Page 13 of Court of Bone and Amethyst

But it does not fall. Instead, a bright pulse of magic shoots out along the perimeter walls of the castle, a pale blue light just a few shades darker than ice. It arcs over our heads as well, a bright dome of light. The air within the courtyard feels charged, static, tight.

Another crash, but the gate still holds.

“Who placed this spell?” Zyren asks, not moving his gaze from the gate ahead, though the question is clearly directed at the two strangers.

“I did,” the man says.

“Will it hold?”

“Yes.”

A third resounding boom, followed by a howl of rage that sends shivers of dread down my spine.

“Who are you?” I ask, my gaze settling on the man standing a few feet to my right.

Piercing blue eyes pivot to mine. “My name is Owyn. I was your brother’s best friend. I have waited here for more than two decades, because I knew one day you would return.”

“My brother?” It comes out a gasp. I hadn’t even known I had a brother. I only knew that my entire family perished the night Avonia betrayed them, except my mother, who survived just long enough to spirit me away to Aureon.

Owyn nods, and Zyren looks over at him, eyes narrowed, appraising. “The ocean has always been a friend to House Otreyas,” he says.

“On the darkest night of the year, when the wind blows from the north, the ocean is a friend to no one,” Owyn responds. Then he smiles faintly. “You are wise not to trust me, guardian. These days, there are few who can be trusted.”

I watch the exchange, my gaze darting back and forth between them. Zyren’s posture relaxes somewhat; whatever coded phrases had been exchanged, clearly Owyn answered correctly.

Another howl rises from outside the castle gates, and the sound of claws scraping against rock. I flinch and cover my ears.

“Let’s go within the keep,” Owyn says. “The nightmare will not be able to pass the gate, but that means we also cannot leave while it is out there. And there is much to discuss.”

“An army will be here soon as well,” Zyren says. “But if that spell can keep out the nightmare, I’m not worried about a few hundred men. Or even a few thousand.”

My gaze meet Zyren’s for a moment, asking silently if we can trust this man, and he nods slightly. Owyn, along with the woman, who still hasn’t uttered a word, lead us toward the keep at the center of the huge courtyard. But we pass by it, traveling first to the far side of the courtyard where the stable is located. One side of the structure is collapsed, but we settle them into stalls on the opposite end before heading back to the keep.

The keep is collapsed in several places as well, and blackened from the fire many years ago. As my footsteps bring me closer, it seems the air grows colder and quieter, as if the specters of my family still linger in this place. Owyn leads us to a small door around the side of the structure, and I pause on the threshold, ambivalence and curiosity warring within me. When another resounding roar from the monster shakes the night, I shiver and step within the Court of Bone.

Moonlight stabs in through the open windows high above us, the glass long since melted from the fire. In the dim light, I see rows of pews, and I realize we must be in my family’s cathedral. My stomach does a little flip. What deities did they worship here? Did their priest try to manipulate them like the High Priest at the Amethyst Palace? I grew up in a cathedral, but it does not bring me comfort to find myself in one now.

Owyn leads us deeper within the castle, out into a great hall that might have been a throne room. It stretches from one side of the building all the way to the other. Windows let in the moon on one end, but the other is collapsed, just a pile of rubble that rises almost to the ceiling. I see a sweeping spiral staircase as well, the top of which is missing. A large stretch of the roof is gone in that area, letting in a slice of night sky and stars.

“Do not go exploring while you’re here,” Owyn says, catching me looking. “The second floor is too unstable, and parts of the first floor, too.”

I nod and follow him to the far side of the formerly grand hall, into a large antechamber on the left. It has several windows, and a huge fireplace at the far end. There are two straw-filled mattresses on the floor nearby, and a small table with several chairs. Owyn approaches the fireplace and raises one hand toward it. A pulse of magic leaves his fingertips, lighting a pile of stacked wood. Flames that burn a pale violet quickly catch the wood, and soon a roaring fire fills the hearth.

“This is hardly the hospitality a queen deserves,” Owyn says, gesturing to the table, “but it’s what I have to offer. Please, take a seat.”

I nod and sit down, Zyren to my right. “You saved our lives. That’s as warm a welcome as one could hope for.”

“I certainly did not expect Avonia to be able to summon such a creature, and that it would be right on your heels,” Owyn says, jaw set in a grim line. “I didn’t think things could get much darker than the night of your birth party, but it seems I was wrong. After two decades, our enemy is as determined as ever.”

I blink, fighting the sting of tears forming in my eyes. In the dim moonlight, I evaluate this man who claims to have been my brother’s best friend, the man who saved us from certain death. He doesn’t look more than a decade older than me, but like Zyren, he has an aura of age about him that belies his youthful appearance. His hair is brown with a hint of chestnut, his jaw shadowed with a close-shorn beard. A scar runs down his left cheek, curving along his jawline, but it doesn’t appear to be made by a blade. The line is thicker, and there’s an echo of magic there.

“I suppose I should start by finishing introductions,” Owyn says. “My quiet companion is Merla. She’s my apprentice.”

Zyren and I nod and murmur greetings. Merla dips her head. “It is lovely to meet you, Highness.” Her blonde hair and dimples remind me of Lilette, and I feel a pang of sorrow in my chest.

“We, of course, know your names already,” Owyn says.

“Do you belong to the Guild?” Zyren asks.

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