Page 17 of Wilds of Wonder
I dug into my coat pocket and pulled out the key, sticking it into the lock and opening the door. The guards stopped behind me with their three prisoners.
“You can wait outside,” I said to them. “While I ask a few questions of our guests.”
My gaze landed on Emory. Time to find out if she was the white rabbit. Because if she was, I was about to do something very, very stupid.
Chapter Ten
EMORY, SIX YEARS AGO
Igrunted as I lifted another heavy rock from the pile sitting outside the cave. Of all my dumb ideas, this one was truly the dumbest. I’d read about an avalanche of rocks that had happened nearly a thousand years ago, killing multiple sky elementals from the Old World, and I just couldn’t help myself. Actual evidence of the Old World Catastrophe—otherwise known as the end of the Old World. If I found bones, let alone something amazing like a journal or clothing or jewelry, it would be a huge discovery. I lifted my lantern higher, trying to angle it just right so that I could see the progress I’d made.
Very little, as it would turn out. There was no way I’d be able to get through these rocks in one night. It would take multiple visits, likely over a series of months. I lifted another heavy rock and threw it.
The wind whistled around me, chilly and refreshing. I lifted my face. Thankfully my husband was away in Apolis for a few weeks, giving me more freedom to pursue my new hobby.
I hadn’t meant to stay here so late into the night. But I’d gotten carried away, excited by this new prospect that lay out before me. A few more rocks. I’d heave a few more from their place and then headhome before the servants grew too suspicious. Though they’d never suspect this. They’d likely think I was having an affair, not that uncommon. I lifted another rock and down it went, tumbling away and thudding into the soft green grass of the highlands surrounding me. It wasn’t like I’d ever actually have an affair. I’d only been married half a year and already hated it, hated my husband, but I wouldn’t stray from our marriage. I’d made a commitment, and I would stay true to it.
It was the least I could do to honor my mother, to honor her dream for me. The dream that she’d never see now.
My hands, sore with blisters, wrapped around another heavy stone when a sliver of wood peeked through. I gasped and dug through the rocks, pushing them aside. A box lay there in the rubble. I gripped the smooth wood, pulling it out and examining its chestnut top.
A voice cut through the air. “Hello, little rabbit.”
I stilled, clutching the box tighter as that low timbre sent a shiver down my spine. It was a clever nickname given my white fur cloak, but I wasn’t in the mood for games.
“Are you a stalker or something?” I asked without turning around. “Not very original, I have to say.”
He tsked, and still, I didn’t turn.
The sun had sunk below the horizon, a band of purple streaking across the dark sky, the faint outline of stars emerging overhead.
I slowly turned, and a man stood at the bottom of the pile of rocks. He wore a black cloak, hood covering his head and hanging far enough over to keep his face, any identifiable features, hidden. Same as me with my fur cloak.
“What do you want?” I asked, still sitting atop the tall pile of rocks, clutching the box tight. “To turn me in? Do you work for the frost queen or something?”
She’d caught wind of my extracurricular activities, and for whatever reason, had decided to make it her personal mission to catch me. Never mind there were actual murderers out there, threats looming in other courts, pedophiles, but sure, focus on me and my harmless hobby.
“Maybe I’m a fan,” the man said, which took me aback.
I’d been doing this for exactly six months, started the day after mymother died. But no one had seen me, noticed me. Which was the way I preferred it.
“A fan of what, exactly?” I asked.
He shrugged, and even though a cloak covered him, I could tell his shoulders were broad. “You’re a treasure hunter. You collect hard-to-find objects.”
“Have you been watching me?” The thought gave me chills. If he’d seen me, I had to wonder who else might have.
“Maybe just a little,” he said, amusement in his voice.
I slid down the pile of rocks with as much grace as I could. “Well, you can stop. I have no interest in whatever it is you want. If you’re going to turn me in, then do it now. Get it over with.”
I’d fight him, of course, but it wouldn’t be hard for him to slip the hood from my head, find out my identity. Ruin my life. Not that it was much of a life to ruin.
“I told you, I’m a fan.”
I rolled my eyes. “What do you want? My autograph? I’m not interested in having a fan. I’m interested in being left alone.”
He stepped forward. “Are you sure about that?”
