"We all should take a moment to clean up, go check on Gunnar, and then we can reconvene with King Vilulf to discuss what comes next."
Everyone nodded in agreement except Liv, who only looked at Bryn with a spark of humor in her grey eyes before agreeing.
"Fine, follow me," Liv sighed, brushing past Bryn in the process.
Fire shot up Bryn's arm as their skin came in contact. Her eyes flashed up to meet Liv's, her surprise reflecting in Liv's stare. The moment passed as quickly as it sprung forward, the world around them becoming clear again as Liv continued walking.
Their small group trekked through the bright winter sunlit streets that lead to the palace at the center of the city. When they had left to rescue Herrick, they had sprinted through the city, unable to take in its beauty. Now, they absorbed every detail they could without stopping for closer inspection.
The grey-brick roads twisted and turned into nonsensical patterns through buildings that seemed to have no obvious reason for their placement. The moonstone that built each structure glowed in the sunlight, its marbled veins mimicking the shadows their Elven preferred to wield over light. The houses they passed had glossy front doors made from black oak that reflected everything that passed like a mirror. Most properties had open courtyards with night gardens that grew wildly over furniture and up walls, their blooms shut tight in the white light of the early morning.
Reaching what appeared to be the market district in the city center, an open space in the shape of a perfectly symmetrical sphere was hosting multiple shop owners, their wares for display and purchase in tents that varied in shades of purple, deep green, and yellows. In the delicate wind that blew through the city center, the tents billowed and danced like the lights that shone in the sky each night as the moon rose.
Bryn didn't know why the sight of citizens shopping for fresh produce, linens, and pastries brought tears to her eyes, but as they dripped onto her cheeks, she could feel a release of pent-up sorrow unfurling in her chest in a wave she couldn't slow. This was what their kingdom should be like, what their home in Logi should have been if their father had not sown hateful seeds into their people.
Someone reached for her hand, the familiar grasp and calluses scraping against her own before a cool and winding sensation wound up her arm. Bryn looked down to see her sister at her side, their silver tattooed hands entwined. As the silver ink danced up their arms, a perfect reflection of each other, the promise they made to each other that night in Logi sprang forward in her mind.
A sharp squeeze around her fingers and Maude released her hand, their tattoos stilling again, but Bryn knew there was a promise in the gesture.
Together. In this life and the next.
Herrick could not absorb what he saw of Nida, the last Elven city in Ahland, because his only focus was on reaching Gunnar's side. Though he trusted his friends when they said he was still alive, a lot can happen in one week.
Was he still alive? Had he woken up? Or worse, had he left them all behind to join the gods in Valhalla?
The only other thing he was aware of was Maude's movements. They hadn't spoken a single word to each other since their standoff on the deck. Herrick was aware that she was missing valuable information, just like she was withholding information about what had happened to her while he was imprisoned and why she was able to wield multiple forms ofgalder.
The answer was clear to Herrick, but he was having a hard time accepting the truth that was staring him in the face because of how impossible it should be. And yet, Liv was proof that the possibility was more real than ever. The answer he sought was within his reach, but he let them slip away like the shadows of the night when the sun rose again. He needed her to be the one to say the words that burned in the logical part of his mind.
Eventually, they reached a building that was wider than it was tall, its opulent trimmings and Elven soldiers posted at every entrance giving away that this was the Midnight Palace they were going to stay in. Liv had told him that she was an orphan who had been taken in as a ward of the Shadow King, Aeric Vilulf, and had spent the last two hundred years as a nomad to keep up-to-date information on Ahland. Herrick still couldn't believe it, but with the way Liv had always moved so fluidly and been cagey about her past, it was a wonder he never figured it out before.
Once inside, their group began to split up, heading toward their respective rooms that had housed them these last few weeks. Herrick hesitated, unsure of which way to go and reluctant to ask when Liv motioned toward where Maude was headed.
"Follow her. She'll take you to Gunnar."
"How do you know?" Herrick asked, his body betraying him by already moving to follow hiseldr.
"Because she has checked on him every day since she woke up," Liv said, her tone implying that the answer should have been obvious. "When she wasn't at his side, she was sneaking around the palace or practicing hergalderwith Dahlia, the healer who has been working on Gunnar."
She turned before he could respond and made her way down a long hallway that was scarcely decorated. As he caught up to Maude's brisk pace, Herrick took a moment to admire the elegance of the palace: its grey moonstone walls, the deep purple runner that appeared black, and the skylights that mimicked the night sky. The only art that was displayed were depictions of the moon phases, garden scenes in the deepest part of the night, and the occasional abstract piece where the colors ran together in a burst of life that caught Herrick's attention for longer than he thought possible.
The hallway he was following Maude down skirted around the outside of the building. To his immediate right, the walls gave away to large arches that were open to the bright morning, the cold air being kept out of the hall by some sort of smallergalderthat the Elven were no doubt manipulating. The large courtyard that they breezed past had scattered fountains that trickled water rapidly and elegant marble benches placed strategically to allow privacy to whoever sought the garden's peace.
Herrick could not deny that this city was beautiful, its design blending the inside and outside of buildings seamlessly, and the gardens that burst with spicy florals instantly reminding him of Maude.
Herrick glanced at her again, her fast steps putting her exactly ten paces ahead of him. Her long hair had been freed from its braid, the deep red glowing brightly when it caught the sunlight. Though nothing had changed outwardly, Maude seemed to fit in these halls.
Her darker coloring, the way she seemed to float as she walked. Her leather leggings were snug against her form, the devastating curves that Herrick's fingers begged to trace, and the leather vest she had taken to wearing over her loose tunics cut her hourglass figure in a way that he knew attracted the attention of many others.
Lost in his observation of her, Herrick did not realize that they had arrived at a simple wooden door that Maude was currently pounding on. Her back still to Herrick, she reached for the black metal handle and let herself into the small room.
The walls were smooth inside what appeared to be an office. There was a second door directly opposite the one they entered, but Herrick could not discern where it would lead. Next to the door was a small desk lined with all the things a healer would need to create medicinal potions, salves, and tonics. The roaring fire next to the table had a hook to hang a pot, but it was missing, the fire banked.
Directly in front of them was a small cot that was currently empty.
"Dahlia?" Maude called out, her voice coming out slightly squeaky, as she pushed the back door open.
Herrick followed her through the small office, his panic beginning to rise with her abrupt shift in mood. Maude seemed to have expected someone when she entered that space.
