Page 13 of Steeling Light
All of that is unusual, but the Guardians of the Lesser Houses are usually a little odd. It’s the Keep that has me struggling to maintain my composure. Rather than normal hallways with straight walls and flat ceilings that were created by dragons or the House of Earth, this place looks more like tunnels built into a mountain. Passages barely large enough for a person to crawl through open at seemingly random places on the walls, and silkies pass through them, completely unfazed by the pressing weight of the rock surrounding them.
I’d planned to approach a member of the House of Webs, but I can’t seem to find any High Fae. I feel out of my element here. The obvious answer is to talk to a silky, but they’re just so unusual.
I take a deep breath and walk up to the nearest group of them. “Excuse me, I’m looking for someone named Maerlix. Would you happen to know where I might find him?”
The silky that turns to address me is wearing a deep blue robe. The hood hangs over her head just like all the rest of them, but she pulls the hood down when she looks at me. My jaw tightens as I stare at the face that reminds me far too much of a spider. Instead of skin, the silky’s body is covered in an azure-blue chitin. Swirling black designs that are reminiscent of waves blend with the blue.
She doesn’t have any hair other than the extra bushy eyebrows that move as if there were a hidden wind gently blowing them. More than anything else, the silky’s eyes hold my gaze. They’re golden and opaque without a pupil. Rather than set into its face like most Immortals and humans, the slightly too large eyes extrude outward just like the spiders they’re obviously related to.
“Maerlix,” the Guardian chitters quietly. “Of course. He is where he should be. The Master Listener is never far from the strand room.” The creature’s voice is strangely soothing and soft. I’d heard that silkies could calm even the most aggressive Immortal, but I’ve spent no time within the Keep of Webs. Now I understand. I’d been nervous and afraid, especially after seeing the silky’s face. Now… Now I can’t help but smile.
“Would you mind showing me the way?” I ask. “I’ve never been here, and I don’t know where the strand room is or what Maerlix looks like. He should have information about a friend of mine.”
She frowns and cocks her head ever so slightly. “I will bring you to the strand room, but I do not think you will find the information you seek. As I said, Maerlix is the Master Listener, and he will continue to walk the strands of dreams for a month before he finally awakens.”
I blink. “Wait. I can’t talk to Maerlix fora month?”
“This is correct. He is listening to the dreams of those who came before, learning what he can from the ancient ones so that we may help the House of Webs to be ready. The world is changing, Ainslee Emlyn of the House of Light, daughter of Adelynne Emlyn. Dreams are the only way we can learn what is to come.”
I completely ignore the fact that a nameless silky knows exactly who I am even though I’m wearing another person’s face and body. The information doesn’t escape me, but it doesn’t matter nearly as much as what she said.
A month. What am I supposed to do until then? Maeve expects me to find Vesta, not sit around doing nothing. I certainly can’t go back with no information.
I chew my lip for a moment as I think. “There’s no way to wake Maerlix up earlier than that? He’s alive, so shouldn’t he have to eat or drink before then?”
The silky smiles, her exoskeleton shifting with a soft squeak, and she says, “When we are deep in dreams, our bodies are not exactly alive. Our minds are elsewhere, and our bodies simply exist. No breath. No movement. The body sleeps while the mind travels, and if his body were to be forced awake, it would wake without his mind, which would… not give you any more answers than he can give you now.”
I snarl, and the silky says nothing as my emotions flow unchecked. Her eyes seem to follow something behind me or maybebeyondme. “You hunt for the handmaid,” she says rather than address my obvious frustration. “Yes, you must wait for Maerlix to awaken for that information. He is the only silky capable of holding a tie with a sylph. While I may follow most strands well enough, I cannot follow hers. Sylphs are…” She pauses, searching for a word. “Unstable. Their strands do not cling to the web as well as others. It is like trying to catch the wind in a web. Impossible. But Maerlix is the Master Listener, and I do not believe that there is such a word as impossible to him.”
She reaches out, and with chitin-covered fingertips, clasps my hands. Warmth flows from her to me and fills me with an unmistakable emotion: peace. “Patience, Ainslee Emlyn. Your task of finding the handmaid is not your only purpose in Selithar. You are not like the sylph, and your strands are bound to the web, your fate entwined with so many others. It is not productive to fight the web. We all must eat when it is time to eat and rest when it is time to rest.”
I blink slowly, and instead of arguing as I normally would, I nod slowly. “Patience,” I whisper in agreement.
An image of Rhion in one of his fancy brocade tunics flashes through my mind, hair mussed with a sheepish grin. My heart speeds up, and a matching grin spreads across my face. He holds my hand so delicately and pulls it to his lips. Soft lips press against my fingertips like a brushing caress, and I feel my soul soaring from a touch so light it could have been the wind.
The vision becomes something very different: my mother on the crystal throne, her never-fading smile etched in place while she wears a glowing golden gown. Blood soaks the bottom half of the dress, dripping onto the floor. I’m kneeling at her feet, my hands soaking in the crimson, and Rhion is beside me. The grin quickly fades as I take in the visage for half a second. Then… then it becomes a face that only appears in my nightmares, and I turn away from the silky.
My father. But it’s not him. It’s a smoky image of a man. I can’t see his face, but I can hear his voice. I’m cowering in that hallway again as he stands over me. Blood runs down the back of my dress from where I hit my head, from where he threw me against a table. My fingers brush against the shards of a shattered vase as I stare up at the smoky silhouette of the man I hate most in the world.
You’re nothing. You’re worthless. A girl whose only value is to be a pretty whore, like her mother. A boy whose only value is to entertain his betters; just another type of whore. Forget whose bloodline spawned you. It’s better to be childless than to spawn a bloodline that will only bring shame and disappointment.
I don’t cower any longer, though. Instead, I climb to my feet, but before I can say anything, everything disappears, and the silky is in front of me again.
“You have many stops along the web before you will speak with Maerlix, Ainslee Emlyn. All of us have our own path along the web, but each leads to the center of the spiral, to our true destiny. Trust the web, and the web will guide you. Smile, Ainslee. The strands inside you are bright ones. They will light the way for so many others, but first you must find your spark. First, you must find what it is to be alive without another to light your way.”
Then the silky nods to me and steps back. Somehow, I know that this is the end of the conversation, but before she can pull away, I ask, “What is your name?”
The silky’s smile deepens, and her eyebrows seem to turn toward me, no longer shifting in that invisible wind. “I am called Vellith. Thank you for coming here today, Daughter of Brightness and Strength. Your strands will always be welcome in the Keep of Webs.”
Then Vellith turns, pulls her hood over her head, and goes back to the group she was whispering to when I’d interrupted them.
I don’t know why, but I feel a yearning that I hadn’t before. I feel called to follow the cryptic instructions I was given, but behind it is a lingering fear that I worry won’t fade as the warmth of Vellith’s touch has already begun to.Can I be more than worthless? Can I be someone who matters?I turn and walk back the way I’d come, knowing the conversation I was supposed to have within the House of Webs is done.
I swallow hard as the images flash through my mind again. I cannot run from any of them. The need to follow the path that Vellith showed me lingers just beyond my thoughts.
I may not understand them, but they sing to me in a way that no command from Cole ever has. And the first one has to do with Rhion.
I guess I can’t ignore the pull I’ve felt toward him.
