Page 65 of Burning Crowns

‘It will be my pleasure to instruct you,’ said Elladora, tugging until he gave way to her.

Rose blinked in surprise as Shen trailed after the triumphant princess. Turning around, he caught Rose’s eye. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mouthed. ‘Stay here.’

Rose glared at the back of his head. She had no intention of waiting around for him.She knew where she could find a weapon. She would simply go and borrow one and return it when she was done. And she didn’t need Shen Lo’s permission for that.

Wren

CHAPTER 21

As Wren entered the mouth of the Mishnick Mountains, she felt as though she was stepping into the heart of Eana itself. She tipped her head back, marvelling at the thundering waterfall that gushed down from above. Around her, the walls were hung with the most beautiful tapestries she had ever seen – sweeping landscapes of the surrounding valleys, scattered with imagined green-tailed hawks and golden eagles.

There were everlights everywhere. Flames flickered from hundreds of alcoves that climbed up and out of view. Some even burned behind the waterfall, turning the water to a soft, shimmering silver. The cool air smelled like magic. Wren could feel it tingling all around her, like fireflies flitting just out of reach.

She closed her eyes, and beneath the rush of water, heard the faint echo of music. ‘Someone is singing.’

The young healer, who had introduced herself as Maeva, smiled. ‘Not someone. The mountains are singing.’

‘Do they always do that?’ said Alarik, uneasily.

‘When they’re happy,’ said Maeva. ‘So long as there is harmony here, there is music.’

‘Just like the desert,’ said Wren, seized by a renewed rush of love for her ancient country.

‘Where does the water come from?’ asked Tor, running his hand through the silver mist.

Maeva’s smile broadened. Wren couldn’t help but notice how her gaze lingered on Tor. She ignored the pinch of jealousy in her gut. ‘The magic here works in mysterious ways,’ said Maeva. ‘The water that flows from these mountains is the clearest in the land. It has many healing properties.’

‘Remarkable,’ murmured Tor, who was still studying the mist and not the beautiful healer staring moon-eyed at him.

At the other end of the cavern, narrow passages branched off in several different directions, tunnelling deeper into the mountain. Maeva led them towards the one in the middle, where a young man in matching robes was waiting for them.

He looked a lot like Maeva, with tousled golden hair, round cheeks and sky-blue eyes. A brother, or cousin perhaps. He bowed to Wren but did not speak. She thought, perhaps, he was too shy.

‘Arlo will take you to see the Healer on High,’ said Maeva. ‘But first, we must ask you to lay down your weapons.’

Tor stiffened.

‘No,’ said Alarik.

Maeva cleared her throat, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

‘You see, we are Gevran,’ Alarik went on. ‘And an unarmed Gevran is usually a dead one.’

Maeva looked to Arlo. The young man pressed his lips together and shook his head. He would not let them pass.

‘Is it really necessary?’ said Wren. ‘After what we just encountered in the valley, we’d feel much safer with them in our possession. I can assure you they won’t hurt anyone.’

Maeva was unmoved. ‘It is the rule of the mountains, Your Majesty. The Healer on High asks that you lay down your worldly weapons upon entry here. It has been this way since the dawn of Eana.’ She gestured towards the centre of the waterfall. ‘Look, there. Do you see it?’

Wren squinted. ‘See what?’

‘This is a poor attempt at distraction,’ said Alarik.

‘There’s a sword,’ said Tor, spotting it at once. ‘It’s embedded in the rock behind the waterfall.’

Wren’s eyes widened. Tor was right. There, behind reams of water, she could just make out the golden hilt of a sword. ‘Where did that come from?’

Maeva turned on Wren, her brows raised. ‘Don’t you know the story, Your Majesty?’

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