Page 40 of A Conduit of Light
“Fear?”Clairanniapiped in, biting her nails as she usually did when she was thinking hard. “Thepoem says, ‘Withoutfear,Herheart is fleeting.’Whatif some kind of fear is powering theBlight?”
Figuerahshook her head. “That’sa real stretch,Clairannia.We’dhave to assume theBlightressmade theBlightand even though they share a name, she was supposed to have lived almost a thousand years ago if she lived at all.Whywould theBlightjust now be growing in mass?There’sno evidence anything like that exists on the isle anywhere else.”
“Ihad the same question,Figuerah, but it might be worth investigating further.Doyou know any more stories or poems that were handed down without being written?”
Figuerahthought for a moment, moving a pebble around on the earthen floor. “Ican’t think of anything right now.Again, theBlightressin our legends is similar to yours, but her anger is not as focused on.She’smore blamed for anything that goes wrong in the mountains.”
“Andin theSpire, our tales focus on not only her anger, but her abandonment of people.Weare taught as children that to be alone is to be as theBlightress, never experiencing the joy of love.”
Ashfurrowed her brows even further.Shehadn’t realized that stories of theBlightresswere so different in the varying regions of the isle.
“MaybeIshould go talk toBaronHeimlenabout this.”Ashclosed her eyes and rubbed her face, all of the information she had gained in the last hour swimming in her head. “Thismight be worth his time now, instead of waiting until morning.AndIfeel likeI’mstruggling to keep all of my thoughts together.”Shepeeked her eyes open above her hands. “Youknow, sinceI’msoexhaustedfrom last night.”
Justas she’d planned, her friends burst into laughter.
“Well, ifBaronHeimlenis anywhere, he’s likely in his study.I’venoticed that he’s therea lot.IknowSylvabrings him food and she even brought that tinctureImade for him to bring color back to his face.”
“Yousaid it’s a black door with a green handle?Idon’t remember seeing it on the stairwell.”
“It’sin an alcove.Downa short hallway to the right—you can’t see it just from the stairs.”
AshandFiguerahlooked toClairanniain question.
“What?”Shecrossed her arms. “I’veexplored a lot of theFortressin my free time.Iwant to make sureIadd enough detail of the place in my future memoir so that the readers can really picture it.”
“Well,I’mglad of it,Clairannia.Thankyou.”Ashturned to leave, patting her lumen one last time. “I’llsee you two at dinner and let you know what he says.”
* * *
Itdid not takeher long to find the door, though her rush through the foyer raised a questioning look fromPompeii.Shegave him a short wave and he shrugged in her direction and went about his business.
Sheremembered the alcove about halfway up the staircase but hadn’t seen the door.Itwas sunk a few feet into the black stone walls—almost like it was meant to be hidden.
Thedarkness of it made details difficult to observe, but the green glass knob was a brilliant contrast and caught her eye immediately.
Sheknocked on the door, hoping her intrusion was not going to be met with more reprimand.
Therewas a slight pause beforeBaronHeimlen’svoice, gruff and low called out, “Yes?Whois it?”
“It’sAsh’Arah,Baron.I-Iread something inViridisthatIthought you might be interested in knowing now…instead of waiting until morning.Maybeit would help in your research?”Hervoice was higher than usual and she began to wonder if disturbing him would only make more work for her.
Therewas silence for several seconds andAshwas about to tell him through the door that she was being silly, of course it could wait until morning, when it opened.
Beforeher stoodRevich, his eyes twinkling in an attempt at a suppressed smile.Hemoved to the side, gesturing for her to come into the room.
Herheart skipped a beat seeing him there, several in fact it seemed, and she told herself to show no sign of surprise at his presence inBaronHeimlen’sstudy.Ofcourse he could be there.Heworked closely with his mentor after all.
Sheglanced around the room, absorbing its detail—mostly to deliver toClairannialater who would likely ask.Adull glow from a lantern atBaronHeimlen’sdesk was the only source of light.Itflickered across his features as she stepped further toward him, her hands clasped tightly.
Theblack desk took up the majority of the space in the middle of the room, though the wall behind him was lined with shelves and what looked like a workspace.Bottlesand flasks were haphazardly strewn across the shelves and large tomes lay open on top of each other along the bench behind theBaron.Itwas an unkempt space, which surprised her, considering thatBaronHeimlennever appeared as an unkempt man.
Hesat, looking pale and tired, a journal open in front of him, his quill poised above the paper.Anotherchair, black as ever, was facing the corner of the desk and she guessed thatRevichhad just come from it.
“Whatis it, my dear?Whatcannot wait until morning?”Hisvoice was lost in its gruffness, sounding haggard and strained.
Ashglanced behind her, her mouth open, about to speak.
“Youmay say what you wish in the presence ofBaronRevich.Heis aware of the situation in its entirety.”
