Page 72 of The Queen

I swallowed my trepidation. “There’s no time to slow down.” The memory throbbed painfully behind my eyes. If I could, I’d probably curl up and cry, but I couldn’t. “Do you remember my mother having a gold datapad?”

“Not that I recall, but it was a long time ago. If it was here, it’s most likely gone or destroyed.” Lex said.

But what if it wasn’t here? What if it was somewhere else? The memory of the tomb stirred to life.

I fished my mother’s journal from my back pocket. “You said you recognized this archway design. Can you show me?”

He looked at the leather embossed book with the pretty pattern surrounded by flowers. “Of course. It’s not far.”

Lex led the way back down the curved double stairs, through the dim halls, and out of the castle into the greenbelt behind the palace. The beautiful planters and manicured lawns were overrun with haphazard plants, and the cobbled paths were obscured by nature reclaiming the land. But under all that, I could picture where every gurgling fountain and blooming rose used to be.

An oak forest lined the edge of the flat field, hemmed in by the outer curtain wall on one side and a cliff overlooking the river on the other. Lex marched through the rampant weeds sprinkled with wildflowers like cheerful constellations dotting a desolate sky.

The fleeting memory of tall grass and blossoms washed over me and even without Lex, it came to me. I knew where we were going. Under the shadows of the oak trees, headstones glimmered like ethereal wraiths. I remembered thinking they were ghosts in the fog when I was small, and even now I could almost still see it.

The stone carved arch was just outside the edge of the trees, but was completely obscured by tangled vines. All that stood in its place was a mound of weeds and foliage. A blanket of bursting gold and greens in every hue, punctuated by stark white star flowers, covered the entire structure. It was under there. I knew it.

Lex searched along the edge, looking for the arch, but I walked right to it.

“It’s here.” I pushed a handful of vines away, uncovering the curved relief of decorative stonework.

Grey and Lex helped me pull back the thick carpet of greenery that had engulfed the raised arch-pattern carved over a flat stone wall. It was more overgrown than I would have expected, and by the time we were done, I was panting and covered in sweat.

My mates were both watching me as I studied the beautifully designed niche in the wall.

“How does it open?” I asked.

The bees buzzed, and the wind rustled the leaves, but no one had an answer.

“Does it open?” Grey was searching the edges for seams in the stone.

Lex looked curious. “I don’t remember ever seeing it open. It’s an old monument built for the first queen of Verden. I think it’s sealed.”

“No. That can’t be. I remember being inside of it. There were seven stone sarcophagi.” I wanted to tell them that I’d seen the datapad in there too, but my mother told me it was only for Queens. Had she told my father about it? They’d been star blessed. Maybe she had, but it was too late to ask her now.

If it was there, I’d tell them. It was too important to keep a secret.

I pulled her journal out of my pocket and flipped it open. There had to be a trick to the door. Would it have been too convenient if she’d left instructions?

A slip of paper fluttered out, landing at my feet in the weeds.

“What’s this?” Grey picked up the note before I’d even noticed it’d fallen.

When he unfolded it, it was a series of alphanumerics, but I didn’t know what they were for. “The Duke of Spectre gave that to me at the ball. He said to give it to Ghost. I guess I forgot about it with everything going on.”

“It looks like a communication address and an encryption key,” Lex said, studying it over Grey’s shoulder.

Lex had told me the duke may not be trustworthy, and I’d already written off his offer for help. So, I left my mates to sort out what to do with the code he’d given me and turned my attention back to the journal.

In the margins were doodles of star flowers and bees. Her careful, looping text talked about crop rotations and weather patterns. I flipped the page. Average number of days without rain during each season. Flip. Flip. The last approximate date for frost in the capital. Flip. Astronomical tables. Flip. Flip. Flip. The best date to geld colts. Flip. Recipes for seasonal crops. There was nothing here.

Unhelpful in the moment but cherished, if only because it was in her hand. Probably the only thing left in the universe with her handwriting on it. I breathed out a sigh. It couldn’t have been that easy. I hugged the book to my chest before sliding it back into my pocket.

What had she told me when we were here last? Her smiling brown eyes flickered before me. “The crown will weigh heavily on your brow, but your blood will guide you.”

I ran my hands over the archway carved into the solid rock face. There were no hinges and no visible seams.

My blood would guide me? My blood wasn’t doing anything.

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