Threads of Emerald

Threads of Treachery: Chapter 22

I was not tired. The persistent aching in my bones, the light thrumming in my head had vanished on a distant wind.

Celeste caught an updraft, wings levelling out as she glided through the air. Ophelia wasn't far ahead, the gentle flap of her wings barely audible over the lashing wind and spits of rain from the net of clouds above.

Minutes passed by. Hours maybe. No trees or ravines or rivulets of water appeared below, the land remained barren, a stretch of sandpaper as the mares overtook the wind.

The pure speed of the mares was enough to make my head spin.

"Where are we going?", my voice drifted on the winds, hoarse and dry as I peeled my tongue from the roof of my mouth. I needed water. As if the gods had breathed, the question drifted towards Orion, who turned in the almost invisible saddle.

"I want to show you the capital, even if we can't stay there", a hint of grief flashed in his eyes, gone as if the gods had breathed that away, too.

I'd presumed the capital was too far from the Orb as to be a useful place to bathe and sleep.

The King had shown no ounce of fear at the Silver Cove, just pure inhibited strength and darkness. But, perhaps the capital wasn't secure enough, unrest a heavy cloud that had settled over it, like a mist that shrouded a canopy or trees or a silvery river. I wish I knew. I wish Rowena could have told me, would have been here to confirm or deny.

Since I'd found that book, I felt as if a comforting presence watched over me. Reassuring whispers on the cool wind, You're going to make it through this. One more step forward.

As I tried to piece together that damned puzzle, I felt as if I was standing on the banks of a river. Stepping stones rising in the body of water. I'd made my way onto the first, the stone firm and flat under my leather boots.

But, the next few stones could be jagged, or sunken deep into the water, or other horrors lurking and writhing the same way the mist clouded the surface.

I needed to get back.

To that book. To find out the truth. To cross to the other bank to my mother and Aphina, or give in to the strong pull of the currents, to drown in the murky depths and be reunited with father.

I couldn't think like that. I wouldn't think like that. I would make it across, rock by rock, until my feet were firmly planted on the other bank. As if the winds had heard the doubt that lay heavy in my gut, the landscape changed ahead. The bare, yellow stones traded for towering black buildings, jutting high into the onyx canopy of night.

"Temeros, the City of Passion and Insight, the capital city of the Amber Kingdom", Orion had halted in the lowest layer of the mist shrouded clouds, surveying the dark buildings rising like jutting lances.

"It's not how I imagined it", I'd imagined the city to be bright and colourful, painted alleys forming a loom of colour and life through the open streets of the city. I'd imagined greenery, swaths of grass at every turn. Citrine and verbena and sea fennel drifting through the air.

Instead, the air was scented with sulfur and mildew and ash, wrapping around me as the mulberry cloak Orion had given me billowed in the wind did. An unwelcome embrace.

"I rarely come here, the Castle of Amber remains my main residence. Though the private residence in this city is much more modern. The Castle has remained my home since my parents died, it was home to them. I know it's old and drafty and in need of repair, but it's the only piece of them I have left. I can still smell my father's sent in the armchairs, my mother's perfume on the couches and throws", a sad smile tugged at his lips.