Page 76 of The Great and Terrible

Judging by Jasher’ flat tone, he didn’t think I would. But I’d overcome worse odds.

Our group came to the end of the forest, but not Dead Man’s Pass. Other crumbling roads extended from various parts of the forest, but all led to a colossal dome seemingly made of smoked glass and big enough to cover an entire state. The only visible landmark was an equally large iron gate studded with emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds. Currently closed. No one stood nearby.

“The grand entrance to the City of Lux,” Jasher said and sighed.

My breath caught. We had arrived. But what awaited us inside the dome?

CHAPTER 19

THE WONDERFUL CITY OF LUX

Tension pulsed from the pegacorn as they descended, but our landing proved smooth. They galloped from air to land, slowing and stopping in front of the glittering gate. Jasher dismounted and helped me do the same.

Somewhere deep inside, in a corridor of my heart open for the first time, I discerned the winged beauties intensions. They’d taken us as far as they could go and must now leave. I even recognized why. They didn’t trust the Guardian.

What I couldn’t discern was the reason for their lack of trust. If they had observed him doing terrible things, or if they simply didn’t know him.

“Did you serve my parents,” I asked, petting them both. “Do you miss my mother as much as I do? Did you witness the king’s death, as the mural indicated?”

Soft whinnies met my questions, but the answers never formed.

I nuzzled and kissed their snouts. “Thank you for shaving days off my trip and for providing such a lovely ride.” A chuckle bubbled up as a pegacorn nibbled on my hair and the other rested his chin on my shoulder. “Next time—” My smile fell as the words died.There might not be a next time. Choices paved the road of destiny, and I’d made mine. I would try to come back, but I had no guarantees.

“Thank you,” I repeated. “I’ll always remember your kindness.”

They backed up, turned and galloped toward the forest. As they neared the trees, they stretched their wings and launched skyward, soaring higher until disappearing into the clouds.

I faced the gate, suddenly feeling as if I balanced on a precipice of something great and terrible. Jasher approached my side and slid his hand into mine, giving me a squeeze.

“Don’t say it,” I rasped.

“Don’t say what?”

“What I’m going to miss if I leave.” I knew.

“If?” he echoed, and I realized my mistake.

“When,” I corrected.

“So how do we get in?” Patch asked, running her hands over the iron.

“We knock,” Jasher replied, rapping his knuckles against the center crack in the gate. The sound rang out as if it traveled through a hundred different tunnels.

I examined the dome up close. Stone, not glass. I knocked it, too. A light rap of my knuckles that produced the same discordant song.

Only seconds later, gears began cranking and creaking. The huge double doors swung open slowly on rusty hinges, and out marched a band with members dressed in a rainbow of colors, feathered plumes rising from their top hats. The scent of cupcakes accompanied them.

Jasher tugged me backward, out of the contact zone. The lines separated, one going left, the other heading right. Their bright, cheery music filled the air. When the last player found his mark, women wearing gauzy dresses danced out, each throwing colorful flower petals that twirled to the ground,creating a soft carpet and filling the sweetened air with a floral perfume.

In a mimic of the band, two lines of armed guards decked out in full silver armor, followed. The shields on their helmets hid their faces. They, too, split down the middle and branched off, joining the band while the women continued to dance all around in time to the music.

Leona laughed, clapped, and reached up to catch petals while Patch stood stiff and uncertain, as if preparing to fight everyone. Heart thumping, I inched closer to Jasher. To my great delight, he tightened his hold on my hand.

Comfort rained over me. “Is this a standard welcome?” I whispered.

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Not even close.”

A tall, leanly muscled and very familiar man with dark waves of hair and eyes like a sunset emerged with a toothy grin, his arms spread wide. “Welcome, welcome.” He was an older version of Jasher. An exact copy, actually, aged thirty or so years, and he wore a white tunic and beige leathers. “I am the Guardian of this great city.”

---