Page 48 of The Shadowed Oracle (The Bonded Worlds #1)
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The tavern wasn’t anywhere near closing down. Drinks were still being poured, dancers still embraced their partners, music still flowed, but the good Princess decided to leave before she got too drunk to lead her exhausted guests back to the castle.
They took the same path they’d taken to get there, a winding cobblestone trail that led them to a hidden dark alleyway between a dress shop and an antiquities vendor so full of knick-knacks and novelties they spilled into the street on rolling tables and shelves.
The four of them stopped as Callinora held up a hand.
The princess drew a simple symbol with her finger, akin to an infinity sign with a zig-zag through the middle, just like she’d done to close the door when they’d first come through, then a small metal hatch with rusty handles on each side slowly materialized. Like magic.
Raidinn stepped forward. “Allow me,” he said, yanking it open to reveal a small passage, a ladder, and an odd, mildew-like smell.
It was an underground tunnel system below the king’s castle, mostly used by the royals in the first days of Maradenn.
Either to hide from an enemy siege or to transport those that the king or queen would rather not be seen coming in or out.
But, in Callinora’s lifetime, they had mostly been forgotten about.
She’d discovered them as a child, after secretly following her mother heading out on one of her trips to the forest.
“Always sneaking off,” Callinora said fondly. “Like mother like daughter.” Her echo carried and bounced off the damp stone walls.
At first, the path had seemed a very unpleasant and dark place full of odd sounds and small critters.
As she became more familiar though, Ingrid grew fond of it.
There was a feeling of mystery at every turn, history in every stretch of ancient rock, not to mention they seemed to go on forever, winding and curling down unseen crevices of this underground world.
Further in, they came upon a ladder leading up to another level of the tunnels. The bronze metal bars shifted slightly as the five of them climbed one at a time. Callinora had gone first, careful not to dirty her white skirt and blouse, then stood at the top waiting for the rest of them.
Ingrid waved the others ahead, peering around the void-like halls for a moment.
There was a strong energy there. She could feel it.
Whispers, cries of the forgotten, and buried secrets all floated around her like butterflies.
If only she reached out and snatched them, she knew she could peer into them, into long-ago ages and forgotten names.
But she didn’t. Her power was unpredictable at best, and she chose patience rather than be launched into another episode.
She gripped the ladder and climbed. On the second, much dryer and well-lit level, the five of them had to be quiet when walking from room to room.
The passages had been built in between the many bedrooms of the castle.
The little corridors were just feet from where trusted vassals and even the king himself slept.
Muted footsteps were all Ingrid heard as they traversed the building, and Callinora’s guidance was imperative due to the lack of signifying traits in the corridors.
It was nearly impossible to distinguish between where you were going and where you just came from.
Just a long hall with thin tunnels and hidden staircases popping up whenever they felt like it.
“I think you’ll like this one.” Callinora had stopped in the middle of what seemed like a dead end, turning to Tyla. “Have a look.”
Tyla shifted her head from left to right in search of what Callinora might be referring to. The only thing in any direction was more empty stone walls.
“Sorry. Your room.” The princess gestured to her right. “It’s just through here.” She braced herself against the gray slab, and slowly the outline of a door appeared. As it opened, a flood of firelight bled into the dark corridor.
Tyla let out a low sigh. “Oh, god.”
The room was slightly smaller than the princess’s quarters, but no less remarkable.
Vast canopy bed with that ultra-realistic style of painting with vibrant greenery, bright flowers, and shaded blue skies painted on the headboard.
In the corner, surrounded by red and gold tile, was an enormous standing bathtub overlooking the city.
Instead of a balcony, there was an entire wall made of glass windows in the shape of small silver octagons.
Adjacent to them was a rolling dresser with all manner of dresses for every occasion, fashionable athletic wear for riding and archery, and multiple sets of light armor.
“Thank you, Princess,” Tyla said, bowing slightly. “I’ve never?—”
“Oh shut it,” Callinora begged. “It’s the least I can do.”
“It’s perfect,” Tyla reiterated.
“Then enjoy it.”
Without anything keeping her, Tyla quickly ran to the bed and leapt face first into the cloud-like pillows. The bone-white duvet fluffed around her and created a sort of blockade slowly consuming her. All Ingrid could see was Tyla’s big smile as the stone door closed with a thud.
Callinora brushed her hands together, rubbing off any excess dust. “Alright. Who’s next?”
Raidinn’s quarters were simpler but just as accommodating.
White walls with beige and forest green accents, a large bed that sat high on a light wood frame engraved with a lion’s head at the backboard, and mirrors lining the wall behind it.
Next to the dresser was a cushioned daybed upholstered in shining amber.
And lastly, in the section that clearly piqued Raidinn’s attention, was a training station complete with a wall of weapons and armor in the south corner, where his view of the city sparkled in the fading moonlight.
He bowed silently as the heavy door closed him inside.
Next was Ingrid.
Callinora waited a moment before opening the door, darting her slitted, intense eyes between her and Dean.
“You alright?” Ingrid asked her, genuinely concerned. After consuming more of that shining blue liquid than Ingrid thought was physically possible, it was a wonder she was still standing.
“I’m quite fine.” The princess straightened up, like she was waiting for them to give orders on what to do next. When they didn’t, only stared back in confusion, she reluctantly opened her mouth to clarify, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted separate rooms?”
“Yes, we—” Dean started.
“Separate rooms, please,” Ingrid finished.
“Right.”
The princess braced her back against the wall, just like she’d done with the other two hefty entrances, but Dean stepped forward and politely asked if he could take over.
Callinora abided, rolling her eyes indiscreetly once Dean was facing away from her.
Considering the princess’s current romantic status, it didn’t seem she had any patience for Dean’s silly flirting.
None the wiser, Dean pushed the door open with ease and then gave a semi-serious bow, waiting for Ingrid to pass him before he lifted his head.
“Thank you,” she said, “How kind.” She was slightly embarrassed that Callinora was still watching, but if she was honest with herself, Dean’s drunken chivalry was more than amusing. She couldn’t help giggling as she stepped inside her room.
“How do you like it?’ Dean asked.
“I, uhh, I’m not sure.”
She couldn’t see anything. It was pitch black. Couldn’t even make out her hand as she held it directly in front of her. She tentatively shuffled inside, searching with her arms, but still found only darkness in front of her. It took a few steps until a faint outline of yet another door appeared.
She turned to Callinora. “Are you sure we’re at the right place?”
Callinora took a frustrated step forward. “Oh, how thoughtless of me! Forgot this room comes with a little added security. Go on, simply push through. It’s only a dresser.”
Ingrid walked with her hand out until she could feel the thick wooden door. She labored for a few moments before Dean joined her side, springing the dresser door free.
“Wonderful!” Callinora gave three dull claps of her hands. “What a pair you two make. Now go on. Aren’t you going to look around your room?”
Ingrid took the short leap from the enormous dresser and into her chambers.
Starting from her immediate left, she saw a rolling rack of clothes that seemed to have just been brought in, full of gowns and dresses and all manner of casual wear.
Next to that was a balcony so wide it seemed to stretch out for miles like a parapet hanging over the castle.
And in the corner, by the bed, was a stone fireplace and a library standing ten feet high, just like her hostess’s room at the top of the castle.
“You said you were tired of feeling ignorant,” Callinora said.
“So I had my maids mark a few of the history books and old texts. All in the common tongue, or translations for the older books. Just there. And there. And, well, you’ll see.
” She gestured to the bookcases, where whittled bookmarks poked out from various spots in the shelving, indicating where she might look.
Ingrid didn’t know what to say.
“Come now, Dean,” Callinora said shortly. “Our gallant Knight of Door Opening. Let’s leave Ingrid to her studying."
Dean scratched at his beard, hesitant to leave. “Good?” he asked Ingrid simply.
“Better.”
“That’s what I was hoping to hear.”
“Now get lost,” she murmured, jerking a thumb to the side. “I’ve got work to do.”
It only took a few hours before the floor was littered with books. Stacks of them were piled twelve high at her feet, arranged in a circle she’d inadvertently created, like a wall trapping her in the chair and forcing her to read all night by the fireplace.