Page 43 of The Shadowed Oracle (The Bonded Worlds #1)
Chapter Twenty-Five
If it weren’t for their host leading them, it would’ve been easy to get lost in the labyrinthine halls of the castle.
Arching doorways made of marble, winding corridors full of the most exquisite sculptures and paintings Ingrid had ever seen, wallpaper hand-painted to look like the sprightly forest leaves and ivy had grown from the floor, with golden chandeliers hanging at every turn, and statues of famous ancestors and great rulers stationed throughout, their stone eyes peering down at them as if judging every move they made.
“Izadora.” Dean lightly nudged Ingrid, nodding toward a large marble sculpture of a beautiful female. The attractive effigy was depicted lifting a scepter to the sky in victory, wearing a crown made of flowers and thorns. Ingrid lingered on the marble figure, wondering at the name.
Dean noticed her laboring and said, “The first Oracle.”
Of course, Ingrid thought. Her name had been Izadora. The first of her kind, savior of Ealis, Queen of the East. Ingrid was ashamed she had forgotten her name, and worse, that she didn’t know much of anything about this great and powerful female.
At the first opportunity, she decided to read everything there was to know about her. She would scour the libraries of Ealis for clues, for stories, accounts from old Viator. Anything to help awaken her magic.
As for now, she needed to focus on keeping track of her friends.
She was falling behind. Her eye would catch a particularly alluring piece of art or an interesting door in some mysterious corner of the castle, and if not for Dean or Tyla dragging her ahead, she would’ve found herself terribly lost in a castle she wasn’t fully welcome in.
While servants and armed guards littered the way, there was still that unsettling feeling of isolation vibrating throughout, leaving the four newcomers heedful of Callinora’s motive.
Only when they reached the princess’s private quarters on the highest level of the titanic structure did she offer any words.
Any clue to what it was she wanted from them.
“Please,” she said simply, standing at the large arching doorway and waving her guests inside. “Come in.”
They slowly waded inside, marveling at the size first, then the décor and amenities of her quarters.
So lured in was Ingrid that she forgot her manners entirely and began strolling about the room as if it were her own.
There was a table full of fresh fruit, bread, cheese, and a reading nook and fireplace at the far corner, accompanied by more art, more jewels, and more books than she could count.
By the time Ingrid got to the bathroom, with its comically large tub, the two ornamental faucets carved into small wolf heads, she was so enamored that she jumped at the sound of Calinnora closing the hefty door behind them.
“I hope this is alright?” the princess asked, pulling a large key she kept in the bosom of her black dress. “Privacy is hard to come by in this court.”
Ingrid nodded half-heartedly.
Raidinn agreed. “No issues here.”
But his sister didn’t seem willing to be friendly just yet.
“Tell us what you want,” Tyla ordered, teetering a line she knew would rattle the princess. By the look on Callinora’s face, she wasn’t used to being spoken to like this, especially not by an outsider.
“Precarious position you find yourselves in,” the princess mused. “And already you’re making demands?” She locked up, then placed the key to the door back inside her dress. “I admire it.”
“Yet, you’re still stalling?” Tyla asked.
“Yes, I suppose I am. But I’m afraid I have to keep you waiting a little longer.
” Callinora looked down at herself. “This dress, and these shoes , they were an absolute nightmare to walk in all morning. A change of clothing is a must before I even think about discussing anything seriously. I will meet you out on the veranda in a few minutes.” She looked to Ingrid.
“Continue to make yourself at home until then.”
Her hemline spun in sparkling glory as she turned and made her way toward a door in the back of her room.
Once the princess was out of sight, Ingrid wasted no time taking advantage of her host’s invitation.
The table full of food had been beckoning to her since she’d stepped inside.
Not wanting to appear rude, she’d only made small steps toward the spread while her eyes went elsewhere, hoping Callinora would take the hint.
The journey had been long, and Raidinn’s satchel of stale tree nuts hardly satiated her appetite.
The others quickly joined Ingrid in the voracious feast. They ate in silence, hunched like wild animals scanning the area for competing predators.
A canopy bed large enough to fit the five of them with golden silk sheets and bone-white ivory columns sat in the center of the room.
Next to the bed was a six-foot-tall dresser carved with the story of some crowned Viator, his Weycus wolf at his side.
And at the edge of the wood-paneled floor, leading to the veranda Callinora spoke of, was an easel holding a half-finished landscape painting.
It was Maradenn, Ingrid realized, from the perspective of where the painter herself sat every night, looking out at her city.
Dean was the first to wipe his hands and walk over to see it for himself.
He kept his head turned away from the others as they joined his side.
Ingrid was just as taken with the view as she had been with the rest of the castle, but she quickly shifted her sights on Dean, sensing something was off with him.
His eyes were wide, mouth shriveled and jaw clenched like he was holding back a sob creeping up his throat. Ingrid might’ve ignored it, if actual tears hadn’t started falling down his cheek.
“What is it?” she whispered, guessing he’d rather keep this display a secret from Raidinn.
“It’s…” His voice was a shaky murmur. “Karis, he described it perfectly. It’s beautiful.”
“It is,” Ingrid agreed.
As the sky darkened and the lights of Maradenn started to flicker on, the enormity of it all became more apparent—the stronghold of mountains and sea surrounding the city acting as a frame for the vibrant beauty.
Intricate architecture ranging from stone houses to towering skyscrapers, with well-cultivated agriculture sprawling throughout, and the sea beyond to the west was like a mirror reflecting it all back up to the stars.
It was a painting containing millions of stories within.
“Can never quite capture the ocean,” Callinora said. She was standing just feet behind them. Now wearing a far more casual, emerald green flowing dress, lightly cinched at the waist and wrapped loosely over her shoulders. “The mirror effect always eludes me.”
“I think you’ve done well,” Raidinn said, leaning over to peek at the canvas once more. “Very… astute.”
“Astute?” Tyla scoffed. She couldn’t help herself.
“Hell,” Raidinn argued. “I was only being polite.”
“So, you don’t like the painting?” Callinora smirked.
“I do! Great painting, your Highness. Brilliant, really.” He clasped his hands behind his back, staring at the floor. Even at his massive size, he appeared like a shy child who’d been forced to interact with strange adults for the first time. “Can we move on now?”
Tyla and Callinora both let out a courteous laugh.
“Of course,” the princess said mercifully.
“Only lightening the mood.” She stepped out to the veranda and placed a hand on the engraved wood railing, the fire and starlight from the city glistening in her eyes.
“Seeing as you aren’t from here, we might be discussing some rather dark topics you aren’t fully informed on. ”
Tyla shook her head in a vehement denial. “We don’t need sugar-coating. We’ve seen enough of the horror to know. Please, we’re all anxious to hear why you brought us here.” An urgency came over her, glancing about the room. “Or why you brought us inside the castle in the first place?”
Callinora deigned a bow of her head, apologetic. “Yes, you deserve answers. So I’ll speak plainly.” She turned to Ingrid and Dean. “I take your silence to mean your accent would’ve given you away? Am I right?”
“We were only being careful,” Ingrid admitted.
“And rightfully so.” Callinora shook her head regretfully.
“It is a sign of the times, nothing more. I’m sure you know by now, but this prejudice wasn’t accepted when I was a girl.
The tales of the first Magus and his madness only served as fairy tales for children back then.
Far from the religious fervor they’ve become. ”
Dean nodded in agreement. He’d dried his tears, and there was no sign of the complex emotions he’d had seconds before. It had been replaced with his typical severity.
“I remember it,” he said. “I was seven years old when I first came here. My mother and…” He nearly said the word father , but opted instead for, “Both my parents. They took me to Ealis. We were able to walk fearlessly through the towns outside Hydor.” He looked out again at the bright and beautiful city below, shaking his head.
“When we arrived here a few days ago, we didn’t know who we could trust. Maradenn was the closest we could get. But now…”
Now they might be forced to repeat the dangerous process all over again. To travel half-blind and hopeful through a merciless land that rejected them simply for where they came from.
Callinora easily read Dean’s mortified expression. “Nothing has been decided,” she said hopefully. “Not until tomorrow. I know my father. And although he won’t admit to it, I can see him better than he sees himself.”