by Jordi Burton
Glancing up at him, she was enthralled by the small changes that had occurred in him during their time apart. He’d shaved the beard he’d grown in prison, but had let stubble grow along his jaw. He had a scar, at the top of his left cheekbone, that she realized she didn’t know what from. He smiled less, now, but when he did, it was captivating.
His mouth turned up in a smirk as he laced his fingers through hers. A strange, sweet heat flared in her stomach at his touch.
There was something natural about their being together, like a part of each of them recognized the other. Though it wasn’t something she tended to dwell on, she thought of killing him in the alternate universe, of the way she’d felt afterwards. It had been soul-shattering. Did that mean they were… soulmates?
It wasn’t a word she threw around lightly. But, somehow, it seemed fitting for them. Like they were preordained, two pieces of a puzzle fitting together. The thought filled her with elation.
As they strolled through the town, an image flooded her mind:
Dani flutters around me, her hands smoothing invisible wrinkles from my skirts, my hair. I look at her through my veil; it shrouds her in silver. She looks resplendent in a violet gown, her green healer’s tattoo bared. Even with the scars on the side of her head, she’s an ethereal beauty.
“You can still say no, you know.”
I smile. “I know.”
She shakes her head. “Gods and Angels, this is really happening.”
A guard rounds the corner and beckons to her. She squeezes my hand before she goes, leaving me alone in the hall. I look down at my hands, down at the engagement ring on my finger. It was his ancestor’s, some great-grandmother down the line. It feels like it connects me to them, to where he comes from.
Footsteps sound; the guard returns. “Ready, Your Highness?”
I nod and follow him to the doors. Music swells from within the throne room. My father hesitates in the doorway, staring at me with a misty-eyed smile.
“You look beautiful, my heart.”
It takes everything within me not to start crying. As it is, I take his hand and approach the door. Everyone within the throne room rises, turning to face us as we begin the walk down the aisle. There are familiar faces in the crowd, but I don’t even notice them. Representative Sophine stands at the head of the dais, beautiful in her white gown. Chris and Mohan stand on the steps of the dais below her, with Lili and Dani standing across from them.
But all I can see is William. He meets my eyes as I approach him, his face split with a grin.
Anastasia came-to with a gasp, still holding William’s hand. It was jarring to look into his face as it was here, colored with the voluptuous obsidian swirls of the Old World, compared to how it had been in the vision. But more startling was having seen their wedding. It had felt so real, like she could reach out and touch it.
William looked at her. “Are you alright?”
She nodded, afraid to speak. Standing with him after seeing their wedding felt momentous, but she didn’t pull away. If these visions of the future were true, did that mean she married William? Or were they fragments? Possible futures? Gods and Angels, she needed Valdon!
Thankfully, Gerrard approached them. Anastasia moved away from William, stepping ahead of Mohan and Lili to meet him. He didn’t appear to have seen her and William holding hands, for which a part of her was grateful; she didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, especially not Gerrard’s. He was kind, and caring, and deserved better than that.
“The repairs to your chambers have been made,” he said, holding out a small, leaf-shaped vial filled with a silver liquid. “We found this hidden in one of the walls during our work.”
Shock shot through Anastasia; both William and Gerrard narrowed their eyes at her, feeling her surprise. She took the vial, her mind spinning. This was the vial the Fairy Queen had given her, the one her grandmother had requested all those years ago. She’d thought it had been lost. But, somehow, it had been sent here when even her dagger had not. Strange.
“Thank you.”
Gerrard frowned. “Do you want me to bring it to Mistress Miglune, Your Highness? Perhaps it is an old healing remedy?”
“No, thank you. I can do that myself.”
With a nod, Gerrard headed down the corridor. Anastasia felt uneasy. There was something about this vial that was important. If only she knew where the Fairy Queen was, so she could ask her. Instead, she tucked the vial into her bodice and turned back to William.
An overwhelming need propelled her forward. Grabbing his face in her hands, she stared into his familiar hazel eyes. “I love you.”
Slowly, he leaned down and kissed her. Warmth spread from her lips down to the tips of her toes, filling her with determination and strength. For the briefest of moments, she didn’t care if anyone saw them. She didn’t care about needing to find a husband for when they returned home, or even if they did return home. All that mattered was William, and the way he made her stomach flutter with butterflies.
When they broke apart, she grinned. “I could get used to this.”
He chuckled. “So could I.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
T he volunteers left at first light the next morning, taking along a copy of the map Anastasia had found in the castle. Mistress Woodsman made slings out of fabric scraps, which they strapped to their bodies and filled with as much pemmican and water as they could hold. Anastasia shook all of their hands, thanking them for their help, before they unfurled their wings and took off into the morning sky.
Standing at the water’s edge, Anastasia watched them until they were mere specks on the horizon. Lili stood with her, crossing names off her list. William and Ryke hovered a few feet away, crude daggers William’s father had made in the night strapped to their hips.
“That only leaves Chris and Prince Vlad, my Princess,” Lili intoned.
Anastasia nodded. “And the Guard?”
“Those that are better trained are standing sentry around the edges of the city. The rest are training near the water.”
“How does the town center look?”
“My sister said Master Blue is giving out food at the inn, while the other Mistresses have makeshift carts and are bartering their wares. Master Dinas is hard at work on weapons for the Guard, while his partner, Blacksmith Ferry, is forging coins as we speak.”
It seemed things were finally coming together. She hoped Mohan was having the same luck with his search for the Vatis and the end to Joey’s spell.
Aagney yawned in her arms. She turned her attention to him, stroking a finger down his soft, round cheek. Welcoming the calmness that washed over her at his touch, she turned and strode with Lili back towards the castle. William and Ryke took up positions on either side of her, chatting amiably about nothing of consequence. It was nice to hear a conversation that didn’t center around certain doom.
A flap of wings alerted them to an approaching presence. William and Ryke drew their daggers, looking up as a young boy landed in front of them. He was out of breath, and ragged, his hair sticking up all around his head.
“Lower your weapons,” she commanded of Ryke and William. “This is my page boy, Fommen.”
He flushed, embarrassment and anxiety radiating off of him. Dropping into a quick bow, he said, “Your Highness, I have found something.”
“Already?” Ryke said.
“There is a large building that’s filled with scrolls a little ways north from here.”
“A library!” Anastasia gasped.
Fommen nodded. “It could help Prince Mohan break the spell!”
Before she could stop herself, Anastasia grabbed Fommen in an embrace. He squirmed before a sense of calmness washed over him and he settled. As she put him on his feet, he looked up at her for the first time and smiled.
“I did well?” he asked
She nodded. “Very well.”
“Could you show us where this library is, Fommen?” Ryke asked.
“
Yes.”
Anastasia turned to Lili. “Get Mohan. Tell him we’ll leave as soon as Fommen’s gotten some rest and something to eat.”
Lili curtsied and hurried off. With one hand holding Aagney, and the other resting on Fommen’s shoulder, Anastasia led the group towards the inn.
It was amazing what twenty-four hours could accomplish. The inside of the inn was spotless. People littered the tables, eating sweet porridge. The buzz of their conversations filled the room, making it feel comfortably close-quartered. Lili’s sister, Melina, stood behind the counter, serving bowls of porridge to waiting hands. Back in the kitchen, Anastasia could just make out the rotund Master Blue as he slaved over a hot stove.
“Good morrow!” Anastasia called.
Melina froze, her eyes widening; Anastasia felt her surprise and timidity. “G-good morrow, Princess.”
“Do you think I could get some food for my page, here?”
Melina nodded. “Of course.”
Hurrying to the back, Melina bustled around. A moment later, she returned with a bowl of porridge, sprinkled with dried currants. Fommen grabbed it hungrily and fell into a seat, shoveling food in his face. Catching what Master Blue was working on in the back, Anastasia frowned.
“Still no game?”
Melina shook her head. “Only birds too scrawny to eat. But we have more than enough grain, vegetables, and fruits. And fish. Plenty of fish.”
There hadn’t been any game at all in the city or the surrounding areas. Anastasia wondered if it had to do with Joey’s spell, or if it was the nature of the Old World. Did their ancestors not have meat? Did the other kingdoms have game? She supposed they’d find out from their search parties. She only hoped they would have enough fish to hold them over. If not, she wasn’t sure what substitute there would be.
“Would you or your warriors like anything to eat?”
Anastasia shook her head. “I’m fine.”
William grunted. “No, thank you.”
As Melina flushed again, Anastasia remembered how she and William had been having an affair in the alternate universe. The sudden realization made her lose any appetite she might’ve had. But the flustered look seemed reserved for Chris, who had just walked into the room. And given the way she tried to hide her feelings, in a room full of people that could all sense them, made Anastasia lose any doubt that Melina had a thing for Chris.
“Hi, Christopher!” she chirped.
Irritation flashed through Chris, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by cordiality. “Melina.”
“Would you like some breakfast?”
“Please.”
He tapped around with a long stick until he found the seat across from Fommen. As he sat, Melina hurried over with a bowl of porridge.
“Spoon’s to your left,” she said.
Chris grunted his acknowledgement, before digging into his food. Anastasia stood in companionable silence, waiting for Fommen to finish. She “eavesdropped” on the feelings of the people around her, taking in their contentedness, or their irritation, or their excitement. It was odd to know she could feel other’s feelings, but, somehow, just like flying, there was a part of it that felt natural.
As Fommen finished, Anastasia rested a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “We’ll see you before you and Vlad leave tonight.”
He tilted his head. “Where are you headed?”
“Fommen found a library north of here. We hope it might help—”
“—Mohan find information about the spell, of course!”
Anastasia smiled. “Yes.”
“I’d offer to come, but…” He grinned sheepishly and motioned to the cloth around his eyes.
“Of course.”
With a wave to Melina, Anastasia led Fommen back outside. William and Ryke followed at a leisurely pace. When they reached the town center, they meandered through the makeshift marketplace. Mistress Woodsman repaired clothing discovered in houses, while others offered herbs, tonics, or carved wooden toys. As it was, a few children darted about, their laughter ringing through the streets.
Their happiness filled Anastasia with warmth. She was glad they were able to find a bright side to the darkness that surrounded their people.
A few moments later, Mohan and Lili joined them. There was a brightness to Mohan’s eyes that Anastasia hadn’t seen since they’d arrived in the Old World. And, thankfully, there was a spark of hope burning within him, shining through his inner cloud of resentment and stress.
“What’s this I heard about a library?”
Anastasia offered a small smile. “I guess we’ll see when we get there.”
Turning, she unfurled her wings and lifted into the air. Lili, William, and Fommen followed her, while Ryke—the strongest of them all—looped his arms under Mohan’s and carried him upward.
Anastasia flapped her wings a couple of times, rising higher. In her arms, Aagney giggled, enjoying the wind on his face. She held him tighter, following Fommen as he took the lead. While flying wasn’t as instantaneous as portal travel, it was still quick. It wasn’t long before they’d flown past the edge of the city, out past a forest, and into what looked like an abandoned city. It was smaller than Bahail, with two large stone structures interspersed with small wooden huts.
Fommen brought them to the smaller of the stone structures, which was still a massive building. The glass dome in the center was shattered, leveling it to the same height as the open arches around it. Some of the walls had collapsed, with gaping holes leaving the inside open to the elements. The sunlight illuminated the dust motes within, making it evident that the place was abandoned.
Landing, William and Ryke took the lead, marching inside the building. Anastasia, Mohan, and Lili followed, leaving Fommen to catch his breath outside.
Ceilings, decorated with beautiful tile, stood at least six people high. Dusty, moldy shelves lined the walls, from marbled floors all the way to the tops of the arches. Cobwebbed scrolls sat within them, in organized disorder.
Anastasia’s footsteps echoed as she walked further inside. She could imagine how breathtaking it must’ve looked in its prime, with the sunlight filtering through the large dome, and the tile and marble shimmering like gold. Knowledgist Woodsman would’ve been beside himself. As it was, Anastasia was flooded with awe. Here were scrolls upon scrolls of her people’s history and literature, nearly untouched by time. The pages were yellowed, and many waterlogged, but they were still well-preserved considering the state of the building.
Lili frowned. “Do you think this was a Nadmilise building?”
“Must’ve been,” Mohan said. “There aren’t any ladders.”
William nodded. “Just perches in front of each of the shelves.”
Kicking off the ground, Anastasia flew up to the top of one of the shelves. A few feet of marble jutted out from the shelves, giving her a perch to stand on. The pressed metal label on the shelf had long since faded, so Anastasia just grabbed a scroll.
Sitting on the perch, she unrolled it. To her dismay, the scroll was written in a language even more ancient than the ancient language of the realms.
Mohan called up to her. “Well?”
She flew down to him and handed him the scroll. “Can you read it?”
He swore. “It’s not the same language as my grimoire.”
Just as Anastasia was about to return the scroll, she recognized the name of the Nadmilise kingdom she was in: Irichat gol Naingeliar. Perhaps this scroll spoke of the history of the city? If only she knew how to read it. But it was unlike any language she’d ever seen.
They all spread out, perusing the shelves. But William didn’t stray too far from Anastasia’s side. She felt safer with him there, looking out for her.
Pulling out another scroll, Anastasia found the same strange language. As a child, she’d learned the languages of the realms while living in the human realm with her parents. As such, she should have no difficulty learning another. But where could she start? No one she knew spo
ke it, unlike how she’d learned with her mother. Perhaps there was a scroll on it?
Pushing off from her perch, she started skimming the scrolls in the shelves. She flew from perch to perch, searching one level before moving on to the next. It was long going, especially considering the library was as wide as it was tall.
Around noon, she stopped to feed Aagney. When they’d first arrived in the Old World, Ostana had tried to nurse him. Unfortunately, she couldn’t bear to be near him long enough, and her milk had made him ill. They’d figured it had something to do with Aagney being half-werewolf-half-vampire. And when they’d tried to use a Nadmilise wet nurse, Aagney hadn’t eaten. Thankfully, Mohan had discovered a tonic that would mimic the milk he needed for sustenance. Anastasia always carried bottles of it with her.
As she sat, William came up beside her. “Want a hand?”
She passed Aagney to him and rooted around in the purse at her waist for a bottle. When she produced it, William surprised her by taking it and feeding Aagney.
Wordlessly, she watched William with the baby, a strange feeling of bittersweet happiness stealing over her. Though she knew he could feel how she felt, he didn’t say anything. He just cradled Aagney’s head and murmured to him while he drank.
“You’re good with him,” she whispered. It felt wrong to talk loudly in this moment.
William shrugged. “I had practice with Dani.”
They sat together in silence. Anastasia tried to imagine William as a child, a toddler caring for his infant sister. She could picture their parents, so happy together, chasing them around their home. Dolan would be grimy from his work in the smithy, while Victorya would try to teach her son to dance. It pained her to think of all they’d lost since she’d returned to Sehir.
After burping Aagney, William returned him to Anastasia. She placed him back in his sling, cradling him close. Though it had only been a couple of weeks since he’d been placed in her care, she realized she felt his absence. She’d grown fond of him. Vaguely, she wondered what sort of implication that would have when they returned home. It was a difficult situation all around; she was glad Ostana and Vlad had both chosen to join search parties, so they could be distracted from their loss.
