Page 219 of Of Empires and Dust
The pendant.
Not a door that it unlocks, a secret to be revealed. A trick, a mask, a painting over truth, thought forever sealed.
The glamour.
In that brief moment, Calen had a realisation that he might not want to find out what lay on the other side of the door. Whatever it was, Rokka had led him there. The man had not told Calen that riddle out of the goodness of his heart. And Calen couldn’t shake the feeling that one more soul was trying to tie strings around him, and yet there was nothing he could do. He could not simply tell Kallinvar and the knights that he wouldn’t open the door because he had a ‘feeling’ or because he hated the idea that he was doing another man’s bidding.
He reached forwards and pressed the pendant into the alcove.
It snapped perfectly into place.
When nothing happened, he noticed that the symbol of The Order was upside down. He turned the pendant to the right. It resisted slightly but moved, turning in place. A click sounded when the symbol was right way up.
The sounds of metal sliding and cogs turning rumbled from within the door. With one final click, the door moved, less than an inch, and silence followed. Calen looked to Haem, who gave him a short nod.
He pushed open the door.
Chapter 48
The Last of Us
18thDay of the Blood Moon
Aravell – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom
Ella walkedwith her hands in her pockets, the sound of crashing waterfalls like music in her ears. The warm light of the midday sun formed deep shadows in the crevices of the two dragon statues that framed the archway before her. There was a time when the two carved dragons atop the balustrades of The Gilded Dragon had been the greatest work of craftsmanship Ella had ever laid eyes on. And now they were mere trinkets compared to the statues before her that looked almost alive, the erinian stone glowing with an otherworldly light.
But no matter the beauty before her eyes, her mind would not shift from thoughts of her mam. She had lain awake each night, going over everything Fenryr had said again and again. All those years, her mam had been a druid. Her mam had lied to her, poured poison down her throat. The woman she had trustedwith every fibre of her soul had lied to her from the day she’d been born.
Faenir gave a low rumble, his shoulder pressing against Ella’s arm. The wolfpine had been her shadow ever since she’d woken, never letting her out of his sight. Even then his hackles rose at every elf who came within a few feet.
Three Fenryr Angan stalked the shadows behind her, keeping their distance but never letting her stray too far. That had been the way in the days since waking.
“These are dangerous times, young one,”Fenryr had said.
As she passed beneath the arch, Ella looked up to see a sprawling relief carved into the stone, impossibly delicate and beautiful with a level of detail she would only have thought possible with charcoal or a brush.
She carried on, stepping into the basin that the elves called Tahír un Ilyienë – the Garden of Remembrance. She preferred the name in the Old Tongue. The word ‘garden’ could not have been less suited to the place in which Ella now stood.
Five waterfalls flowed over the edge of the basin, cutting through circular stone terraces that looked down over an enormous central yard. The waterfalls fed into streams and onwards into a moat that surrounded a stone island in the basin’s centre, where five statues stood at least ten times as tall as Ella.
At the centre of it all was the tallest and largest tree Ella had ever seen in her life. Its thick trunk climbed upwards from the middle of the island, branches coiling about one another like snakes, sprawling outwards. Vines dangled, blooming with flowers of white and luminescent purple. The great tree’s canopy covered two thirds of the sky, strands of warm orange and pale pink piercing through.
Many elves sat in the terraces, their legs folded beneath them, eyes closed. Some walked about the base of the tree, others sat with their feet in the streams.
She crossed the white stone bridge nearest to her, walking between the statues of the human and the elf. She stopped before the base of the tree and looked up at the glowing purple canopy. She couldfeelsomething emanating from the tree, like a heartbeat or a soul. She wasn’t sure ifsheor the wolf within her could feel it, but it was there nonetheless. This tree had a connection to the Sea of Spirits. It calmed her. As she stared up at the tree’s canopy, Ella could have sworn she could hear her mother’s voice echoing.
“You are Ella Bryer.” The voice that spoke was soft and delicate.
Ella lowered her gaze to find an elf in a light blue dress standing a few feet to her left. Ella gasped as her stare found its way to the elf’s eyes. Her irises were black as jet, surrounded by a ring of pale red. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“It’s all right. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.” She gave Ella a weak smile that held a deep sadness. “My name is Aruni Enathrea. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“You know who I am?”
“Ah, apologies. Your brothers, they spoke of you often, particularly Calen. He’s a lovely boy.” Aruni reached up and brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face, her sleeve pulling back to reveal raw wounds on the elf’s wrists, scabs old and new forming a ring around her forearm. “My Valdrin admires him quite a bit.”
Ella had been heartbroken to find that both Haem and Calen were not in the city when she had woken. Though the others insisted they would be back, it did little to quell the anger within her at Calen for leaving so soon after she’d finally found him. ButHaem… She would have given the moon and the stars to have Haem beside her at that moment.
