Page 16 of Court of Bone and Amethyst

A muscle rolls in Zyren’s jaw, but he nods and the tension in the air dissipates. “If we can find a spell in that library to send this beast back to its master, that would certainly help matters.”

“There’s no telling what we will find,” Owyn says. “But it’s certainly worth trying.”

I stand up from the table. “Let’s go, then. I want to see my mother’s library.”

Zyren stands, too, but he places a hand on my arm. “It’s nearly dawn, Sarielle. Perhaps first you should rest.”

I consider protesting, but he’s right. We’d ridden all night, the last part under extreme duress. I’m exhausted. I want to see my mother’s library more badly than anything. It’s the only thing I have left of her. But I can wait until morning, when I’m not bleary-eyed and running on nothing but adrenaline.

Owyn says, “Merla and I will go fill a couple of old grain sacks with hay from the barn so you have something to sleep on.” He gestures to his apprentice, and they stride from the room.

When they’ve disappeared from sight, Zyren turns to me. “How are you feeling?”

“Not like I’m going to lose control, if that’s what you mean,” I say, an edge to my tone.

“Yes,” Zyren says. “But not only that.” He pauses. “I know it must be hard being here.”

I look around at the abandoned castle, at the cobwebs and missing windows and broken furniture. It smells of death and the ocean here. “It is,” I say shakily. “But it’s also all I have left of them.”

At that moment, there’s a huge boom outside.

Zyren and I look at each other. “It appears Avonia’s army has arrived,” he says darkly.

I follow him as he jogs from the room, weaving his way through the castle back to the door. Once there, we stare at the gate. My heart pounds, even though I know the spell will keep them out. Another crash comes, and the gate shudders as light flashes through the courtyard again. I hear the yells of men beyond the wall, and the blare of battle horns being blown.

“Battering ram,” Zyren says, his jaw rolling.

As we watch, a black cloud flies through the early dawn light, a sea of arrows coming toward us. I flinch, but they hit the invisible barrier of magic arched over the courtyard and they bounce off harmlessly. The angry shouts of the warriors fill the air, along with a fresh roar from the monster.

Owyn and Merla come up behind us. For several minutes, we watch as the army attempts to break through the walls, but every time, the spell holds strong.

“It won’t fail,” Owyn finally says. “Let’s get some rest.”

We follow them inside as they carry two lumpy sacks filled with hay. When we reach the fireplace room, they place them a ways from the fire, not so far that we can’t feel its warmth, but a bit apart from theirs so we have a tiny bit of privacy. Owyn cringes as he looks from me to the poor bedding. “I wish I had something more suitable.”

“It’s quite alright,” I say with a small smile.

We settle into our makeshift beds, and despite the rough texture of the straw and how it pokes me through my tunic, despite the sounds of warfare on the other side of the castle walls, I am asleep within minutes.

It seems only a moment later that I awaken to the sound of a rooster outside. Slowly, I blink my eyes open. It seems surreal, to have spent the night in my family’s castle, a monster prowlingaround the perimeter outside, an army battering the gate. Life has become so very strange.

My eyes dart over to Zyren, and I wonder if he slept at all. But he is stoic as usual, I can’t read anything in his expression. Merla soon brings plates of fried eggs and a tea kettle from somewhere in the castle, so I can only assume the kitchen was not buried in one of the many collapses. We eat with little chatter between us, and when we’re done, Owyn locks gazes with me. “Are you ready?”

I nod. My nerves feel ablaze, and a fine tremor moves through my limbs, but I am more than ready.

He leads us out of the large room, along the great hall, and then down a narrow passage toward the eastern side of the keep, closest to the ocean. We enter a small room, which seems to have been a sitting area with several old chairs and a small fireplace. On the far side of the room is a small wooden door which appears to be no more than a broom closet.

But when Owyn opens it, a stretch of darkness greets us. He flicks his fingers, summoning a ball of magic in the palm of his hand, pale purple like the flames from the hearth. The light illuminates a set of stone steps that lead down into the darkness. My heart thrums in my chest. That’s not at all what I was expecting.

He descends the steps first, Merla on his heels, me after, and Zyren taking up the rear. The descent is short, no more than twenty steps. It seems we’re a floor below the main level of the castle. When the stairs end, the tunnel opens into a small room carved into natural rock. On the far side of the room is a set of double doors. They’re made of a smooth, pale stone, carved in ornate designs. Instead of handles, there are two half-moon shaped grooves set into the stone, facing each other so that when the door is closed, they form a complete circle. Large amethysts nearly the size of my fist are set within each half. Looking at thedoor, I feel a shiver of magic, and ofbelonging, and a small gasp of anticipation escapes my lips.

Owyn makes a small bow and gestures me forward. “Your blood is the key.”

I step forward between him and Merla, and I approach the door with slow steps. It almost seems I can hear a whisper, a summons, from the other side. Suppressing a shiver, I stop before the door and stare up at it. Then, with reverence, I place my hand on the two half-moons. As my fingers touch the smooth, cool stone, I realize with a pulse of surprise that the stone isn’t stone at all. It’sbone. I don’t know how I know this exactly. Perhaps it’s something in the texture, or the temperature, or the lightness of the thing. But I know, with certainty, that the door is a symbol of my court.

The Court of Bone.

And then, with a slight shiver and a sigh to match my own from moments ago, the doors begin to revolve inward. At first, I see only darkness. Then, candles set along the walls begin to light up, one on each side of the room in equidistant pairs, flaring to life one pair at a time until they illuminate the entire room. The ceiling soars overhead, and in the dim light I catch the rich hues of a mural painted across it.

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