Page 46 of Their Queen

Cyerra smiled, bouncing on her toes. “Of course.” She grabbed my arm and apparently Jonathan’s as well as she compressed us back into smoke form, squeezing us through the branches and drifting through the opening of what looked like an ancient temple.

As soon as we had made it inside, she released her magic and smirked at us. “A little warning next time,” I growled at her as I stumbled upon landing, not happy with her snatching us up without notice.

She giggled in response. Great, just what I needed. Another female in my life that got her kicks from aggravating me. Jonathan had taken a few steps further into the temple, his attention on our surroundings as he eyed the walls, before turning to look at me over his shoulder. “A little light?”

Obliging, I stepped up next to him while calling fire into my hand. Cradling a small ball of flame, I held it up to the stone, noticing some kind of inscription for the first time. Cyerra walked over until her nose was nearly touching the damp stone, tilting her head as she studied the writings. “What are they?”

As she spoke, her smoke drifted from her, her tattoos glowing on her skin. “Um. Cyerra,” I stuttered, not sure how to tell her that this place was having an effect on her.

When she turned with an eyebrow raised in question, Jonathan thankfully spoke up. “The writings look like your tattoos, which are now glowing, by the way.”

“What!?” she exclaimed, jumping back from the wall, looking down at her bare arms to see the blue hints of color that faded the further she got from the wall, from luminescent to matte. “What the fuck!?”

“It seems that whatever’s in the stone is reacting to you,” Jonathan said, the same puzzled look on his face that Arryn got when he went into research mode.

“I’ve heard that Ravens aren’t necessarily from these lands. Like the humans and elves, you migrated here thousands of years ago,” I said, not sure where I remembered that fact, but it seemed pertinent now as my brain made the correlation between the two.

“Mother would know, but that’s a history that only the council and Chieftain know, handed down as someone takes up the role,” she said, obviously disconcerted by the connection. I didn’t blame her. This place felt evil and wrong, something that many suspected of the Ravens, but I had since learned that my assumptions had been fallacious. Brannoc had only ever been the tool, not the actual trigger, and the others mostly kept to themselves.

Jonathan stared at a couple of the markings on her arm. “This one here is on the wall. What do they say?” he asked, turning back to study the wall again.

Her eyes dipped to where he pointed before speaking. “That one means ‘swift’. The tattoos are earned. A story of our accomplishments, proficiencies, status in the community, and traits we’re born with. Everything you could want to know about us is written on our skin when we reach maturity.”

“But Brannoc’s are a different color, black instead of the soft blue?” I stated the truth, but was also asking a question, intrigued by why that was. I had noticed it back at the Enclave, but it hadn’t seemed important at the time.

I held up the flame, pushing it closer to the wall as Jonathan continued to study the inscriptions that covered the stones from floor to ceiling, a story that we couldn’t hope to understand. Not any time soon. “The color comes from our connection with each other and with participation in our ceremonies. When we come of age, we all have black tattoos. It’s only when we drink and partake in the food prepared for our feast that they turn blue. The colors vary to a degree depending on our heritage. I assume that his are still black because he’s never been a part of our Enclave. Not really.”

Nodding, I turned to Jonathan and asked, “Anything?”

He sighed, stepping back. “No. However, do we have parchment or paper? I’ll also need something like charcoal. I want to create a rubbing. Something to take back with us to study in more detail.”

Cyerra dug in her bag and pulled out the wax paper that had been used to wrap her cheese, munching on what was left of it while handing the paper to Jonathan. I turned and headed back to the foliage and vines, snapping off a small branch. After stripping it of leaves, I then burned it slightly with my fire to create what he needed. Handing it over, I took the wax paper from him. Holding my flame a short distance from the surface, careful not to burn it, I melted the wax, the remnants left to drip onto the floor. Satisfied, I handed it back to him as well.

He promptly turned and began rubbing different symbols from various sections. As he worked, he drifted through the large room, and I sent my flame ahead to light his way. Cyerra and I followed quietly, taking in the rest of the temple. Statues of foreign beings with Ravens on their shoulders lined the hall in intervals. Their appearances were similar to the High Fae, but the lines of their bodies and faces were harsher and sharper.

As we reached the back of the temple, I noticed a doorway. “What’s this?” I asked, though it was rhetorical. Jonathan’s attention turned to see what I’d found. I pushed on the door, but it didn’t budge, holding fast. “Wonder what’s back there?”

“Should we really be pushing our luck? Why do I get the feeling that we won’t like what we find if we do get in there?” Cyerra asked.

I shrugged as I answered her. “We need to bring something back. Something other than these rubbings. Something here caught Titania’s attention, and we need to figure out what it was. If we don’t then this mission has effectively failed. No offense, Jonathan, but I don’t think we’ll figure out that language in time.”

“None taken,” he said, more focused now on the room hidden from us.

“What if we all pushed together?” Cyerra suggested, bolstering her courage.

Unable to find an argument to that suggestion, Jonathan and I placed our hands on the door, pushing before she could even join us. It still wouldn’t budge, at least not until Cyerra placed her palms on the stone and her skin began to glow again. A lock clicked, and the door swung open easily. Jonathan and I stared down at Cyerra in shock and question at what had just happened.

She shrugged sheepishly, her cheeks turning pink even in the dim light. “You wanted in the room; seems we’ll get to see what was locked away after all.”

Smirking and gesturing ahead of me, I said, “Ladies first.”

She guffawed. “Age before beauty, I must insist.” Her eyes danced with mirth and only a hint of hesitance about entering the mysterious room.

Jonathan huffed at our antics, pushing between us both and heading through the now-open door. I brought my fire back and sent it ahead of him. Cyerra followed once she was certain that nothing would jump out and eat Jonathan, with me bringing up the rear. I finally got my chance to take in the room that had been locked. Turning in a circle, I was completely perplexed by the plain stone walls and emptiness found there. There was nothing here. Either Titania had already gotten what was in here, or there was nothing here to begin with.

“Maybe someone beat us to it?” Cyerra asked, stepping closer to the walls to see if she was missing something.

“Something was here. Is here. Can’t you feel it?” Jonathan asked, not looking at either of us.

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