Clarissa spread her hands and released an exasperated sigh. “Have you forgotten who the fuck we are?”
“We’re the three sisters,” Avery mumbled with a roll of her eyes.
Raven rubbed her shoulder encouragingly.
“Who the fuck are we?” Clarissa asked again, louder.
“The three sisters,” Raven and Avery said in unison.
“That’s right, bitches. We are the three fucking kick-ass sisters. We are more magical than unicorns and fairy dust!” Clarissa punched her fists into the air in front of her as if she were boxing a ghost. “One little scroll is not going to defeat us.”
Avery’s head dropped into her hands. “What do you suggest we do, Clarissa? I don’t have much left in me for this.”
“Maybe we should take a break,” Raven said. “Avery should lie down and maybe have something to eat.”
Clarissa gave a beleaguered sigh. “Here’s what we are going to do.” She picked up a piece of blank parchment beside the scroll that Raven had procured for taking notes. “Avery is going to neutralize the enchantment one more time; then you and I, Raven, are going to copy the symbols we see furiously. You take the first row and I take the second, and so on, alternating. And we are not going to even try to do the translation spell on what we are copying until we reconstruct the entire message.”
Raven ran a hand over her face. “That will take days.”
Clarissa clapped her hands. “So? Like nothing has been this difficult for us before? We thought we could muscle through it if we worked together. It’s proving to be a little bit harder than that. Are we going to give up or give it another try?”
Hidden Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon Book 7) Page 8
