Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Zenith

Dinner is a long and drawn-out affair with seven complicated courses of such immense variety that it encompasses selections from across the realm. Lord Warner has felt the need to show off for us.

Well, probably more for Anash and the people Queen Aurielle appointed to my advisory council than for me, but I'm happy to oblige by eating my fill. Thanks to the enthusiastic round of athletics Anash and I just indulged in, my appetite is up for the challenge.

But Anash only picks at his food, looking uncomfortable the entire meal. When we've finished and the plates are being cleared, I'm relieved. I'm eager to retire to our room together so we can talk. Whatever is bothering him, I want to know it so I can help.

Warner chucks his dinner linen onto the table and pushes back in his chair. "Shall we take a tour of the grounds?"

I deflate. It would be rude to say no, and even if I wanted to, Captain Randal accepts for us. "Excellent, Lord Warner. Let's do that. A walk would be good for this full belly."

As we amble through hallways and ballrooms, my attention drifts. I clock the layout, mapping the twists and turns out in my mind in the event such knowledge becomes useful, but beyond that, it's all the same drab black and gleaming gold on every floor.

Floating fae lights brighten as we near and dim after we pass by. Neat trick. My first time seeing such a spell. I'm tall enough to reach out and touch one, but that's probably uncouth. I resist. Anash side-eyes me as if he knows what I'm thinking. I grin and bump his shoulder with mine.

"If my dear Aurielle were here, she could relay to you the inspiration for each design element. Alas, I'm but a resident. Of the two of us, it's her with all the taste, you see."

"Is that right?" says Randal amicably. I shall thank him later for holding up our end of the conversation.

"Were it up to me, the whole estate would be the color of whatever wood was used to build it." Warner shrugs. "Don't have an eye for color."

Plain wood would be much better, in my opinion. There's a simple elegance to undecorated architecture that I rarely see in royal spaces.

Beside me, Anash stifles a yawn as if holding back his thoughts. Covering everything in black and gold isn't tasteful. It's tacky . And he wouldn't be wrong. The color scheme is rather depressing.

The tour moves from above ground to below at a gated staircase to the dungeons. If anyone else finds it odd that an old family estate would need prison cells, they hold their tongues, as do I.

"We'll keep the hostages here until Her Majesty returns," says Lord Warner. "Plenty of room."

He's not joking. As large as the visible portion of the house is, it sprawls at this subterranean level.

Our boots click-clack on the bare stone ground. Thick rugs cover the floors above , but no such luxury exists for the people below. Oddly or perhaps not, considering my origins, the rock beneath my feet is comforting.

The stone has been silent lately. I've longed for her familiar whisper, and here, of all places, the ground rumbles to life. What begins as a mere susurration swells to a full-blown call for my attention.

Zenith of Lemossin, a message awaits.

A zing of anticipation speeds my breath. I make sure no one but Anash is paying me any attention, then touch the cool, damp wall and concentrate. He watches, brow quirked, but stays silent.

An old message, says the stone. Ancient. Perhaps no longer relevant.

I would hear it anyway if you will, please, mother stone.

So be it . From Talus.

Air lodges in my throat. Talus was here? But why? When? Where is he now?

Ssh… Talus says, tell my brothers I fought for them. Tell them I tried, but I couldn't stop her. Tell them I'm sorry.

Though it's the stone's subtle whisper communicating with me, I hear Talus's deep voice in my mind. Is that all? Talus has nothing to be sorry for. I don't understand.

Yes, that is all. He's been silent a long time. Lost since not long after his imprisonment here.

Imprisonment! But why?

No answer.

Please, I need to know why.

I cannot tell you why. I can tell you when. A millennium ago, from Ralossi being taken south to the docks.

And no word since?

None. But he's not been returned to me.

That means he's not dead. I must go, then. Southward to the docks of Irondale's infamous harbor. Maybe he's still there. Or maybe he's found a way to leave a message behind, even without the stone's help. Something. Some trace of him must survive.

The urge to leave right this moment and fly the whole way there in one go pumps in my veins like too much sugar, making me jittery and restless.

Alas, I cannot. There's a war to be won first. Then I will go. If there's anything to learn of what's become of my old friend, of my leader, I'll learn it and bring him back if I can.

What could he have done to warrant imprisonment? I can think of nothing. Talus was a good man, strong and true, of unquestionable morals and dedication to his purpose.

Whatever it was must have been a mistake.

Anash subtly tugs my shirt sleeve. The group is moving on. They'll notice if we linger. I let my hand fall from the stone wall, nodding my thanks to Anash, and we follow the others.

Anash wears his concern on his face. I send him a reassuring smile, the best I can muster under the circumstances. We have much to discuss.

Outside, the last leg of the tour consists of the grounds surrounding the dwelling. We visit the makeshift army barracks, set up half in the horse barn and half in the hayloft. The soldiers do me proud, thanking their host profusely for the accommodations and the food. They look well enough, fed and taken care of. They deserve a good night's rest.

It's dark out already with night bugs chorusing all around us. Anash takes my hand. My thoughts are spinning. Win the war, find Talus, see Anash back to safety, win the war, find Talus, see Anash back to safety…

We give our thanks to Lord Warner, say our goodnights to everyone, and head back to our room. And by "we," I mean Anash does those things, and hypnotically I follow his lead while my mind is sunstrides away.

Behind closed doors is another story. I can't keep what I've learned inside a second longer. We've not even kicked our shoes off before I'm relaying to him every detail the stone told me.

"My stars," says Anash. "What a mystery. You cared for this man? Talus?"

"More he cared for us, but yes, in the way a soldier might admire a good general, I cared for him. Whatever happened that led him to the Warner's dungeons, it can't have been his fault. He would never do anything dishonorable. He took his duty to protect the royal bloodlines seriously. He would never betray his queen."

Anash stares. Blinks. Glances away and undresses. "Well, then you're right. We must investigate."

"Exactly. He deserves no less."

When he's shucked off his clothes, he begins with mine. His lids look heavy, and behind them, gray-blue tired eyes are far too weary. "Let's go to bed, and you can tell me more about him. From where does he hail? What does he look like? How did he lead you to winning the war with the incubi?"

"Yes, I'll share all of it."

We settle into bed, still rumpled from our earlier diversions, and I tell him what I remember. After a while, Anash's eyelids droop. Damn, I'm monopolizing the conversation.

"But I've been talking for ages when something has been bothering you. I would hear what occupies your mind, my love."

He doesn't deny it. "I'm not sure now is the right time. It's late. We're both tired."

"Mmm." I brush his hair back from his face and give him a kiss. I can't tell if he's making an excuse or genuinely too tired to continue. He yawns and melts into his pillow. It must be true. "You're exhausted, my love. Go to sleep. We can speak in the morning."

"G'night, Zee," he murmurs.

I kiss his forehead. "Good night, Nasha." I've never called him that before. It's his sister's name for him. When he smiles with his eyes closed, I know it's all right.

Everything is going to be all right.