Hesitation gnawed at her. Told Kestrel to run.
But this was the only way she knew how to appease the queen, and that was currently the only hope she had at earning Thom’s freedom.
Kestrel had to kick the hems of her heavy skirts out of the way just to be able to step up the few stairs and enter. As she did, she folded her arms around herself, and before she could turn around and utter a thankful word to Marion for leading her around all day, the woman had already closed the door shut behind her.
Kestrel swallowed hard and turned back to face the dark room.
It was just her and the queen now.
Her andher aunt, she reminded herself, hoping that would alleviate some of the stress she was feeling.
It didn’t.
Something ominous hung in the air. It dangled around her like a tangle of cobwebs she had to push through. Or perhaps the ominousness was just because Kestrel wasn’t used to seeing a room filled with a hundred lit candles. They cluttered every surface, some clustered on the floor besideeach pillar, others mounted on the walls at every possible height, and even a few hanging from the ceiling in iron chandeliers.
But the most unsettling thing Kestrel noticed were the white sheets.
They were draped over various items—some with rounded tops that were as tall as she was, others were more square or rectangular, sitting closer to the ground.
And beneath their coverings, things stirred inside.
A rustling of feathers.
A low groan.
A scrape of claws.
The farther she crept into the long room, the more she wanted to run in the opposite direction. But the queen spotted her before she could think better of it. So Kestrel released the breath in her chest as she strode the rest of the way past the caged creatures.
“Welcome, my darling. Come come, don’t be shy.” The queen ushered Kestrel closer, up more steps at the end of the long, dark room. When she placed a hand upon Kestrel’s shoulder, it felt more like a talon. “I hope you had a productive time in the library?”
“I did,” Kestrel managed to splutter before her eyes settled on the altar before them. Then her heart twisted.
Resting atop every inch of the stone slab in front of her was a different blade, each unique from the last. There were short ones, curved ones. Some with multiple sharp ends. Some that still had dried flecks of blood on them.
“And?” Queen Signe said, growing impatient in the silence. “What did today’s lesson cover?”
It took Kestrel a moment to realize she was referring to her studies in the library and not the intimidating display of weaponry before them. She had to blink to force her gaze away,to try to conjure any memory other than the small arsenal at her hands.
When she did, Kestrel barely remembered that Barnabus told her he had been instructed to focus on recent events only, but that it was his personal belief that it would be better to start from the beginning.
Kestrel didn’t want to get him in trouble. So she kept her response vague. “It’s all a bit overwhelming, and I’m still trying to understand it all…especially how my mother’s magic could’ve caused so much pain.” There. That seemed like it would be an acceptable topic for them to have covered: Grimtol’s most recent history with her mother’s dark curse.
Considering the queen didn’t press her further about her studies, it seemed to work.
“Yes, well, your mother was always quite powerful. Did you know that she also released one of the dragons from its resting?” Kestrel’s attention jerked to the queen, who nodded. “It’s true. Our father gave her what he believed to be a magical item. It turned out the item was actually a dragon egg, dormant for who knows how many hundreds or thousands of years. And the moment Aenwyn beheld it, a dragon broke free.”
The queen tsked at the memory, as if it tasted bitter on her tongue to reshare it.
“I didn’t know that,” Kestrel admitted, but this was precisely the kind of topics she hoped to discuss with the queen. “No one has really spoken to me about my mother, so I don’t know much about her.”
A quick, singular haughty laugh. “Yes, well, I suppose it’s fitting that her magic released dragons upon us and terminated them as well.” With a distant look in her eyes, Queen Signe’s gaze drifted down to the altar. She dragged a slender finger along the sharp end of a dagger, but not hard enough to draw blood or so much as move the blade. It was almost lovingly.Longingly. “She had the sight as well, my sister. A talent of hers that our father prized above all others.”
Sensing the bitterness in the queen’s tone, Kestrel realized this conversation was getting her nowhere fast. She decided to change the topic to something perhaps more endearing to her aunt.
“And what about you? What types of magic do you wield?”
A grin as thin as a spider’s leg curved her lips and she removed her finger from the dagger.
