Page 41 of Where Shadows Bloom

“Breathe,” Lope reminded me.

I took a gasp of air and collapsed against her again with a bewildered, delirious laugh. “It’s just incredible, Lope. I must tell you everything.” With a glance back at the bright colors, the dancing courtiers, the king on his throne, engaged in a conversation with more strangers... it was so much, it made my mind grow muddled.

“Let’s hide in the hallway,” I said.

She led the way, keeping me tucked close behind her so that I was hidden just a little bit. We slipped through the crowd undetected. The guard at the door took one half-hearted glance at Lope before continuing his conversation with a young blond woman.

Hand in hand, we darted through the darkened corridors. Night had fallen so quickly. The candles on the wall were already lit, offering only small haloes of golden light here and there. Through the window at the end of the corridor, the half moon was waning.

We found a small window seat.

The seat was small, such that we were pressed knee-to-knee. I was uncertain of where I could settle my arms in such a way that wouldn’t end up touching her.How silly, I thought.I embrace her so easily, but sitting beside her on a bench, I feel like a nervous lover.

I looked up at her, hoping for some sign that perhaps she felt as timid and affectionate as I did. But her face was so cold, except for the glimmer of fear in her eyes, near black in the darkness.

“The king said your mother was by the sea?” she prompted.

If my head was in the clouds, she was permanently wearing a pair of heavy iron boots, rooting her firmly to the ground. Often, I loved this about her. Yet sometimes I wished she’d join me in my dreaming, in my pleasant thoughts, for just a little while.

“Well, yes,” I murmured. “His Majesty says his royal physician is with her. She is ill and is recovering at the king’s seaside estate.”

“El Palacio de Las Lantanas, then.”

I startled. “How do you know?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I study maps quite a lot.”

“Why?”

Lope folded her arms tight, turning away from my eyes. “For a few years I’ve been researching the path the Shadows have taken. If they have some sort of origin point. Or destination.”

Another piece of herself she’d kept from me, just like the love poetry. She’d been doing research about these monsters foryears.How many bits and pieces of her life did she keep tucked away,lockedaway from me like little jewels? Was it that she only shared the small, everyday things with me?

“What have you concluded?” I murmured.

“It’s only a theory for now.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, her brow bunched in thought. “I think of how storms are calm at their centers. And this palace, theoneplace they say is free of monsters. When I trace the path of the Shadows, it seems to me... it seems to me that they begin their journeys here. From this part of the kingdom, if not from the palace itself. The way that nobody speaks of the Shadows... I cannot tell if everyone is in denial or if they are keeping a secret.”

Her familiar voice, gentle and quiet, helped remind me of the days before we reached safety. Of the darkness we’d seen. This palace was beautiful, yes. Maybe even gods-blessed. But that didn’t explain the monsters lurking just beyond the gates, and my heart sank.

How I wished this fairy tale were simpler. That we could trust in this palace. That monsters did not gather close by. That Mother had been in this building after all, waiting for me.

“There’s something else,” she said.

I leaned closer, my heart pounding against my throat.

“Did you look at the king’s feet?”

At once, I withdrew with an incredulous look. “Why would I—?”

“I saw it when he entered and when he returned with you. By candlelight, everyone in that room, we each had just one silhouette. But the king... he had six.”

She seemed to be waiting for my reaction, but I had yet to understand. This was yet another day when I wished I’d been given a mind as sharp as hers.

“He casts six shadows on the ground?” I asked slowly.

“Yes!” she said. “Don’t you find that odd? And they weren’t just plain silhouettes.” She rose, waving her hand in front of one of the sconces. A shadow of her hand passed back and forth against the wall. “They weremoving, sliding just barely as he stood there, ebbing and flowing like tides, like living things!”

I felt torn, then. Her word was gold; it always had been. She never even exaggerated. But this sounded so... fantastical.

---