Page 102 of Wilds of Wonder
I’d studied the layout of the original star court castle over the years. We had them on display in our museum. I’d seen them enough times that I could picture it in my head. Not every hallway or room, but the more important ones: the prison cells underneath the castle, the throne room, the king’s and queen’s chambers.
History usually got buried, so I’d go to the bottom of the castle, see if I could do some unearthing. Honestly, I had no idea what I expected to find, but my instincts told me something was lurking down there. Maybe a secret. Maybe an artifact. Maybe a skeleton. Perhaps a key. Something that would give me answers about El and her motives.
I crept down the stairs, passing a level that led to the throne room. I kept going, the stairs growing steeper, the path growing darker. I tugged at the thread of magic inside of me. Fire burst to life in my palm. I held out my hand and the fireball floated before me, a guiding light as I descended into the belly of the castle.
I shook my head, questions rattling my mind. We’d gotten many of them answered, but so much still didn’t make sense. Why had Annalee dreamt of this place? Where had the lightning bolt gone? Who was El? She’d given very few details about herself over our time together.
I didn’t think I’d get all the answers today. But I had a feeling I could at least get some.
The fireball floated down and illuminated a dirt ground. An area spread out before me that I assumed was once the dungeons. Aron hadn’t mentioned keeping prisoners here, so it should be empty, but I’d be cautious all the same.
A body slammed into mine as soon as I stepped onto the flat ground, and we both went tumbling down. I hit the dirt with a resounding crash, pain splitting through my elbows and knees.
I groaned, still not sure what in the fuck had just happened, until I slowly rolled over to see Emory staring down at me with her wide blue eyes.
She gave a guilty shrug. “Well, I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?”
I sighed as she scrambled off of me. “I thought we weren’t playing any more of our games.”
She crossed her arms, and I came to a stand, wincing at the shocks of pain in my bones. Then I took in the sight before me: Emory in a dress. It cinched at the waist, highlighting her curves, the bodice was cut low, the skirt swishing just around her ankles. Fucking fuck. She was always gorgeous, but now, she was... something that I couldn’t even describe. Words wouldn’t do her justice.
“Your sister insisted I wear it,” she said, her cheeks flushing.
Ah. Of course she did. Annalee had plans of her own for Emory and me, no matter what either of us wanted. My sister didn’t understand my little rabbit, how timid and scared she could be when it came to relationships. If Annalee pushed Emory too hard, she might run for good.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
I jolted, my gaze shooting up from her waist to her eyes. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I just have a feeling that El isn’t telling us everything. That she has information we don’t. And I want to know what it is.”
Emory bit her lip, eyes shifting back and forth as she took in the space. Iron cells lined the walls next to us while tunnels burrowed deeper into the ground, cloaked by darkness. Emory marched to the wall, where a torch was mounted, covered in dust and cobwebs. She grabbed it, then held it right over my fire magic.
“Do you mind?” she asked as she was already lighting it.
I spread out a hand. “Go ahead.”
She held the torch to the flame, and it lit up, bright and crackling, providing extra light that Emory shone in all directions. “Well this place isn’t creepy at all,” she said as the light illuminated a pile of skulls stacked in one corner.
“Maybe that’s from Spirit Shadow?” I suggested. “Or the Shadow War.”
“Or something else,” Emory murmured as she brushed past me. She knelt to the ground, running a finger through the dirt, then lifting it.
Purple dust covered her finger, similar to the black dust coating everything in this land.
“What do you think this is?” She looked up at me from where she crouched. “Do you think it’s connected to some kind of ancient magic that no longer exists?”
“It must be something from the Old World,” I said. “Every time we’ve encountered this dust, it’s been through objects, artifacts, historical sites.”
She pinched the purple dust between her finger and thumb, studying it, brows furrowed, mouth pursed. So fucking adorable. I loved watching her think. I loved seeing the way her mind worked.
She dusted her hands, standing. “But why would it be in the dungeons? Maybe you’re right. Maybe there is something here that’s important.”
She swung her torchlight, then sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”
I wrinkled my nose. All I could smell was the scent of fresh snowfall and pale blossoms. It smelled like Emory. It smelled like home. My heart clenched.
“Hello?” she asked, brows raised.
Right. I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t think so.”
