Page 38 of Court of Treachery

“What is that?” he growled. His voice carried through the empty hall.

“König, I believe it to be inside Afnirheim at the present moment,” Aedon replied.

“You have seen this?” Korrin asked Halvar.

“Yes, König. I believe it to be true. Seeing the carnage before the shattered gates and upon the road… Afnirheim has fallen.”

“Gods help us.” Korrin cast his eyes skyward, then to the floor, before meeting their gazes once more. He rose slowly from the throne and approached them. “This must not become public… for now.” His stern gaze held Halvar’s.

“My men swore their secrecy, König. It will not be so much as whispered.”

“Make it so.” Korrin turned upon Aedon, Harper, and their companions. “Is she a seer?”

“Not that we have ever known, König,” Aedon answered. “But the gift can strike any of magical blood, without true seer gifts.”

Korrin’s face fell and he paced back and forward, his movements sharp. It was bad enough to admit a city might have fallen, all those within dead, let alone that a power as dark as Saradon’s had arisen. He deliberated, standing in silence for a moment, gazing at the ceiling. “I wish to have the vision verified. She will be sent before the Mother.”

Harper’s eyes widened. She glanced between Korrin and Aedon, but Aedon’s face was blank.The Mother? Who is that?

“I can assure you the vision is true, König,” Aedon said, “but if that is your will, so it be done.” He turned to Harper. “Will you stand before the Mother? She is the Goddess embodied. She will see the truth of your vision.”

That did not sound quite so intimidating, though anxiety still roiled in Harper’s belly. “What do I have to do?” she asked in a quiet voice, hoping to avoid the king’s ire—though he did not seem like King Toroth of Pelenor, quick to cruel anger, and that gave her hope.

“Nothing taxing, I promise,” Aedon reassured her. “She will simply look at your vision and know if it presents the truth or not.”

Harper swallowed. “All right.” She straightened and bowed to the könig, unsure what else to do.

He seemed satisfied as he nodded. “Take her to the Mother at once,” he ordered Jarl Halvar.

“Follow me.” Halvar walked toward the throne, not the doors. After a moment, Harper followed, Aedon, Brand, and Erika trailing behind her. The jarl turned at the sound of their footsteps. “Not all of you, I am afraid. Only Harper will stand before the Mother. The rest of you may be at leisure. I will send for you when the Mother is finished with your friend.”

Coldness spread through Harper. She didn’t want to go alone. But Korrin nodded, so she knew that she had no choice. Still, she sent an imploring glance toward her companions. They only bowed to the könig, regarded her with inscrutable faces, and left through the great doors they had entered by.

The jarl turned once more to the back of the hall. “Come.”

Behind the throne, a small door, seamless in the stone, silently opened at his touch to reveal a stairway descending into the mountain.

Down into the bowels of Keldheim they descended. The stairs went farther and farther, turning left every thirteen steps. No doorways provided an exit, the walls sheer and straight with nary a crack or fault. The air grew colder, the faelights more sparse, casting the stairs into shadows. The walls seemed to grow paler with every flight of stairs, until by the time Harper and the jarl reached the very last steps, the walls were white and ran with water.

The last step descended into a void. Jarl Halvar picked up a glass lantern containing a faelight that pulsed warm, white light, and led her into the dark. Beneath her feet, stones crunched.

She realised they were now in a cave. The white walls rippled, undulating and slick with water. It was so cold not even her cloak could keep her warm, but she tugged it tighter all the same, trying to ward off the insidious chill.

It felt like they trudged for hours, the long minutes lost in the dark. The caves trailed off in all directions, the true extent of them hidden behind white, dripstones hanging from the heights and snapping up from the ground, which Harper had never seenbefore. This place had teeth. It felt like being in a giant dragon’s mouth. She suppressed the uncomfortable thought.

Somewhere, running water bubbled over stone, and the rock glowed with its own pale, ghostly light. Was it her imagination? Harper blinked, but it was impossible to tell.The faelight bobbed ahead of her in the jarl’s hand. He stopped walking unexpectedly, just as she decided that it definitely grew lighter ahead.

“I can go no farther. The Mother will only see you.”

Harper gawked at him for a moment. “I cannot speak Dwarvish. And?—”

“It matters not. I may not take another step uninvited. You must continue alone. Go. I will wait here until she sends you back.”

Harper swallowed and placed one foot in front of the other, forcing herself to continue. The jarl kept the faelight since she could now see, the way ahead of her gleaming in the pale light like a path in the moonlight. Who was the Mother? What did she want from Harper? Harper’s nerves only brought more questions, but no answers.

The light brightened. Squinting, she realised, impossibly, daylight lay ahead. Had they travelled under the entire mountain? It could not be, yet weak sunlight filtered into the cave, illuminating the space. In the final antechamber, before the stream tumbled from the mountainside in a rush of falling water, Harper saw a figure framed against the light, so still, it could almost have been stone itself.

31

---