Hania tottered back, having located the book he was looking for. He handed the thick, obviously aged tome to Nerissa. A few bits of leather flaked away in her hands.
“This is the last known copy of this book remaining. Perhaps the Senka have one as well. It is a history that dates from King Gared’s time. We are uncertain how much of the story is explicitly true and how much is an embellishment. Many stories of Gared’s life and accomplishments have become exaggerated over time. However, this book is of reasonably good providence. I, and many Chief Advisors before me, consider it to be the most reliable account of his life. You will find the answer to your question in here. It is a better explanation of the origin of the tradition than we could manage to retell here. You’ll probably learn quite a few other things that were not in your history lessons too. This would be an excellent book for you to start with.”
Nerissa ran her hand over the thick book. The cover was embossed with the image of a phoenix and dragon chasing each other’s tail. In the center, was a thornless rose, the stem of which was clutched by each of the surrounding creatures’ claws. Nerissa recognized the symbol immediately as the original crest of Renatus. The title of the book, which was stamped above the crest in now flaking gold leaf, read The History of the Phoenix, the Dragon, and the Rose. The author’s name had nearly disappeared, but Nerissa could barely make out their title Chief Advisor to Gared, the first King of Renatus.
“The first Chief Advisor,” Nerissa said with awe. “Hania, I think you are being unnecessarily humble regarding this book’s providence.”
“No book can tell the whole story of a time,” he said. “This is just one book in the collection. Others here contain the genealogy of the Royal Family, dating all the way back to Gared. The Records of the Ohanzee describe the history of politics and culture in Chiyo, similar to that which you have already studied but include our contributions to events as well.”
Einar checked his watch. “We should be moving on to the next destination. I have another appointment to get to later this afternoon.”
Chapter 14
Treasures
Not far from the Archives stood a nondescript wooden building. Nestled among a cluster of trees at the foot of the cliffs, the tiny structure was less of a building and more of a hut. Next to the door sat a high-backed chair and a rack containing dozens of small glow lamps.
“I’ll wait here,” Hania said, settling into the chair as Haku pulled a key ring with two keys from his pocket.
“Is that my cue to start making the usual rounds?” Jin asked.
“That won’t be necessary today,” Hania answered. “Stay and keep me company for a while.”
Jin sat down in the grass beside Hania as Haku turned the key in the lock to open the door. Nerissa stepped inside, followed by Haku and Einar carrying the rack of glow lamps. The hut consisted of a single room, which was unadorned aside from a woven rug on the floor, a few large pillows, and a fireplace on the far wall.
“Is this the mysterious place?” Nerissa asked. “If so, I have to say it is somewhat anti-climactic. And it is definitely not any cooler in here than it is outside.”
“Did I say we were there yet?” Einar replied flatly. Haku smirked but said nothing as he locked the entryway door from the inside. Einar then bent over and pulled back the rug to reveal another door in the floor.
“Does that make it more interesting?” Haku asked, seeing Nerissa’s raised eyebrow.
He crossed the room, unlocked the door in the floor with the second key, and swung it upward. Beneath it was an opening with a ladder leading down into the darkness. They clambered down surrounded by cool, dry air and walked until a stone wall blocked their path. Upon reaching the dead end, Einar placed two of the glow lamps on hooks that protruded from the walls on either side of the corridor. There was an audible click and the sound of something heavy moving. A series of holes appeared in the wall to the left. Einar reached into one of the holes and began turning some sort of mechanism. The clicking of the gears echoed throughout the tunnel.
“What is this place?” Nerissa wondered out loud.
“This is the entrance to the vault where the treasury of the Royal Family is stored,” Haku answered. “The device on the wall is a type of lock. There are cranks in each of the holes that have to be turned a specific number of times, in the correct order and direction, for the door to open. In addition, it is protected by a mechanism to deter anyone from attempting to guess the combination.”
“How does it work?” Nerissa asked.
“It will trigger if you make two mistakes. First, a clamp locks down on the intruder’s hand while they hold the crank. Then, a blade drops from above the holes in the wall, cutting off their hand. In the process, the blade also severs the cables connected to the door so that it can no longer be used to open the vault.”
Nerissa stared at Haku wide eyed, then anxiously watched Einar as he moved along the wall. He reached into the openings with no hesitation. She would never have guessed that such a violent mechanism lay behind the rock face. After a few more tense moments, a click echoed through the chamber, followed by a low rumbling. In the glow of the lamps, Nerissa could see that the stone wall in front of them was slowly rising upward.
“Let’s go,” Einar said after the noise ceased.
Once they were several feet inside, they stopped again. Nerissa could just make out that there was a hook attached to one of the cables near the ceiling. Haku reached up and hung one of the glow lamps he carried onto the hook and nodded to Einar. He turned the handle of a crank on the nearby wall. With a creaking groan, the cable and lamp lurched forward and then suddenly came to a halt. An empty hook now hung overhead. Haku placed the second lamp on that hook, and Einar turned the crank again. They continued doing so until all ten of the glow lamps were hanging from the ceiling, spanning the length of the cavern. The lighting was still dim, but now it was sufficient for Nerissa to see what the space held. The walls were lined with large chests and trunks, some stacked nearly to the ceiling. Among those were scattered smaller containers which had glass doors or tops. Oddly shaped forms covered with dust covers were distributed randomly among the boxes. Nerissa looked through the glass top of the nearest small chest and saw a sparkling necklace, bracelet, and earrings lying on velvet. She remembered her mother wearing the set many years ago.
Looking back at Einar and Haku questioningly, she asked, “Is this…?”
“This is the Royal Family’s vault and the personal treasury of the Blood,” Haku said. “All of this is yours to do with as you wish.”
Nerissa’s throat was suddenly dry. She had always known that her family was very wealthy, and she had an idea of the balance of money kept in her family’s account at the bank in Niamh. That amount was already more than any reasonable person would ever need. The amount of savings in the National Treasury was enough to run Chiyo for well over a year. Judging by the size and number of chests in this cave, there was easily ten times more than that here. If she were to move against Casimer, this would certainly be enough to fund the effort.
Nerissa pulled the dusty sheet back from a nearby painting. She had some knowledge of art, and the skill of this artist was remarkable. It was clearly an older style, but despite the apparent age, none of the colors appeared to have faded at all. The subject of the painting was most intriguing. A woman and a phoenix were posed in the center. The way they were positioned, it was impossible to tell whether she was riding on the bird’s back or standing with the bird coiling around her. Orange-red feathers of flame intertwined and intermixed with swirls of fabric in her white gown. Curls of hair streamed around her face like black flames, interwoven with those of the phoenix. The woman and the bird were turned toward one another, yet both were focused on a red gem between them. It floated above the woman’s outstretched hands. The painting was beautiful, but something about it made the hairs on the back of Nerissa’s neck stand up. She looked down at the nameplate, which was affixed to the center po
rtion of the bottom of the frame. It read in large letters The Phoenix. Oddly, there was no artist’s name in the empty area below the title.
Nerissa dropped the sheet back over the painting and continued to walk randomly among the boxes, opening the lids of some to peer inside. The wealth accumulated here was incredible, but the amount of history behind the items was even more so. She let herself wander, stopping to look through containers and pulling back sheets where she felt drawn.
One such container was a tiny chest sitting on a stack of other boxes. There was nothing remarkable about it. Due to its size, it could easily be lost or overlooked in this crowded, dim place. Yet, something about it caught Nerissa’s eye. The latch clicked sharply as it released, and the sound made Nerissa worry that it might have broken. The wood of the chest was obviously old. Ridges protruded from the surface such that she could feel the pattern of the wood by running her fingers over it. The metal findings were plain and rust covered. Inside lay only one item: a cloth pouch. Strands of the fabric flaked off into Nerissa’s hand as she picked it up. Careful not to break the fragile cord, she opened it and reached inside. It felt like the contents were mostly powder. There were a few small bits that were sharp like shards of glass. There was a bigger piece too, but she couldn’t quite wrap her fingers around it. Did it feel hot to the touch? No, it must have been her imagination.
Curious, Nerissa poured the contents of the pouch into a small pile on top of a nearby chest. Scattered within the pinkish-red powder were crimson shards. She traced a finger through the dust, found the larger piece, and pulled it out. The deep-red crystal, several inches long, glittered in the lamplight. Cradling the shard in her palm, she blew on it to remove the rest of the powder. As she did, though Nerissa did not see it, the stone briefly glowed like a hot coal.
“May I take this with me?” Nerissa called out to Einar and Haku who were talking quietly near the entrance.
They both made their way over to where Nerissa was standing. Upon seeing the stone in her hand, Einar chuckled to himself.
“Of all the treasures here, this is what you want? Haku asked, surprised.
“Is that alright?” she asked.
“Of course,” Haku replied, still stunned. “I told you before that all of this belongs to you now.”
Nerissa coiled her hand tightly around the shard. This would be the first stone to replace her lost collection—and it was a fine piece to start with. She brushed the pile of powder back into the pouch as best she could and returned it to the tiny chest, then continued wandering among the containers.
Einar and Haku remained there. “Of all the treasures here, that is what she wanted,” Haku repeated. “Antiques, jewelry, art—everything belongs to her and what is the first thing she takes for herself? A piece of a broken rock.”
“I’m not surprised,” Einar said. He wore a look of pride on his face. “Once you get to know her better, you’ll understand.”
Chapter 15
A Pleasant and Unpleasant Surprise
The cobblestones were smooth and uncomfortably hot beneath Raysel's bare feet as he made his way through the village. Perhaps he should have worn sandals, but the feeling of being barefoot put a spring in his step after weeks of wearing sweaty shoes for training. His pace was leisurely, as was the pace of those around him. It was too hot to move any faster in the late afternoon heat.
Raysel's mood was lighter than it had been in recent weeks. It was not just because today was his first full day off from training. Even his day off wasn’t a day of rest. His younger sister, Aravind, had once again exhausted her supply of burn cream, and Raysel had gladly volunteered to be the one to fetch a refill from Ildiko. He had never known another person that was even remotely as clumsy as Aravind was, but she didn’t let that daunt her determination to become a blacksmith like their mother. The forge was closed for cleaning today meaning her skin should be safe—at least from burns—until tomorrow, so Raysel saw no particular reason to hurry.
Humming to himself while tossing and catching the squat little jar in one hand, he gazed up at the sky where puffy clouds drifted lazily by. The ends of the red sash draped around his waist swayed in rhythm with his long ponytail as he walked. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it felt like something good was about to happen.
Raysel had nearly reached his destination when he spotted a familiar shadow lurking at the foot of one of the trees a short distance from the path. Rian's mood was so plain that Raysel could almost see a gray fog hovering around him like a rain cloud. It wasn't really a surprise. Rian had a tendency to brood and was often wont to disappear to one of his hiding places when he wanted to be alone. This behavior had become particularly frequent in the weeks since Casimer's attack on Niamh. It wasn't how Raysel chose to handle his frustration and regret, but it was Rian's way and had been for as long as Raysel could remember.
Despite the differences in their personalities, or perhaps even because of them, the two had been friends for as long as he could remember. Raysel had an idea of what was on his friend's mind, but Rian had been unwilling to talk about it so far. Two months had passed since the attack, and Rian’s mood had been persistently dark ever since. Raysel had learned long ago that it was generally best to leave Rian alone when he was in this state. He couldn’t blame his friend for being upset, considering all that had happened. But his moodiness had lingered for far too long. Raysel himself had felt much the same way at first, but recently his gloom had been tempered by that vague, hopeful sensation. Rian didn't acknowledge his approach, so Raysel decided to continue on and made a mental note to stop and talk if he were still lurking there on the way back.
A little while later, Raysel arrived at the doorstep of Ildiko and Einar's home. He knocked once and then again, louder, a moment later.
"Ildiko? Hello?" he said, beginning to worry as he opened the door and poked his head in.
Ildiko had been in comparatively good health lately, he reminded himself. She was probably just busy cleaning or caring for a patient and hadn't heard him. Nonetheless, something could have happened to her while Einar was away, so Raysel let himself in and walked from one room to the next looking for her. There was no sign of anyone inside the house, not even the mysterious injured young nobleman. Raysel strode across the last room and pushed open the door that lead into the grassy area behind the house. Two silhouettes moved among the many lines of laundry hung out to dry, and Raysel exhaled in relief.
As he was about to call out to Ildiko, the wind stirred and lifted the sheet that had been obscuring his view of the nearest figure. Their eyes locked in surprise for a fleeting moment before the sheet descended once again. His pulse raced as the jolt of seeing those eyes again froze him in place. Her head was wrapped in a scarf, her eyes were hollow, and her cheeks were sunken to an extent that her face was nearly unrecognizable, but he had no doubt it was her. Those green eyes could only belong to one person. The person he had watched over practically every day for the last three years. The person who he had been born to protect, and the very one he had failed to protect that night. He had recognized her behind the mask she had worn at the masquerade, and he recognized her now. He tried to say her name, but his throat was so tight that he was unable to make a sound.
"Ildiko, we have another visitor," Nerissa said.
Though tinged with uncertainty, the sweet familiarity of her voice made Raysel’s heart soar. It was a voice he had thought he would never hear again.
"A visitor? No one else was supposed to come over today," Ildiko's voice trailed off as the second silhouette set down their basket. Ildiko emerged from the fabric jungle a second later. "Raysel! What brings you here today? And with my home in such disarray!"
"I think it is safe to say that everyone's home is in disarray when they do laundry, Ildiko," Raysel began.
Ildiko started talking before he could say another word and hastily shooed him back into the house. "Nevertheless, I'd rather not be the one to confirm that theory. I was not exp
ecting company."
“Ildiko, what is Nerissa doing here?" Raysel asked. He craned his head, trying unsuccessfully to see her once more before the petite woman all but shoved him back into the house.
"Nerissa?” Ildiko looked at him like he had sprouted a second head. She pressed one of her palms to his cheek as if checking his temperature. “Has the heat taken your mind?"
"The person helping you is Nerissa! I saw her," Raysel said. He nearly stumbled over his own two feet as Ildiko continued to herd him through the house.
"You are mistaken," Ildiko replied flatly.
"No, I'm not," Raysel insisted as he was forced backward out the front door. “I saw her! I would know her anywhere!”
"Then you are delusional." Ildiko stopped in the doorway. She raised her chin as she spoke and folded her arms firmly across her waist. "The person out back is a cousin of the late Heiress. He is the closest blood relation to the Royal Family remaining. They bear a familial resemblance and that is all. If you keep talking that way, people will begin to think you've gone mad. Am I making myself clear?"
The only thing that was clear was that Ildiko had no intention of admitting the truth or letting him anywhere near Nerissa right now.
"I understand.” Raysel gritted his teeth. He would have to concede for now. “It was quite a shock to see such an uncanny resemblance. I'm sorry to have surprised you. When no one answered the door, I was worried so I let myself in. Aravind noticed this morning that she needs a refill of the burn salve." He placed the nearly empty jar into Ildiko's now outstretched palm.
"I see. How fortunate for her that the forge is closed today," Ildiko's voice was lighter now. She acted like their previous conversation had never occurred. "Einar will bring the jar over later tonight."
Before Raysel could say anything more, Ildiko snapped the door shut, mere inches from his nose. “Apparently the forge isn't the only thing closed today," Raysel remarked, rubbing his nose protectively and feeling a bit perturbed by the near miss.
Reflection: The Stranger in the Mirror Page 14