Page 36 of Of Blood & Stone

“And this is the King of Vutror, is it?” the wall guard asked, his dark brown skin matching his eyes.

“His brother,” Kharis responded. “The king was unfit for travel.”

“Brother?” The guard’s brows raised. “The one who was said to be dead?”

Elnok replied, “Not as dead as people presumed.”

“Clearly so,” the guard said with a crooked smile. “The High One will be… surprised.”

“Indeed,” Kharis replied, “I’ll explain it all to him, but for now, the prince needs rest.”

“Ah, that will have to wait, I’m afraid; the kingdom-wide banquet is about to begin. I was instructed to ensure you both attend if you arrived on time.”

Kharis straightened. “But that’s not for another two harvest cycles.”

“You’ve missed an important number of days. More Kreenas failed this year than ever before, and one of them was pois—” The guard stopped, his eyes flitting to Elnok. “Apologies, Prince, but I’ll need to fill in Kharis privately as we walk.”

Elnok smiled widely. “Of course.”

But I can’t help it if your whispers aren’t quiet enough.

He followed Kharis’ lead as the guard opened the gate and ushered them through. Nothing could have prepared him for how many shades of green there were. The leaves seemed to glow against the sunshine, the trees and bushes enclosing them on a winding path.

He followed at a distance, staring in awe while listening intently to their conversation. Retrieving his signet ring from his pocket, he spun it mindlessly on his pinky finger, listening carefully as he learned an exceptionally powerful Kreena—one of those magical women—had been poisoned with orodyte serum during an important ceremony two days ago.

Kharis tensed. Elnok stopped spinning his ring.

“You know what that means, don’t you?” the guard whispered, so quietly that Elnok had to strain his ears.

Kharis said nothing, his grip tightening on his hilt.

“It means the famine’s coming,” the guard said, “Estea isn’t safe anymore.”

Chapter 9

Doubt

Guards stood on either side of the gold balcony doors as Sylzenya entered the High One’s council chambers. Plants and vines crawled across the stain-glassed ceiling, draped along the walls, and spilled onto the edges of the floor. Small willows lined the room, bowing towards the group of marble statues depicting their goddess.

Sylzenya rolled her shoulders back, placing both hands over her heart as she bowed. As is custom, the guards issued the same gesture back, the squeaking of their green and brown leather armor echoing in the large room.

“The High One will be here shortly,” one of them announced.

Sylzenya smiled softly as the guards returned to their rigid postures, eyes pointed towards the entry doors.

The kingdom-wide banquet had already begun. Citizens crowded the gardens below, but Sylzenya had requested a private meeting with the High One. She took a shaky breath as she approached one of the willows, letting the drooping branches hide her in its green fold. Tears stung her eyes. She swallowed them. The emptiness in her chest grew with each day, the reminder of her lost power, an ache slicing just as deep as the one on her back.

If you are to restore your power and protect your people, then Aretta’s Willow is the only way.

Scratching a nail down the willow’s fibrous bark, she let a sharp splinter pierce her thumb. If the compass was inside one of these trees, then she needed to carve into each trunk until she found it. The task seemed impossible, but there had to be a way; if she could find the compass to Aretta’s Willow, then they’d always have enough power to make sure the famine never reached Estea.

This was why she needed to share her vision of the compass to the High One tonight.

Stone cracked against stone as the doors opened. Sylzenya quickly emerged from the willow. The High One strode in, his long white robes matching his hair. A twisted gold coronet lined his forehead, the metallic glint brightening his eyes as he held Sylzenya’s stare. He opened his arms, a wide smile on his face, causing her shoulders to relax.

“A splendid night when the entire kingdom shows,” the High One said as he extended his arm for her, “Now tell me, what honor am I owed to be called upon by our kingdom’s most renowned Kreena?”

Sylzenya’s eyes widened. “Your Grace, with all due respect, I’m still—” She paused, her gaze shooting to the guards, realizing she shouldn’t speak of her powerlessness, “Unable to fulfill my duties as a Kreena.”

---