Page 33 of Forged By Malice (Beasts of the Briar #3)

32

Rosalina

“P rince Kairyn,” I breathe, fully turning to face him. The hairs on my arms rise, and for some reason, the idea of having my back to him feels wrong.

I shouldn’t be surprised to see him here. He’s the leader of the High Clerics. And I know I’m not in the wrong for entering this space; Ezryn told me the monastery is open to everyone. But between his height, the broadness of his shoulders, and the sweeping black armor, the exit to the hall appears shrunken behind him.

“Apologies. I was walking with Prince Ezryn and Prince Farron and became distracted.” I look down. “They’re just up ahead. I’m sure they’re wondering where I am.”

“It’s understandable. The artwork throughout the monastery can not only be distracting, but enchanting.” His voice is a reverberated timbre through the black helm. “I would know. I’ve lived here for decades.”

Been banished here for decades, he means.

Kairyn stands beside me and looks up at the mosaic. A white stardrop on his breastplate, reflects the low light. “The Queen, in all her glory. The Golden Acolytes honor her memory and pray that she will return to the Vale.”

My breath is heavy in my throat. I blink up at him. “Is that what you pray for?”

He stays silent for a moment, reminding me of Ezryn. Then he says: “Waiting for someone else to save you is a hopeless endeavor. The Queen is renowned as loving and just. She would not want us to sit in denial. A truly selfless ruler would want a new power to rise and shepherd the Vale as she had done before.”

It’s strange to see him speaking like this, quietly and with such thought. So different from my first impression of him when he confronted Ezryn. And yet…

I see it in his clenched fists, the heave of his heavily armored chest. A storm brews beneath the surface.

“My name is Rosalina O’Connell,” I say, straightening. “I’m … friends with your brother.”

“Oh, I know who you are, Lady O’Connell.” Kairyn turns and walks toward the door. “Everyone knows who you are.”

“Everyone?” I say more to myself.

Kairyn stands in the doorway. “My brother is a great many things, but a connoisseur of the arts he is not. It would be my honor to show you the monastery’s other masterpieces.”

Slowly, I step toward him. Looking down the hall, there’s no sign of Ez or Farron. But they know I’m here.

Kairyn is Ezryn’s family—maybe I can help soothe whatever resentment lies between them. We need allies more than ever.

“I’d be delighted,” I say.

Kairyn sweeps a huge hand behind my back and shivers run down my spine.

He leads me up a staircase and into a grand hall filled with tables, desks, and resplendently carved pillars. “This is the study chamber, a place for contemplation, meditation, and scholarly pursuits. It is also home to one of my favorite pieces of art.”

He directs me past a row of bow-necked acolytes and into a hallway capped by a beautiful arched window. Golden light from outside filters in onto a tapestry.

I drift over to it, eyes searching the threads. It goes from ceiling to floor, depicting an epic scene.

Stretching across the top are colorful, nebulous clouds. In the very middle, blooms a glowing rosebush.

I point up. “What is that?”

Kairyn’s voice echoes in the hallway. “The Above, of course. The first realm. A place that now only exists in memory … or so they say.”

My eyes drift lower to the very bottom. In a perfect parallel, it depicts caverns and dark mist. “That is the Below, I suppose.”

Kairyn quirks his head at me. “You do not recognize such sacred art. It must be true then.”

“Hmm?”

He takes a heavy step, his shape blocking out the light of the window. My heart pounds; he’s the only thing I can see, towering over me, his body silhouetted by the light. He reaches out a massive, gloved hand, and I shrink back—

But he only gently touches the point of my ear. “It’s true. You were not fae-born. Or you were and…”

I give a nervous laugh. “Yeah, I wish I could tell you the whole story, but I don’t even know it.”

“The Princes of Castletree have truly kept their little treasure to themselves.”

My voice finds strength: “The princes and I make the best decisions we can for Castletree.”

“Our dying hope,” he murmurs. “Twenty-five years they’ve been searching to heal the source of all magic, and still nothing. Some people may think they hoard the magic for themselves.”

“Some people would be wrong,” I growl.

“Rumor has it more problems plague our dear princes. Their home rots, goblins run wild, and some say they’ve even caught sight of a horrible monster running through the brambles. A beast in the Briar.”

Now, it’s my turn to steady myself, to be like Ezryn and think before I speak. “I find the scariest beasts aren’t the ones with teeth and claws, but the ones that hide behind a smile.”

We hold each other’s gazes—his that terrible dark void beneath the protruding metal brow—before he chuckles, deep and haunting.

“I happen to love things that scare me, Lady O’Connell.” He turns to the tapestry. “As you are a new-born fae and my brother has not seen fit to educate you, let me. I have often taught the youngest acolytes of our history.”

I shift back to the art, keeping Kairyn visible in my peripheral.

“At the dawning of time, there was only the Realm Above, a place of ethereal beauty. And it owed its radiance to the Gardens of Ithilias, a celestial rosebush that bathed the realm in its divine light.”

He sweeps his hand up toward the top image. A celestial rosebush … My heart thuds with anticipation.

“The fae lived here in peace and serenity. And yet, not all were happy to be bathed in the light. A fae woman coveted a land of her own. So, she stole a precious flower from the rosebush and, with its magic, forged the Realm Below.”

My eyes catch on the scene underneath the nebulous clouds: a fae woman is sewn into the threads, her eyes glinting even in the fabric. Her black hair flows behind her as she pulls a rose from its stem.

“In her new realm, the woman used the stolen rose to breed creations of her own, monsters crafted of the darkened soil of her realm.”

“The goblins,” I whisper.

“And the like.” It almost sounds like there’s a smile behind Kairyn’s lips, and I realize I must appear captivated.

Because I am.

“The fae woman who stole the rose,” I breathe. “What was her name?”

Kairyn’s fists clench. “Sira, Queen of the Below.”

I’ve heard the name. Farron’s words drift back to me from months ago: Someone even Caspian is afraid of.

Kairyn continues: “For her treachery in stealing the rose, Sira was banished from the Realm Above. In retaliation, she waged war upon those who had wronged her, unleashing her creations onto the celestial city. Despite their courage, the fae of the Realm Above knew not the ways of war. Sira destroyed the rosebush, and the Realm Above was lost.”

I can’t help it; my fingers drift over the images Kairyn depicts: the rosebush throttled by darkness, the clouds caving in on themselves. “That can’t be the end.”

“It wasn’t.” Kairyn reaches out and takes my hand in his, directing me to a new image. One of an ethereal fae drenched in light. Four roses float around her head. “A brave fae named Aurelia sensed the impending doom and severed four flowers from the rosebush before its demise.”

“Aurelia,” I whisper. “The Queen.”

“From the ashes of devastation, she crafted a new world and grew a grand castle, a tree imbued with the fallen magic of the Realm Above.” His voice lowers. “A twisted throne of power.”

I trace the edges of the brilliant tree, my heart blooming like its branches. “Castletree.” Home .

Kairyn’s movements are slow, languishing, as he leads me across the tapestry to the next image: a fabric version of the mosaic I saw earlier. “From the plucked roses, she created four realms, and bequeathed them to her four most loyal servants. She named them princes and princesses, forever binding the magic of these realms to hers. The self-proclaimed Queen of the Enchanted Vale sat upon her throne with vengeance in her heart.”

I turn to Kairyn. “What do you mean, vengeance?”

“The war was far from over, Lady O’Connell. Aurelia had lost her first home and suddenly had dominion over not one realm, but five. And she intended to make Sira pay for what she had taken.”

Before I can ask another question, Kairyn places his hand on the small of my back again. “Come. I will show you more than art.”

Kairyn leads me into an elevator shaft: a strange combination of mechanical engineering and the spark of magic. The back is completely open, revealing the twisting river down the mountain and Florendel far in the distance. He places his finger on the door and traces a rune. My stomach leaps into my throat as we shoot up.

Seconds turn into minutes as we continue flying up, up, up. Kairyn says nothing. I twiddle my fingers around and around. The silence sits between us, heavy and awkward.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “So, you live here?”

“Yes.”

“Do … Do you like it?”

“No.”

Okay, this has transitioned from awkward to super awkward. At least in front of the tapestry, we could talk about the artwork.

I glance over my shoulder. “At least your view was nice?”

A heavy exhale sounds from beneath his helm. “I suppose there are certain benefits to residing in this place.”

“Oh yeah? Good food? Comfy bed?”

The elevator shudders to a stop, and Kairyn grabs my elbow, steadying me before I pitch forward. The doors creak open. “My brother doesn’t live here.” Then he stomps out on to the floor.

Let it go, Rosalina, I chide myself. But I guess becoming fae didn’t make me smarter. “You don’t like being around Ez?”

Kairyn stops walking. “Ez…” he mumbles, shaking his head. “ Ez. You sound like that fool Keldarion.”

We’re now in a narrow stone hallway. I look out of a small arched window to my right, and my legs nearly give way. The horizon is long-gone; only clouds are visible. I have never been this high up in my life.

Kairyn swings around, black cape swishing behind him. “Even you. They call you the Golden Rose after what you pulled in Autumn. Fated mate to High Prince Farron. And even you…”

I cross my arms. “ Even I what?”

His words are slow, as if speaking to a child. “Even you don’t see it. No one ever has.” He turns and storms down the hallway. “Until I make them see.”

“Wait!” I pull up the hem of my skirt and run after him. The narrow hallway opens up on one side, overlooking a courtyard. I gasp; hundreds of soldiers are training in perfect unison, their movements fluid as a dance.

Kairyn stands above them, watching.

“What can’t I see?” I pant to catch my breath.

He sighs. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Then tell me the rest of the story.” I touch his forearm. The act seems to startle him, and he looks down on my fingers upon his armor.

There’s something almost innocent in his apprehension. I try to hold his gaze through the visor. Ezryn was like this when I first met him: stern yet skittish. Maybe I can show Kairyn that things have changed at Castletree, that he and Ezryn could rebuild the bonds that were broken.

Kairyn’s helmet tilts, and he seems to look lower, below my eyes. “There was still more blood to be shed. And the Queen was quick to spill it.”

He pulls away from me and continues down the hall. I scurry to keep up. “Not only acolytes and clerics live here, but also the Queen’s Army, an elite army that the Queen would call on in times of war. And she would call on the High Rulers, too. The first High Prince of Spring forged five divine weapons, one for each of the rulers of the realms: Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn, and the Queen’s Realm.”

The Queen’s Realm. The home of Castletree, what we now call the Briar. It must have looked so different back then.

“When wielded together,” Kairyn continues, “the five weapons were said to be able to summon an impossible magic. Some legends even say they could open a way to the remnants of the Above.”

Kairyn leads me up a winding staircase. My heart beats at a frantic pace, the story like electricity. I can barely breathe, let alone speak.

“Though war raged for many years, Sira and her creations were eventually defeated. They slunk back into the Below … at least for a time. Queen Aurelia decreed that in periods of peace, there was no need to wield weapons of such immense strength. The monastery had just been created, and so they were kept here, at the very top, for safekeeping.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? Anyone could come up and take one.”

“It is not so simple. Aurelia was clever. She enchanted each of the weapons so that they could only be wielded by one who wore her token.”

“No one else could pick them up?” I breathe.

Kairyn gives another dark laugh. “Oh, anyone could pick them up. It would just drain their life and corrupt their blood until they were nothing but shallow husks.”

“Heck of a system,” I mumble.

We reach a door at the end of the stairwell, and Kairyn stops walking. He’s looking at me again. Not at my eyes. Further down.

At my moonstone necklace.

I quickly slip it beneath my dress.

Kairyn turns away and throws open the door. We come to a small, circular room. Wind whips through the open arched windows. Five pedestals arc around the space, all except one gilded with a beautiful weapon. There’s a massive hammer carved with steel vines, a glowing teal trident, a copper lance sparkling in the sun, and…

I step forward.

A bow.

A bow unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Its delicate frame, crafted from shimmering moonstone and steel, is adorned with golden constellations. Its string pulses with radiant energy.

I extend my hand toward it—

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Kairyn grabs my shoulder. “The Bow of Radiance was Aurelia’s own weapon. The corruption seems to work … quicker on those who touch it. Unless,” his voice lowers, “you somehow wielded the Queen’s token.”

“Why would the Queen create a token for her own weapon? Wouldn’t she be able to wield it?”

“Of course. The Queen could brandish any with no consequences. Some believe she made a token for her bow in the happenstance she ever came upon her fated mate and wished for them to take up arms.”

I nearly clutch my necklace but stop. I suddenly have a great desire to get Kairyn’s eyes off of me. “Do the others have names?”

“Of course. There’s Summer’s Trident of Honor, Autumn’s Lance of Valor, and Spring’s own Hammer of Hope.”

Gesturing to the bare pedestal, I say, “What belongs there?”

“The Sword of the Protector. Before the Queen disappeared, she granted Winter protection over the realms in her absence. It has been passed from High Ruler to High Ruler and is now in the care of the current High Prince.”

“Keldarion.”

Kairyn walks to a window and looks out. “He must have it with him in Castletree. Perhaps you’ve seen it?”

An embarrassing memory flashes through my mind of being blackout drunk and swinging this sacred sword around like a toy. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t hold it for longer or it probably would have started to taint my blood. I hadn’t felt any corruption at all when I’d held the icy hilt in my hand. “Can’t say I have.”

“A shame,” Kairyn mutters. “Perhaps if we had all five weapons, we could rid Castletree of its corruption.”

A chill runs down my back. “I should probably head back to the entrance hall. I’m sure Ezryn and Farron are looking for me.”

Kairyn nods and walks back over to the door, holding it open. “Thank you for indulging my stories, Lady O’Connell,” Kairyn rumbles as I walk past him. “It has been a great pleasure to finally meet you.”

I stop and stare up at him. “They are simply stories, aren’t they? Legends?”

“Oh, I’m not so sure, Lady O’Connell. Legends have a way of becoming all too real when the time is right.”

The weight of his answer hangs over me as I descend the stairs. I place a hand on my necklace. What if these are more than stories?

What if I’m part of them?