Chapter 15

Neither Gustav nor Josslyn strayed far from Avera the following morning. Most likely fearful the mist would return suddenly to take them. After all, it had stolen the steeds that should have been secured in the barn. The door gaped wide open when they went to check at dawn.

“Luna?” Avera whispered her horse’s name as she stared at the stall door that had been kicked open.

Gustav followed the tracks a short way before announcing, “Looks like they’ve gone to the spire.”

“Why?” What drew them to that inhospitable place? And more importantly, did Luna, and everyone else for that matter, live?

She hoped so.

While Avera didn’t understand why the amulet acted as a counter to the fog, she was very glad to have it, but she did wonder why it was in her mother’s possession in the first place. Gustav didn’t recall seeing her wearing or speaking of it. Another mystery on top of everything else.

They layered on clothing and loaded up some packs with food and even more garments for the hike. Gustav also had them loop a rope around each other in a daisy chain, giving them enough slack to move.

“This should ensure we don’t lose each other.”

Probably a good plan, seeing how the mist could come suddenly, and—from what Grigoire had told them in the library—blizzards as well, even though they were just entering fall. Fraegus Spire suffered from perpetual winter, by all accounts.

They were ready within an hour after dawn, their mood somber as they headed out of Herder’s Respite. Avera trudged with her companions, ruminating on what was happening in the capital. Fearful of what might await on the mountain. Worried that her choice to come here might hurt Josslyn and Gustav, but they wouldn’t let her go alone no matter how many times she asked.

As they left the green and yellow scrubby grass tufts for the rocky base of the spire, Avera couldn’t stand the silence. “You’re sure my mother visited the spire twice?” she asked Gustav.

“Twice that I know of.”

“Why did she bring a dignitary from Verlora?” It seemed an odd place to visit with a lover.

“At the time, she mentioned something about him wanting to take samples from the mountain. He was a scientist of some sort.”

“What kind of samples? And how would he even know to find them on the spire?” Josslyn asked, craning her head as if she could see the peak. She couldn’t, the low clouds covered it.

“No clue.” Gustav shrugged. “Calixte never said.”

“Is there anything I should know that you haven’t told me?” Avera asked.

“Probably. I saw and heard much during my time by her side. Some likely important, more that’s not, plus things I’ve surely forgotten. It’s hard to pinpoint what might be of use given my decades of observation.”

“Or what you missed when she had you off doing other things,” Josslyn murmured.

“The queen didn’t have secrets from me,” he insisted.

“You wouldn’t know if they were secret,” his sister countered.

“She has a point,” Avera stated, jumping in. “You said yourself you have no idea why she turned sour on Benoit or why she got paranoid near the end, or even what happened at the Spire.”

“Perhaps she feared I wouldn’t understand.”

Josslyn kicked a pebble on the ground as she murmured, “I am curious, since you knew the queen well, how was it Avera received weapons training?” She glanced at her brother. “You spoke quite often of Avera’s progress, but never mentioned her sisters.”

“Because they never had lessons.”

“Why?” Avera asked. “Why me and not them?”

He shrugged. “They lacked aptitude and interest. And there was the fact your mother asked me specifically to teach you.”

“I was barely walking when my fighting lessons began.” Avera remembered her first sword, carved from wood. She’d delighted in swinging it around.

A glance at Gustav showed him pensive. “Training someone at that age was odd, but Calixte explained her request as an outlet for your energy.”

“But she had you giving me some of those lessons. The Grand Rook teaching a child.”

“Because I was the best swordsman.”

“You didn’t train my brother,” Avera pointed out.

At that, Gustav grimaced. “I tried but the boy didn’t listen. Rather than thrash the future king, it seemed best to leave it in the hands of another teacher.”

“He could have used a good spanking,” Avera grumbled.

“He could have used some humbling for sure,” Gustav agreed.

“Did you ever ask my mother why she treated me so differently?” Though her mother had given her an explanation, she still wondered if anyone else had ever questioned it.

For a second, she thought he wouldn’t reply. “I did, on several occasions. She told me it was none of my affair.”

“And you didn’t press her on it?” Josslyn asked. “That doesn’t seem like you.”

“Actually, I did, and Calixte snapped at me. Told me that while what she did might appear cruel, she was preparing Avera for the future.”

“A future where I’d be ignored by people?” Avera’s sarcastically replied.

“She taught you to be self-sufficient. She encouraged you to be curious. She ensured you were well educated and could protect yourself. She raised you to be a future queen...” Gustav trailed off. “It’s as if she knew this would happen.”

“How could she know?” Josslyn scoffed. “No one expects to be killed by assassins and most certainly not her entire family.”

“Don’t be so sure. She told me more than once that when she died, she wanted me to watch over Avera.”

“Probably because she worried Aldrich would kill me.” Her brother made no bones of the fact he’d prefer she didn’t exist.

“Perhaps,” was Gustav’s low reply.

“I doubt she saw her own future, because on her death bed she lamented the fact she didn’t have time to tell me anything. Surely someone who knew she’d die would have made a better attempt to communicate before it happened.”

“Could be it happened sooner than expected. Or she hoped to change the future,” Josslyn opined. “If someone told me when I’d die, I’d be doing everything I could to avert it.”

A gust of cold wind swirled around them, biting the exposed parts of their bodies. Avera shivered. “That’s not pleasant.”

“And it’s just the start,” was Gustav’s grim prognosis.

He wasn’t wrong. As they began to climb, following a faint trail up the rocky terrain, the chill deepened, the day darkened. Snow went from a dusting on the ground to deep enough to leave a footprint and soon sucked at their feet, making each step a chore.

They’d stopped speaking, mostly because every breath tore at the lungs, the air so crisp it hurt. Avera’s lashes iced. The tip of her nose went numb, as did her toes and fingers.

The trek seemed useless. Why would her mother have told her to come here? Avera could see nothing of interest. No buildings, no people, no sign of life at all. And no end in sight to their climbing. The Spire went up and up. Looking back, she could see they’d only ascended a fraction of the mountain. How high would they have to go?

They stopped around midday, or so Avera assumed by the grumble of her stomach, since they’d long lost sight of the sun. The three of them huddled under a blanket Gustav pulled from his pack. With no wood to burn, they couldn’t start a fire to warm themselves.

After they ate, they resumed their trek. The swirl of white that swept across their path seemed like another snow squall until Avera heard Josslyn say, “So pretty.”

The mist had returned.

Avera went to grab Josslyn, only Gustav held on to her arm.

“Let her go.”

“You can’t be serious?” Avera huffed.

“She’s tied to us. We won’t lose her. Aren’t you curious to find out where the mist wants her to go?”

Avera gnawed at her inner cheek. “Yeah.”

“Then why not let her lead us? Could be we’ll find those who went missing.”

A chance to rescue the townsfolk did appeal... If they were alive.

“First sign of danger, I’m slapping my hand on her,” Avera warned.

“First sign of danger, you and my sister are to run.”

Avera snorted. “You know I won’t.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But I had to at least try.”

To Avera’s surprise, Josslyn kept going on the same path, her step firmer and more certain in her trancelike state. Avera hurried to keep up lest the rope get too taut and Josslyn give it an impatient yank.

“Can you hear what she’s following?” she huffed at Gustav.

“Not while I’m holding on to you.”

“And if you’re not?”

“The melody calls.”

“What if it calls her right into a crevice?” Because as the climb steepened so did the ruts, some deep enough they had to leap across.

“Then better hope we can brace quick enough, so we don’t all fall in,” his dry reply.

“Not reassuring,” she grumbled as she slipped and waved her arms for balance.

Gustav lost his grip and immediately began plodding after his sister despite Avera being the middle part of their tether. She slapped a hand on his back and he shuddered.

“The music is strong here,” he grunted.

“Does that mean we’re close?”

He glanced upwards. “Doesn’t seem like it, but then again, I doubt your mother made it to the peak. She wasn’t gone long enough.”

“How long did she disappear for?”

“Assuming she left not long after she asked for privacy? A day.”

“A day?” she squeaked.

“A day that included her getting there and back.”

Meaning hours of walking.

Avera put her head down and trudged, the cold, moist mist kissing her skin and frosting her hair. It took Gustav muttering, “She’s entering a cave,” for Avera to realize that they’d reached a wide ledge, windswept clean of snow to show the stone.

Carved stone.

Despite Josslyn’s impatient pulling of the rope, Avera stopped to look. “This isn’t natural.”

“Definitely handmade designs,” Gustav agreed. “I think we’re about to see what we came for.”

Were they? Because her mother made it seem as if Avera would be guided, but only once she left her companions. Or had it been the mist that took her mother? Her mother hadn’t told her to bring the amulet. Perhaps she didn’t know it nullified the effects of the mist.

As they entered the cave, warm air collided with Avera’s frigid flesh. Despite the change in temperature, the mist remained. An impatient Josslyn tried to walk further into the cavern, but Gustav and Avera braced and the rope binding them held her back. Gustav pulled a lantern from his pack one-handed. He knelt, keeping a hand on Avera at all times while striking a flint with the other until he lit the wick. By its flickering flame they could see the walls, limned in ice but also carvings.

Avera neared a section and ran her fingers over the ruts. “It’s like a language.”

“Not ours,” he remarked.

“This feels old.” Ancient came to mind. Yet none of the books mentioned the Spire having any construction. Had her mother known? She’d refused to divulge any information, insisting Avera learn it all on her own.

They began walking again, following Josslyn as she headed down a tall tunnel wide enough Avera could stretch her arms and not touch the sides. It continued to grow warmer. Warm enough she unbuttoned her coat and the frost coating her body began to melt, leaving her damp.

“Is it me or is the mist thicker here?” she asked, the ability to see impeded by the swirling white.

“Very,” growled Gustav. “And even touching you, I can faintly hear the singing.”

“Then don’t let go.” Because Avera didn’t want to be alone in this strange place.

The mist abruptly ceased—there one moment, gone the next—and with its disappearance, Josslyn came to her senses.

And she was angry.

She whirled and wagged a finger. “Why did you let it drag me here?”

“It was his idea.” Avera pointed at Gustav who bore the blame with his broad shoulders.

No surprise, he didn’t apologize. “Figured we should see where that mist wanted people to go.”

“Then you should have been the one leading,” Josslyn complained, hugging herself.

“I would have but then who would have defended you if there was danger?”

“Avera would have,” Josslyn snapped.

“Bah. Don’t be mad. Aren’t you happy it’s warm?”

Josslyn’s eyes narrowed. “You want warm? I’ll make sure your funeral pyre is piled high.”

The statement had Gustav grinning. “Pity I’ll be dead because I’d love to see you chopping wood.”

“Grrr.” Josslyn growled and Avera stepped in.

“What Gustav should have said was thank you for guiding us because we would have never found this place without your help.”

Josslyn tossed her head. “Glad to be of service.” She glanced behind her. “The tunnel keeps going. Should we follow it?”

“Got a better place to be?” drawled Gustav who obviously wanted to die.

“I hope something eats you,” Josslyn huffed before stalking further into the mountain.

The passageway went upward and emerged onto a sizeable ledge, not wide so much as long. It ran the entire circumference of a cavern dotted with balls of light. Massive didn’t come close to describing the size of the space. It was as if the entire mountain were hollow and within it…

“What is this place?” Avera whispered as she glanced down and saw a veritable city carved into the mountain’s innards. Paths inclined and wound around at various levels. Braziers blazed, emitting heat and light. But almost as astonishing as the secret city, the people moving around.

“I think we found the missing villagers,” Avera whispered.