“What in the world…” She waved a hand to indicate the outfit.
Alexander spread his hands and continued to smile. In fact, his grin seemed to deepen. “I am quite well, thank you.” The clink and rustle grew as he drew close to her on the balcony. “And you?”
Apparently, he was going to make her wait. His repeated question about her own welfare brought thoughts of Sacha to mind once more. Suddenly, she found herself unsure of how to proceed. The two of them had not been truly alone since that first evening on another balcony. Having his undivided attention made her feel awkward.
“I know the defense of our kingdoms is, no, has to be of paramount importance. It is an issue of both our nations’ survival, but...” Sloane hesitated as her emotions surged and threatened to break what composure she had managed to retain. “Sacha.” Her hands tightened into fists and she forced herself to continue. “This waiting is about to drive me to madness. I must look for her, I can sit idle no longer.”
The prince’s jovial expression mellowed to one of concern, and he nodded in understanding. “You are right, of course, and I understand why you feel this way. I must apologize for my countrymen and myself. Your needs have been set aside and for that, there is no excuse.” He bowed in a protest of creaks and soft clatters.
Sloane blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “Unnecessary, but thank you.”
His face took on that wonderful smile again. “On the contrary, something must be done about your sister’s predicament, and something will be done this very day.” He snapped his feet together and spread his arms once more. A clatter of ringing buckles accentuated his pose. “I would be honored if you would join me?”
The thought of actually doing something to find her sister, combined with Alexander’s ridiculous outfit, made her laugh out loud. “For Eos’ sake, what are you wearing?”
His deep, soothing laughter echoed her own. “You shall see.” He clapped his hands together twice. “Shahara, come!” An older, almond-skinned woman with dark eyes and black hair came through the open door with four young women. They were dressed in the same emerald-and-gold silks of the Citadel servants, with one exception. The eldest, Shahara, she assumed, wore a thin band of gold on her smooth brow. The four younger women carried between them a suit similar to the one Alexander currently wore.
Sloane frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.” Alexander arched an elegant brow. “Please, put on the gear.” He made his way to the door, hesitating for a moment as he passed Shahara. “When she is ready, bring her to the lift.” The servant bowed and the prince made his exit.
In short order, Sloane found herself stripped naked, stuffed into the leather gear, and led through the palace corridors, clicking, creaking, and clinking the entire way. Even though the leather covered virtually every scrap of available skin, she couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious. “Snug” was a word she had left out of her earlier evaluation of Alexander’s suit. At least the leather was thin and supple enough to move with her body, for the most part.
Her ears grew hot whenever their paths crossed large groups of people. Fortunately, only warm smiles fell upon her as she passed, trying to keep her backside shielded by Shahara and her assistants.
They approached a large stairway that led to a tall, arching egress on the southern side of the palace. The number of soldiers grew thicker as the pair came closer to the heavy stone steps, but none attempted to bar their path, even as they proceeded to ascend the stairs to the archway above.
The top of the stairs opened outside to a huge, circular balcony. At its edge, a retaining wall no higher than a person’s knee defined the limits of solid ground and open air. On either side of the massive dais, two sets of stairs trailed downward, leading to similar smaller platforms that held giant wooden cogs and pulleys. Not far from where Sloane stepped out onto the grand terrace, Alexander had stepped ahead to stand with two others: Rouke and a stocky woman with short, spiky golden hair and a strong jawline.
Sloane let out a small breath of relief. Both Rouke and the woman were dressed in the same absurd outfits she and Alexander wore.
They waited beside an odd-looking cage, big enough to hold half a dozen people. It was an elegant basket made of handcrafted wood and purposefully worked iron. The two materials mingled together so cunningly, she could not see where the wood ended and the metal began. The bottom half was carved winewood, which had been fashioned in the shape of two eagles facing away from each other. The walls of what looked to be a sitting area were contained by the wings of the birds, which had been swept back so their tips touched together. Strips of iron coiled through the beautifully rendered birds, taking the shape of harnesses and armor. More bars of iron leapt from the metal adornments to arch above the sitting area and join together under a massive iron loop. An interwoven rope the size of Sloane’s thigh had been affixed to the loop by means of separating the individual threads and tying them in an intricate knot. The rope soared into the air, disappearing into the canopy far above.
The prince looked at Sloane with an admiring glance as they approached. He turned to address Shahara. “You have chosen well.” The servant bowed deeply and backed away. Alexander stepped up to Sloane and examined the many belts and clips. “The gear suits you.”
She blushed and immediately felt the fool. “You are too kind,” she said. How ridiculous, she thought. Only Bella might be young enough to constantly swoon in such a fashion. Her behavior was certainly not helping to find Sacha.
Rouke stepped forward and bowed his head. “Princess. It’s good to see ya on such a fine mornin’.”
She smiled and considered how much she had come to enjoy the soldier’s steady presence. “You as well.”
Alexander patted Rouke on the shoulder. “You know Rouke of course.” He motioned for the spiky-haired woman to step forward. “This is Captain Aria, she will be joining us today.”
Between Aria’s stocky body and short hair, she could be easily mistaken for a young man if not for her generous bosom. She stepped up next to Rouke and bowed. “It is an honor to meet you, Princess.” Her voice was surprisingly liquid and pleasant.
“Likewise,” replied Sloane.
Alexander flashed one of his brilliant smiles and gestured to the oversized birdcage. “Shall we go?”
Sloane’s stomach gave a small twitch, but she nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Rouke stepped quickly to the nearest side of the carved box, grabbed a piece of metal she had thought was fixed in place, and lifted it. The wing nearest to them and the graceful iron bars attached to it swung open, revealing bench seats on either side of the box nestled within the carved wings. Alexander gestured to one bench and waited for her to settle before taking a seat next to her. Aria and Rouke sat across from them.
The interior was no less a work of art than the exterior. Small reliefs of men and birds in flight together decorated all of the wooden surfaces. Here and there, the iron work from above was integrated into the lifelike images, similar to the cage itself. She suddenly realized what Alexander had in store for his morning, what the reason for the buckles and straps must be, and her heart skipped. “Are we going to... fly?” Just saying the word made her skin tingle.
Alexander’s face brightened and he took hold of her hand. “Yes, we are. Rouke was gracious enough to inform me that you wanted to try, so I’m afraid I can’t take credit for the surprise.” He laughed and called out to a man who had been standing by one of the descending stairs. “Up!”
The uniformed man saluted and threw a slim lever that had been in his shadow. A bell sounded on the platform and in the canopy far above, an echoing bell rang. The cage gave a soft shudder and lifted from the ground, swaying softly as it gained height from the receding platform below.
Sloane’s grip tightened on the prince’s hand and her stomach felt as if it had dropped to her feet. She glanced nervously at the others.
Rouke and Aria wore knowing smiles, but Alexa
nder laid his hand over her whitened knuckles.
She looked up into his face. His features were peaceful, even soothing. “You needn’t worry. We, and many others, have taken this journey,” he said. Taking his hand from hers briefly, he indicated a team of liveried people busy on one of the two low platforms. The rope was being fed through the assembly of cogs and wheels under the watchful eyes of no less than two people at each point of turning, and bundles of materials were set nearby. “The mechanism and ropes that allow our ascent are constantly monitored and replaced regularly. In living memory, there has not been one failure of the lift.” He lightly squeezed her hand and leaned against the bars that arched above his head. “Try to enjoy the view.”
His low voice, along with the reassuring words, were comforting. She looked past the iron bars and her breath caught in her throat. It was almost like home, standing atop the Acklune and looking down into the bay, but instead of the vast ocean beyond, there was a jungle that spread for miles in every direction. Her heart ceased its thrumming, and she smiled at her prince. “Truly beautiful.”
She turned back to find his dark eyes intent upon her face.
“Yes. Beautiful,” he replied.
She felt heat rise to her cheeks and looked away, still not ready to accept that she might actually find happiness here, with him.
Thankfully, Rouke broke the awkwardness. “How far will we be goin’ out today, My Prince?”
“Not far, just enough to give the princess a feel for the Rohdaekhann,” he replied.
Rouke nodded with a smile and gave Sloane a wink. “You’re gonna enjoy this, Princess, rest assured. ’Tis no lie that my heart near stopped the first time, but that was from my own doin’. No fault of the bird, mind ya.”
The muscled captain chuckled. “He forgot to buckle all of his straps, like the bonehead he is.” She elbowed Rouke in the shoulder. “The eagle sky-rolled and dragged Rouke’s feet through the canopy. I’ve never seen someone’s eyes get so big.” Her chuckle turned into full laughter, as musical as her voice, while Rouke just shook his head.
“There will be no fear of that today. We will make certain you are buckled securely,” Alexander said to Sloane with a smile.
Sloane chuckled. “I hope so, I would hate to think you wanted to be rid of me so soon after my arrival.”
“I think you are far from being in danger of that, Princess.” Aria winked conspiratorially with a knowing nod in the prince’s direction.
Sloane almost blushed again but was able to contain her emotions. These romantic insinuations were going to be the end of her. The ride couldn’t be over soon enough.
As if Eos had heard her desperate plea, the winch-driven cage passed through an opening in the bottom of a manmade structure that was hidden from below. Large wooden beams, spanning the space between two gigantic branches of Terrandal, supported the treehouse that surrounded them. Bells sounded once again and the lift came to a smooth stop. There were a number of people here already, including men in similar livery as those below. At the bell’s ring, a platform slid on wooden rails from one side to close the opening and provide a stable platform. A single man who had been stationed next to a lever rushed over to open the wing door and stand back, bowing as the prince stood.
“Out we go,” said the prince, making his exit, then extending one hand back to draw her forth.
The building around her was roughly rectangular in shape and completely open inside, like a barn. Chains, straps, and ropes hung from hooks and lift points along the length of the rafters that supported the angled roof above. A single monstrous beam provided the central brace for the roof far overhead, and its surface had been decorated with etchings that she could only guess were elven runes. Several feet off the floor was a wooden rod that also stretched the length of the room but continued out into the sky beyond through two huge doors, which had been carved to allow it to pass between them when closed. Like the beam above, runes had been carefully carved into every surface Sloane could see of the massive length of wood. Many spiral stairs sprouted from the floor and twisted their way to doors framed in the roof overhead. Through the open doors, the leaves and limbs of Terrandal waved in front of the blue sky.
She had expected the floor to feel unstable but found it to be just as solid and unforgiving as the stone flooring of the Acklune, which came as a great relief. She followed her companions to a large circular table around which men and women, all in uniforms similar to the Basinian military, clustered. A map of the surrounding area had been painstakingly crafted across the table’s surface. Beautifully rendered colors detailed the various veins of the river and the surrounding jungles and plains.
Alexander acknowledged the men at the table with a nod and looked down at the map. “I want to follow the river west for a mile or so.” He pointed to the area on the map. “Then swing back east, beyond the Cliffs of Judgment, and then return home.”
Aria nodded. “I’ll call them in.”
“Actually, Captain, we’ll do it.” The prince put his hand on Sloane’s shoulder. “I want her to meet them before they come inside.”
“Of course, My Prince. We’ll set things up down here.” The captain patted Rouke on the shoulder and they turned from the table.
“Shall we?” Alexander motioned to one of the spiral staircases.
She followed him to the stairs and her heart beat faster with each ascending step. “How are they summoned?” She had heard rumors that the birds were intelligent, but she had also heard they were mindless beasts that could savage you at a moment’s notice.
“Some would consider it an art form. I think I agree.” He opened the small wooden door at the top of the stairs. “Come, it is better seen and experienced than told.”
Sloane stepped through the portal and onto a small round terrace that could comfortably hold five to six people. A tall railing surrounded the platform. Four oddly shaped horns, arranged in a semicircle, were mounted on the railing several feet away from each other. The horns were different sizes and made primarily of wood with brass piping curling around each. Every horn had a single mouthpiece on one end and many flared bells on the other. Beautifully carved runes adorned the length of each instrument.
“Were these elven made?” She walked over to a horn to look at it more closely.
“Yes, just as this aviary was.” He gestured to the steep shingled rooftop. “We owe many of our conveniences to the elves. They are truly a remarkable people.”
“Unfortunately, my father would beg to differ,” replied Sloane.
“So I’ve been told. Perhaps that is something you and I can remedy in the future.” He came up beside her. “I believe our nations have been apart for too long. It’s time to mend wounds and set differences aside. We need the elves on our side, the dwarves as well.”
She looked up from the fascinating wind instrument to study the prince. He seemed genuinely concerned and serious about his proclamation, but what she found most interesting was that his words mirrored her own thoughts. Why should the civilized peoples be at odds when they shared common interests? The bickering and skirmishes along her homeland’s borders never made much sense to her, even as she grew to adulthood; it all seemed so pointless.
Day by day, the trepidation with which she had begun this journey melted away. Her prince seemed to be strong, caring, handsome—thank Eos—and most importantly, appeared to share her ideals. “What do you propose?”
He grinned excitedly. “I have spoken with the elves. There are many who would come to the table to see the animosity between us stopped.”
“Many,” she repeated. “How great is the opposition?”
Alexander’s grin wavered for a moment, but he recovered quickly. “Quite a few, unfortunately. I had hoped, together, we could temper your father’s anger and bring more of the elven folk to the side of peace.” He frowned. “Do you think we could accomplish such a thing?”
Sloane shook her head. “I do not know. Father is an angry man, but why, exac
tly, I cannot say. He’s just always been… that way.” She found her thoughts beginning to wander far beyond the topic at hand as she looked intently into the prince’s eyes and traced the fine lines of his strong cheekbones. She looked away before the Eos-cursed blushing threatened again. “It will take some time at least.”
“I see. It will take time and effort, I’m sure.” He put his hands on the wooden part of the horn. “For the moment, how about I show you how this works?”
She smiled. “I would enjoy that very much.”
Alexander stepped behind the largest of the horns. “The size of the horn is determined by the maturity of the bird to be called.” He then pointed to several holes along the sides, near the mouthpiece. “Manipulating the holes calls a specific bird.”
She was shocked. “They can distinguish between each other to such a degree?”
“Oh, yes, the great eagles are quite intelligent. They have a society all unto their own. It is actually the Rohdaekhann that insist their calls be changed as they age.” He chuckled. “No less than two of them will appear here when it is time for one of them to graduate, as it were. Our Carrosver has to be summoned, no matter the time, day or night, and play tunes until the call is accepted. In certain things, they are likely smarter than we are, for all of our vaunted ‘civilization.’” With a shake of his head, he placed his lips to the horn and blew.
The sound was much higher in pitch than Sloane would have expected from such a heavy-looking instrument. His fingers danced along the holes, changing the pitch and creating a complex melody. He moved to the second largest horn and took another deep breath. His deft hands repeated the process twice more, each time rendering a different sound.
Dark Fate: The Gathering (The Dark Fate Chronicles Book 1) Page 32
