by Emma Hamm
“Well, then. Perhaps you would be pleased to know as his partner he took Vivienne back to his private chambers.”
The words shouldn’t have stung, but they did. She hated to think of that creature running her clawed hands all over…
No. She couldn’t think about that. It wasn’t what a friend or partner would think. So instead of allowing the thoughts to run rampant in her mind, she shrugged her shoulders. “Good for him. He can do whatever he wants in his spare time as long as it doesn’t interfere with the research we’re conducting.”
“What he does in his spare time,” Bernard said with a scoff. “You mean who he does in his spare time.”
He wasn’t playing fair, and she could see that from a mile away. Still, her feathers ruffled more than she wanted to admit.
“Go away, Bernard,” she scolded. “I’ll find myself a blanket and continue reading.”
“There is glass all over your chair.”
“Then I will find a different chair.” The words might have sounded more like a snarl than human words. “You’re distracting me.”
“Of course, mademoiselle.” He bowed mockingly, then left the library with a jaunty walk.
Was he trying to drive her mad? It didn’t matter the King had someone else in his life. Good for Alexandre.
She limped over to another chair, much farther away from the windows where cold air now streamed into the room. She would stay as long as she could survive the shivers before she finally gave up. Her father hadn’t raised her as a weakling who was afraid of a little chill in the air.
Amicia opened the book in her hands a little too hard. The spine cracked with a satisfying creak that made her want to snap open the others as well. It was easy to imagine the book as Alexandre’s spine, snapping underneath her hand, because he would clearly become distracted now that the woman had arrived.
No one could blame a man for being distracted by a woman’s beauty. Not that the female Dread was beautiful by any standards.
That thought was a little too black, even for Amicia. She grumbled under her breath, “I suppose she was pretty in the way of the Dread.”
Muscles had hardened the female’s body, strong and capable where Amicia was not. The Dread all were far stronger than a human, and her wings had been rather impressive. They were more delicate than her male counterparts, though still adequate.
Amicia sighed. The Dread would find their own kind attractive. Just as she didn’t find Alexandre attractive, although his red eyes were more expressive than before and his arms and chest were more reassuring than frightening.
She closed the book with a harsh thump and set it aside. Thoughts like this would get her nowhere and lingering on images of his body would only frustrate her more.
She hadn’t lied when she told Bernard they were merely partners. That was the truth of her reality and she couldn’t let that change. Not for anything or anyone.
The wind rushed from the windows, bending around her and slipping past the bookshelf at her back. It whistled down a long hall she couldn’t see, yet another of the servant passages lacing throughout the chateau.
This was where she had first seen him, saw the King of the Dread when he had stepped into the library and when she’d realized he read books. Perhaps as much as she did in her spare time.
If she had stopped to think about her next actions, Amicia would have picked up the book and started reading again. She would have forgotten all about broken windows, intimidating Dread females, and what the King did in his spare time.
But she didn’t think. Not even a little.
Her feet carried her away from the chair, back to the bookshelf where a small lever opened up into the servants’ passages. They were big enough for her to move through, even with the crutches hindering her pace.
She shouldn’t even try to do this. She should turn right back around, go back to the library, and bury herself in a book. Distractions were necessary when temptation called.
But her feet wouldn’t stop moving.
Amicia argued with herself all the way to the sharp right turn that would take her to the King’s chambers. She knew this only because she’d seen where his room was, and…
There were no excuses. She shouldn’t know anything about his personal life at all. They were acquaintances, slowly becoming friends.
Yet, she was curious about his life. She was curious about the way he lived, how he felt, what his memories were. She wanted to know his history and all the stories he could tell her. Curiosity burned in her chest, questions a thousand-fold she needed answers for.
Amicia tried to think of a single reason for her to spy on him. To find herself in the walls once again, when he was trying to find some privacy with this… woman. Not a monster. She couldn’t call Vivienne a monster without also calling Alexandre a monster.
And she didn’t think of him as a beast anymore.
She reached the hidden wall behind his room all too soon. Amicia stared at the hole in the wall, the one that would allow her to see what they were doing, and told herself to go back to the library. She had made the journey to his room. She’d done what her heart wanted, but she could still turn away.
Her feet took her forward, and her back bent so she could stare through the small sliver into the room beyond. The hole pointed at the large, crumbling fireplace, still lit, where she had slept beside him. Amicia could still feel the heat of his great hand resting atop hers.
Alexandre stood before the fireplace, his silhouette larger than life and impossibly strong. The smaller Dread, Vivienne, circled him like a hunting beast.
“A human, Alexandre?” the female Dread asked. “You know the decree of the Alchemists.”
“I do.”
“All humans must die or become one of the Dread. That is what they charged us with. Are you going back on your word? Against the greatest of all living beings?”
Alexandre’s wings flexed, stretching so wide she could see the fire glimmering through the webbing. “I am not planning on breaking my vow.”
“Then why are you keeping her?” Vivienne snarled.
Amicia could see the other woman’s face now. A twisted expression marred her beauty, teeth bared, brows furrowed, and a feral look in her eyes made Amicia wonder what had angered the woman. Amicia wasn’t a threat. The Dread must know the truth. A little human couldn’t compete with someone like her.
Could she?
With a low rumble deep in his chest, Alexandre turned toward Vivienne. His face was cast in profile, fire playing across the harsh, stone-like features. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
Vivienne’s entire demeanor changed the moment he showed frustration. Her expression softened, her shoulders slumped forward, and she reached out with delicate hands to touch his face. “Mon cherie,” she murmured, her voice a soothing rasp. “You may keep a pet if you wish, you know I will not judge you for such a thing, but you must tell me.”
“A pet?” Alexandre repeated.
“Yes, of course.” Vivienne tugged his face down and ghosted her lips over his. “That is all humans are, wouldn’t you agree? Animals compared to us.”
Amicia felt her throat closing up, tightening with anxiety and fear. What would he say? He couldn’t agree when they had come so far. Together, they would find out what was happening here. He had shown her so much of himself, his own insecurity, his fear, his history.
He wouldn’t think of her as an animal, would he?
The darkened silhouette of his body curved around Vivienne. He wrapped his arms around the female Dread, and she heard his answer groaned, “You are right, my general. They are little more than animals.”
Amicia’s heart thudded hard against her ribcage. Her breathing grew erratic, and shame made her shake. She turned too quickly, the tip of her crutch clacking against the wall.
“What was that?” she heard Vivienne ask, but Amicia didn’t slow.
She wasn’t here to make friends. She wasn’t here to be kind to th
e King of the Dread who had destroyed her city, her home, her family. Pity was a weakness she had succumbed to for a few moments.
Now, all she had was the desire for freedom. And she would do whatever it took to free herself from the clutches of the Dread.
Chapter 25
She avoided them all for days afterward. They couldn’t help her seek answers, and thus, talking to them was a waste of time.
Amicia had poured over the tiny book for hours until her eyes crossed and her head felt as though it would split open. She might have stopped if last night there hadn’t been the faintest glimmer of hope. For a fraction of a second, the lines on the blue book had stopped wiggling, and she’d seen a single word.
Celestials.
Crutches clacking on the floor, she made her way through the empty kitchen. Most of the Dread were likely in the Great Hall, feasting upon their breakfast, unaware their human pet was working already.
She reached for an apple with her bad arm, pleased that the ache was barely there now that she had stretched it out. Last night was the first day she’d taken it out of the bandages and wiggled her fingers, lifted the appendage up and over her head.
The injury didn’t bother her anymore. The leg, of course, was another story. That particular ache still plagued her, but nowhere near as bad as before. It appeared she healed faster in this place, though it had still taken a long time. She was almost ready to be back in fighting shape.
She palmed the bright pink apple and lifted it to the candlelight. No fruit should grow this time of year. Dried apples she might have expected, but an apple such as this? With flesh perfectly formed, the roundness crisp and firm?
This place was different from the rest of the world, even the food reminding her of that. And she needed to get out of here as quickly as possible.
Amicia left the kitchens with a blanket around her shoulders, apple in hand, and a book in the pockets of her thick woolen dress. It was the plainest piece she could find in all the outfits she had been given. The wool had been dyed a lovely, pale pink. The skirts were cut like rose petals, laying out around her body and swishing with her movements.
Somehow, it still kept her warm. She stepped outside, her momentum swinging open the door and pushing her toward the gardens of the chateau. There she might find a little solitude among the frozen trees, and the hidden statues.
Her feet crunched through the top layer of snow, the snapping sounds echoing in the near silent courtyard. No birds sang, no wings fluttered, nothing but the sound of her own movement.
“Strange,” she muttered as she made her way to a bench that had seen better days. One corner had been demolished. The other side was suitable for her to sit upon as it balanced diagonally on the rubble.
She propped one foot up on a stone and stretched out her bad leg, then leaned back against the bench supporting her back. It would do for reading.
Amicia set the little blue book in her lap and took a big bite out of the apple in her hand. “Well,” she began, “we meet again.”
If she had believed in magic more than science, she might have thought the book scoffed at her. It certainly sounded like it when she turned the pages to the part where she had seen the word.
“Tell me your secrets today,” she breathed. “What could you be holding onto so desperately?”
In the frigid air, the book came alive. The lines that had moved, squiggled like someone was writing over them again and again, froze. Words appeared in a handwriting that was both elegant and aggressive. Words in a language she understood.
Amicia leaned forward and read the words aloud, “The Celestials were sent from the sky. Legends say a great beam of light sent their people from high above the clouds. One for each of the Kingdoms of Ember. One for each King.
“They were sent to guide the humans into a new life, a better one. Though the Celestials were all different and came from different constellations, they all were similar in size and build.
“Beautiful is the word all used to describe them. Gilded as though they were dipped in gold themselves. Some darker than others, some so pale they were almost diamond in appearance.
“Humans did not know how to accept them at first. Winged beings had walked into our kingdoms with abilities beyond our reckoning. Some Kingdoms accepted them. Others tried to chase them from the borders and into the wilds. None left.
“Eventually, the Celestials were understood to be what they were. Kind. Here to assist. Their only purpose to ensure that humanity did what we were meant to do. Build a better place for all.”
Amicia turned the page to see a diagram, a crude sketch perhaps, but one that startled her. The charcoal man was stunning. Even in the artist’s limited ability, he had captured the painful glory of the Celestials.
Four wings stretched from the man’s back, feathered and pale. His face was magnificent, haunting even. But it was the gold-dipped pieces the artist had layered over the portrait that captivated her. He had drawn along the edges of the wings, as if each feather had been plunged in molten splendor.
These Celestials must have been marvelous. If they were so unusual, she understood why the humans would have feared them. But it made little sense to shun them if they were here to help.
Of course, she didn’t understand why they had come. The passage she’d read hadn’t explained that. Beings falling from the clouds to help humanity? Why?
She turned the page again, only to find the words moving once more.
“Come on,” she muttered, closing the book and then opening it again. “You have more to say!”
Apparently, the book was done with her reading today. The words didn’t stop moving other than the ones she’d already read. The diagram was still painful to look upon, and the explanation only brought about a hundred more questions.
She reached for the apple and finished it quickly. “Did you want me to eat? Fine, I’m done. Let me read more.”
Amicia chucked the apple over her shoulder and heard it hit the snow with a soft thud. If the book wanted to take care of her, then she would eat a hundred apples. But the blue vellum revealed nothing more than the three pages it had already showed her.
“Playing hard to get,” she snarled. “Fine then, I will reread every word a hundred times if that’s what it takes. I understand the message. I’ll memorize everything you’ve shown me, and then you will tell me even more.”
The day passed slowly. Over and over, she read the words, murmuring them under her breath, trying to figure out what the book wanted her to understand. But there was nothing to understand.
The Celestials were beings who came from the clouds. They were sent to help humans. She understood that part, and yet, the book showed her nothing else.
Was she supposed to have some kind of epiphany before it could show her more?
She reached beside her, picked up the apple, and bit into the crisp, pink side and chewed thoughtfully. The book had to have some kind of hidden meaning. Or there was some secret she didn’t understand.
Magic wasn’t real. This wasn’t some cursed book that knew what she was thinking and how much she understood of what it wanted to tell. Which meant there might be a latch on the side or some kind of switch so small she didn’t know where it was.
Her father had known a clockworker who could create things like this. Tiny objects with the smallest of switches that looked like the hands of a clock, or a sword that could be removed from a nutcracker’s hand. That’s what she should look for.
“More and more secrets,” she muttered as she turned the book over and over in her hand. “More and more…”
Amicia paused and looked at the apple in her hand. She’d only brought one apple with her. One was hard enough to carry, let alone juggling two when she already had her hands full with a book and crutches.
She stared long and hard at the red surface before she finished with one more bite and set it down. This one she wouldn’t throw away. This one, she kept right beside her. Just in case.
&n
bsp; “I don’t believe in magic,” she repeated, looking at the book. “But…”
Another apple rolled through the snow and landed at her side. A few bits of crusty snow stuck to the stem.
“I know you’re there,” she called out. “What I don’t understand is why you’re throwing fruit at me.”
Snow crunched as someone approached, but Amicia refused to look around. There were only two people here who would roll food at her. Only two people who would even consider that she wasn’t eating enough.
Bernard was unlikely to be outside. He claimed to have an aversion to all the things in areas not controlled by his own cleaning method. Amicia couldn’t blame him for that. He didn’t like any flecks of dirt on his table, let alone his clothing.
Which could only leave one other Dread, and the one she had been trying very hard to not think about today.
“If you’re working this hard, I thought you might need more than a single apple.” The grumbled words sent gooseflesh dancing across her arms.
How was it that his voice could make her shiver far more than the icy air? She could handle the harshest of environments but the mere timbre of his voice made her weak. It was shameful.
It made her heart race.
Amicia stared down at the book a little harder, resolving to not look at him. “I’ll eat later, thank you.”
“And yet, it appears that you are not reading that much after all.” Alexandre sank down into the snow beside her. He crouched on his haunches, looking very much like the gargoyles on top of Little Marsh’s greatest mansion.
“I’m reading,” she snapped in response. “The book showed me its secrets.”
“Has it?” He lifted a brow. “And what secrets are those?”
“That the Celestials were sent here to help humanity. At least, that’s what they believe. I know what the Celestials looked like. They were gilded, winged creatures who many thought were dangerous in the beginning.” She didn’t know much more, but she trailed off her words like she might.
He nodded, his gaze drifting through her as though he were brooding over the subject. “Yes, I believe that is correct. The Celestials were sent to… help.”