Page 168 of Silverbow
“Glow worms.”
Enya swallowed her response as the cart plunged again and leveled out to emerge in a wide cavern. Her head swiveled. It was like looking up at a glowing hive, lights flickering in the chambers cut into the stone. The sounds of shovels and pickaxes rang in her ears, clanging over the low rumble of dwarves singing to their mountain. She watched as great chunks of stone were loaded into the back of waiting carts like the one she sat in. Leon pulled the levers where the track split and they plunged deeper beneath Drozia.
When Enya could see her breath, Oryn leapt gracefully from the lumbering cart with the saddlebags in hand and offered her an outstretched arm. She ignored it, trying to emulate his step, but her knees wobbled when she hit the hard stone. His face betrayed nothing as he set her back on her feet.
Guards in rich plum uniforms flanked an archway into the stone. They nodded to their prince as he passed. Leon marched through a labyrinth of halls that Enya lost track of long before they arrived at a pair of heavy iron doors flanked by more guards. Two of them took out halves of an iron key that had to be fitted together to permit their entry and theclangof the doors at their backs sent a shiver down Enya’s spine.
They stood in a long, narrow hall bathed in the same warm torchlight as the rest of Drozia, but this one was lined with heavy iron doors. They were unmarked except for small numbers. Leon strode to the door marked 329, fished a great keyring from his pocket, and selected one that to Enya’s eye looked the same as all the others.
“This one is yours,” he said, fitting it to the lock. Torches set in brackets on the walls flared to life as the door swung in, illuminating a horde that made Enya’s breath catch. “We’ll leave you to it.”
She stepped tentatively over the threshold as if some alarm might go up. She felt as if she were intruding. It didn’t feel like it belonged to her, even if Leon said it did. Swallowing, she inched inside. Stones shelves were set into the walls from floor to ceiling, crammed with trunks, chests, and drawers. A long narrow table piled with more treasure ran down the center of the vault.
Tentatively, Enya ran a finger through the dust atop a little set of wood drawers. Touching anything felt wrong, but curiosity finally got the better of her. She tugged one of the drawers open to find the velvet inlay littered with bracelets befitting a throne room. She closed it hurriedly and opened another full of hair combs, still another with rings, and the final with necklaces. Enya picked up a necklace with a ruby the size of a chicken egg and snorted a laugh that sounded maniacal when it echoed back to her in the vault. She whirled, throwing open a chest full of gold.
Maia Trakbatten must have robbed Pallas blind. Another laugh bubbled to her lips. Making a full circuit of the chamber, she came to rest before a shelf near the door where a finely worked tiara set with emeralds sat atop a bust of a woman. Below it, another bust wore a delicately worked gold chain across the brow, an emerald suspended in the middle. Enya ran a finger over it carefully.
“Anala Trakbatten’s battle crown,” Oryn murmured from the door. Enya jumped, bumping into the table. A sack of gold spilled onto the floor stones, the clatter making her flinch. He turned to Leon, his brow raised. “I thought it was lost.”
“You would be surprised what’s lost beneath the mountain, brother,” Leon answered wryly.
“May I?” Oryn asked, gesturing to the threshold. He still carried the saddlebags with the dragon eggs. Enya waved him in, bending to pick up the fallen gold. She had knocked more on the floor than she had ever seen in her life. She slipped a few coins into her purse as Oryn found a place to put them.
The minecart returned them to the palace and Leon began to ascend the wide staircases that led up into one of the many towers. Enya caught glimpses of sky as they climbed, pausing at the windows that looked out into the vast blue. Leon charged up unwinded and she caught Oryn wearing a smirk as she feigned interest in the view while she caught her breath.A bloody smirk.By the time liveried guards were bowing them into the royal apartments, Enya had a hand braced on the stone, her knees shaking.
“Should I send for Alloralla?” Oryn asked quietly enough Leon didn’t hear. Enya shot him a glare that dared him to do it and he pressed his lips together holding in a laugh.
The doors opened into a wide, informal sitting room. Tufted armchairs flanked a roaring hearth and an assortment of toys littered the layered rugs before the sofa. A piano perched in the corner and somewhere deeper in the apartments, children were shouting. Enya wasn’t sure what she expected of royal apartments, but this seemed so ordinary compared to the opulence she had passed in the halls.
She suppressed a shudder as Alsbet beckoned her toward a spiral staircase. “I trust you haven’t forgotten the way, Oryn.”
He chuckled, striding by the dwarf princess with another peck on her cheek, his boots fading as he rounded the bend and disappeared from view. Enya pasted a pained smile on her face and followed the Princess of Dwarves up.
Alsbet stopped at the second door after the first turn of the staircase. “These will be your rooms, dear.”
Enya blinked at the finely appointed private sitting room. Layered rugs and hairy pelts covered the polished mountain floor and tapestries of miners and hunters covered the walls. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth beyond a sofa and a pair of armchairs and a little table sat laden with platters of fruits and nuts. Two doors led off to what she presumed to be the bedroom and bathing chamber, but it was the bookshelf that drew her attention. She traced a finger across a row of leather spines.
“You can have anything you like brought up from the library, dear,” Alsbet said.
Enya whirled. “Library?”
The princess drew herself up proudly. “Second only to Oyamor.” A dwarven woman with rosy cheeks and long gray hair woven into a pile of braids atop her head bustled in with a tea tray. “Ah, here’s Harshilda. She’ll be yours while you’re with us. Lady Enya is a dear friend of Oryn’s, Hilda.”
Enya stared as the woman dropped a practiced curtsy.Hers?“Pleasure to meet you, my lady. Anything you need, you need only ask.”
Alsbet tsked, her gaze sweeping Enya from head to toe. “Oryn really should have written ahead. How am I to find something that fits you on such short notice?”
“Oh, please-”
“I suppose we’ll have to make do for dinner. I’ll leave you to it.” The Princess of Dwarves swept out abruptly, leaving Enya to gape at the serving woman.
Harshilda strode into the bathing chamber and the sound of splashing water drew Enya to the doorway. A soaking tub big enough for three sat under a large window overlooking sweeping vistas of the mountain passes. Harshilda was turning knobs that sent water gushing from taps in the wall. Enya stared as steam curled up from the basin.
The serving woman gave her a knowing smile. “Simdeni is generous with his gifts,” she said. “The mountain provides all.” She showed Enya the workings of the tub, toilet, and sink and opened a cabinet to reveal shelves packed with soaps, scrubs, and oils.
“May I unpack your saddlebags, my lady?”
Enya nodded, still transfixed by the water gushing into the tub. When it steamed almost to the brim, she shed her travel stained clothes and sank into its depths, gazing out at the snow capped peaks in the distance. Pink crept into her cheeks as Harshilda bundled her discarded clothes into a basket and left her a silk robe.
