Page 40 of Death of the Glass Angel
“And they wear thick makeup and a veil?” Felsin traced the black liner running around his eyes. “Halfway there.”
Bewitched by his smile, Janus looked back at the treeline.
In his youth, Evander had complained that ‘talking to women was difficult.’ But didn’t men realize talking to them was just as daunting?
White mist seeped from the forest and rushed down the mountain, rolling across Janus’ boots like flowing water. Fear shot through Janus as she tried to back out of it. But the sudden mist moved as quickly as it arrived and engulfed the path.
Panic rose in her throat. Grabbing at it, Janus’s breath came quicker as she fought off a panic attack.
Felsin grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down until they both kneeled. “Sh.” He said quietly. “It’s alright.”
Janus stared at the mist, entranced.
“Mist like this is common here,” Felsin said softly. “Whatever rumors you’ve heard, it’s perfectly safe.”
The rumors Janus had heard could frighten the stoutest of men. Ghosts walked the world of Altanbern, they said, seeking the demise of their murderers.
Would Eros appear within? Would he point to his killer and condemn her?
“Comforting, even.” Felsin continued. “Your ancestors and loved ones watch over you.”
“I’d rather they didn’t,” Janus said quietly.
“Why not?”
As abruptly as it had arrived, the mist dispelled, rolling off the cliffside and tumbling down the mountain. Touching her back, Felsin helped her to her feet, hands lingering on her arms.
“Always kneel.” He said. “The ancestors are harmless so long as you show respect.” When he noticed her face, he lowered his voice. “Are you alright?”
“Fine.” Janus nodded.
Felsin stared at her intently before stepping away. Pulling the cat from his bag, he handed the ball of fur to Janus. “Why don’t you carry Sors?”
Without thinking, Janus hugged the warm creature tightly and buried her face in its fur. When she looked back up, Felsin was smiling at her.
“Come on,” He said, “What’s awaiting us will cheer you up.”
Thankfully, he chose not to pursue the matter. Janus cradled the cat as they ascended the final leg of the hike. The trees thickened as they reached the mountain’s peak, leaving only a single spot where a clearing overlooked the valley.
Janus had once thought nothing stood taller than the peak of the Valerian tower. Evidently not.
Felsin nudged her. “Look there.”
An audible gasp escaped Janus when she saw the ruins nestled into the forest. Forgetting herself, she set Sors down and jogged forward, running a hand along the old stone and fishing out her journal.
Judging from the level of erosion, this building was at least a few centuries old, and from the general shape, it appeared to have been a large two-story building with a much broader base than peak.
An old Altanese design, specifically from the Kahn clan, dating back before the three chiefs moved to Weisskopf to form a joint reign.
Flipping open her journal, Janus sketched two images: what stood before her, and what it might have looked like in its prime.
“Something tells me,” Felsin said as he joined her. “I don’t need to share the history.”
Janus gestured at nothing as her quill flew across the page. “If I recall correctly, the ruling chief was dragged out and deposed. This place was abandoned.”
“More or less. Do you know the story?”
“About why the clans joined together?” Janus asked. “Not really.”
