Page 15 of Oracle of Ruin

My blood boils beneath my skin as I think of how she wore Tanja’s face only moments before. Where Tanja’s playfulness hid kindness and her smile was genuine, Emi is cold and short. Each comment she makes is a thinly veiled insult.

“Well, you’re a shit spy, so what are you really?”

“Just someone who owes Mavis a favor,” she says, then throws a wad of clothing my way. “Put these on.”

I find a thick pair of socks and roll the soft material over my cold feet first. I pull the leather pants and thick sweater on over these before shoving my feet into a sturdy pair of boots. I shift in the clothing, surprised to find how comfortable yet functional all the pieces are. If I have to plan an escape, I suppose at least now I know what I will wear.

Emi scoffs while I wiggle my toes in delight. The clothing still falls loosely from my shoulders, but they are warm and soft. More than that, they are clean, a luxury I haven’t known in months.

“You were supposed to be the queen of this kingdom and yet here you are, wriggling like an insect over a pair of socks?” The girl’s disgust is written across her face.

I maturely stick my tongue her way before flopping back onto the bed and curling up. With warmth in my bones, sleep calls for me again. I can feel my eyelids grow heavy when Emi rips me from my peace.

“Mavis expects you in the dark room,” is all she says as she opens the door.

My lips part in shock when the door opens from the inside. “How’d you do that?” I ask, trailing close behind her.

“The door was enchanted to your blood. Anyone can open it from the inside.”

“From the inside? What about the outside?”

“Only you and Mavis can open it from the outside. When you earn her trust or learn dark magic stronger than that on the door, you will be able to open it from the inside too.”

Her steps are short, but I soon find myself falling behind as she scurries through the cavernous hallway. As we walk, the stone walls grow closer, the once-open space now hardly large enough for us to stand upright.

I duck as the top of my head scrapes the ceiling. “As if ‘dark room’ didn’t sound ominous enough,” I mutter.

The darkness grows around us and I find myself pressing closer to Emi. She scoffs and snaps her fingers. A whirring resounds in the hallways and suddenly, lights spark from the ceiling, lighting the torches.

“Don’t walk too close unless you want to catch on fire.” Emi speaks as if to a child, despite being many years younger than me. “Aren’t you a mage? Make your own light.”

“I can’t. There’s some sort of damper here,” I respond, ignoring her slight. I can hardly feel the burning beneath my skin anymore. When I call or beg for release, it burns in my chest and steals my breath for a moment before sputtering and dying.

A door appears to our right and Emi sharply turns to open it without a response. The room is surprisingly well lit for something called the “dark room.” The walls have been painted a deep red color and lined with a form of wood rather than raw-cut stone like all the other rooms I have been in this compound so far. I drag my fingers along the rough surface, a stray splinter snagging the pad of my index finger. I nurse the wound, popping it into my mouth while Emi stares on in disgust.

“Try to be cordial, Emi. She’s a guest.” Mavis appears from the shadows, not unlike how Kya often does. Something unsettling rises in my throat at the motion. It isn’t hard to picture the two working together, teaching and learning with each other.

“What do you want?”

Mavis dips her chin. “Emi, leave.”

I expect some form of snark or wit from the young girl, but she just bows shortly and walks from the room with the coordinated steps of a soldier.

Mavis returns her attention to me, her eyes painted dark with charcoal, her lips black to match. “I just wanted to get to know you better and give you the opportunity to ask any questions you may have.” The woman snaps her fingers and a tea set forms before us. “Care for a biscuit?”

“I don’t drink tea.”

In an instant, the beverage turns a richer color, the steam from the cup wafting the sweet scent of chocolate to my olfactory senses.

“Molten chocolate, then?”

“I mean I don’t drink with people who kidnap me from my friends and drag me naked through the woods.” I fold my arms over my chest and bend at the waist. While I knew there was nothing much to look at anymore, the cold remembrance of those jeering gazes sends gooseflesh prickling over my skin.

Mavis runs a hand over her sleek braid, tugging a few silver strands loose. “Argon and those men have been dealt with accordingly. I apologize for their actions. They were sent by me, but do not speak for me.” She speaks formally, her shoulders squared. Her etiquette is that of a noblewoman, not a mercenary.

Slowly, I take a sip from the cup before me. The rich liquid coats my tongue and I fold both my hands over the base of the mug, basking in its warmth. I allow myself another small sip. “You said I can ask you anything?”

“That is correct.”

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