“There will be at least another day of walking,” Grimus says, backing up my thoughts. He looks at me, sees the exhaustion in my limbs, and adds, “Perhaps two.”
It reminds me again of how much I’m slowing them down, my human legs forcing me to move slower than the three of them likely can, but I can’t feel too much guilt. After all, they are choosing to be here due to the temptation of whatever magic resides inside me.
If only I knew how to feel or use the magic. I still almost don’t believe it’s in me like they explained. Surely I would know if I had magic, but they are so sure, so adamant, it does have me considering…
“There’s a natural spring about a ten-minute walk to the west if you’d like to stop there,” Zetros offers. “If my memory serves me correctly, there should be a small palace in the midst of it. If there are no other monsters calling it home, it would be a good place to rest.”
“A natural spring,” Bracken repeats, as if searching through his memory. “The one the naga priestess used to reside in?”
“The very same.” Zetros looks in the direction he spoke of, his eyes haunted. “I once spent time there.”
Grimus frowns and looks over his shoulder at Zetros. “I thought the naga priestess resided with humans before the war. The stories say she never hosted guests.”
Zetros meets his gaze straight on. “She didn’t, but her humans were fond of prisoners.”
My stomach twists at his admittance, at the implication that he’d once been imprisoned in the palace he’s suggesting we should stay in. “We can find somewhere else,” I offer.
Zetros’ eyes turn to me as he studies my face, and his own haunted expression softens. “There are no ghosts left for me there,measma. Do no worry on my behalf.” He reaches out and strokes along my jawline, making my stomach flip for a different reason. Bracken and Zetros seem to find excuses to touch me, and what I once thought would repulse me actually intrigues me.
“To the old palace then,” Grimus murmurs, his eyes resting on Zetros for a long moment before he turns to lead the way.
I’m not sure what I expect, but what appears after ten minutes isn’t it. The building is in ruins, just as most of the other ones are. It’s been centuries since the war between humans and monsters, so anything still standing would be either a miracle in itself or just very sturdy craftsmanship. This one is neither. What’s left of the building appears as if whoever built it favored beauty over eternalness.
While some parts of it are caved in and decrepit, the central section of the palace still stands, even if there are large cracks running along the stone and cutting through what was probably once gorgeous artwork. The architecture speaks of another realm, with tall, sweeping doorways leading into darkness, great swooping designs, and colorful artwork that’s now chipped away. If I move just right, the light seems to catch on what looks like jewels embedded in the stone, but that can’t be right. I’ve never seen jewels aside from those around the necks of gilded ladies.
Around the ruins of the palace, nature has risen up and reclaimed what was once hers. Trees and shrubs break through the stone walkways, replacing them with the cushion of a forest floor. The trees bow inwards as if reaching for the stone ruins. It’s beautiful, but knowing about Zetros’ ghosts almost makes me fear it.
“I don’t see the natural springs,” I comment, looking around.
“They are inside.” Zetros points to the central part of the palace. “There is a courtyard in the center of that where many of them are. I do not know if they are still usable or safe, but if they are, we could utilize them.”
“A bath?” I hum. “That sounds like heaven.”
When was the last time I bathed? Right before I was thrown through the barrier for the hunt. I’m not even sure how many days that’s been anymore.
Bracken glances over at me and wiggles his brow. “Perhaps I could join you.”
Narrowing my eyes, I respond, “What will you give me for it?”
His eyes widen at my audacity, but then a sinister smile pulls at his lips, as if he’s happy I’m now joining his game. He probably thinks he’s corrupting me. If only he knew I was already corrupted. “What would you ask me for, Goldie?”
I don’t get the chance to answer, because Grimus grunts at our conversation and points to a large, ornate door that’s leaning as if something large once tried to break it down with its shoulder. “We worry about checking for threats first. The rest comes later.”
The way he doesn’t meet my eyes makes me think he’s jealous that I’d been about to make a deal with Bracken, but I dismiss it from my mind. Grimus doesn’t care. He may have softened toward me, but I doubt he sees me as anything more than a tempting burden.
It leaves me with the question in my own mind—what would I ask for from Bracken if given the opportunity? I’m reminded of our kiss, of the way I wanted to get closer and didn’t actually want to stop, despite our situation. I want the fey just as much as he seems to want me. So what would I ask for? Pleasure? Another kiss? Or would I ask for something ridiculous, like for him to sing me a song and dance? Thankfully, I don’t have to come up with the answer right away.
Grimus leads us toward the large door. All three of my monsters tower over me, so it makes sense that I’m in the middle of them. I still have the knife Grimus gave me strapped to my thigh, thanks to a strip of leather he offered, but I don’t pretend to think I can hold my own against another monster.
“Stay close,measma,” Zetros says, his large form next to mine as Grimus lifts the door from its hinges and pushes it open all the way. He doesn’t close it yet, making sure we have a quick way out if we need it. “We don’t know what calls this place home.”
We step into what was once a beautiful entryway. The floor and ceiling are covered in mosaic murals, and though they are now covered with dirt and grime, all it would take to make them shine again is a bit of cleaning. I can make out some of the imagery—a depiction of a giant snake woman similar to Nero, her arms held wide with a sun over her.
“You mentioned the naga was a priestess,” I comment, staring at the image, wanting to know as much as I can. “What does that mean?”
Zetros glances at the same image, and where I see beauty, he so clearly sees the opposite. “She thought herself a goddess who could speak to the sun and moon. The humans who once resided here with her believed she controlled them. That is why they worshiped her.”
“But you didn’t believe she held such power?” I ask as Grimus moves deeper inside. We follow, Bracken taking up the rear.
