Page 31

Unease settles over me.

Leaning against the bookcase to the left of the door—the first one I’d checked—I inspect the area again.

Something brought me here…a strange lure I could feel in my blood.

A type of magic I’ve never experienced before.

The thought no sooner forms than a woman strides into the room, passing so close on my right side that I jerk back. A tight braid binds her auburn hair, and white, formfitting trousers cling to her muscular legs. A jacket reaches up to her chin.

From her hands dangles a Tirenese military pack, much like the one I’m wearing.

Despite her simple attire, everything about the woman screams royalty.

Shock streaks through my veins like lightning. I freeze, gawking at the woman who doesn’t seem to have noticed me yet.

Even without anyone telling me, without ever seeing a portrait, I know exactly who she is, down deep in my bones. Her resemblance to me only lends more weight to my certainty.

Queen Aero.

But that’s impossible. Queen Aero died centuries ago.

Yet my confidence remains unshakable.

All of this rushes through my mind in the seconds it takes her to reach a shelf on the far wall. I open my mouth to speak to her, to ask her how she’s survived—not just the drachen attack as described in the book about her, but also for all these centuries.

How old is this woman? And how is this possible?

Before I can form the words, she walks right through the cobwebs without disturbing them.

I shake my swimming head, trying to understand what I’m seeing. There was no sound of a door opening or closing. And the door remains shut. Mine are the only footprints in the dust.

I swallow back my apprehension. “Hello?”

Ignoring me, she rushes to the other side of the room. Her feet glide right through the deteriorating table.

Goose bumps erupt down my arms.

Holy hells.

She didn’t survive. She’s a ghost. Or possibly a vision. Whatever she is, it’s obvious she has no idea I’m here.

I can’t help the overwhelming sense of awe as I watch my ancestor, dead for no one knows how long, dart about the room. Her hands tremble with a mixture of haste and precision, stuffing a rugged satchel with scrolls and vials that clink together.

Why am I seeing her now? Obviously she was here once, since she’s using the shelves that are still there and grabbing things that aren’t there any longer. But why am I being shown this? Is it her doing? Or something about the magic of this place?

“Please, think this through.” The voice of an unseen man causes me to jump, yet she pays him no heed.

Turning, I hunt for the new speaker. The door remains shut, and no ghostly figure stands in the way of the exit.

“I have done plenty of thinking already,” the queen snaps, her tone laced with desperation. “I have my answers and now must act on them. Before the drachen can attack again.”

Her fingers close around the hilt of a sword on a table strewn with maps and tomes. The blade sings as she lifts it, reflecting the ethereal light that seems to radiate from nowhere.

“You’ve kept them from reaching us so far. Why this rush to change things?” The unseen speaker has moved farther into the room, his worry emanating from the air near the table.

“Every flame I’ve conjured merely pushes them back. My fire is not enough, Vincent.” After she secures the weapon at her side, her gaze wanders to the shadows that dance along the walls. “The drachen return, stronger and hungrier. The fear they spread is consuming my soldiers. Nick told me the only way to end the corruption is with phoenix tears. I must gather those.”

Mounting questions begin to override the sense of unease prickling at my spine.