Romeria
Ihalt Eros next to Zander. “Is this place real?”
“If it is not, we are all sharing the same hallucination.” He’s equally mesmerized by the cobblestone bridge that stretches over a river, the water’s surface like blue glass. On the other end, two mammoth stone statues of winged, humanlike forms face each other, creating an archway. But beyond is the real shock, the road leading to a castle of white walls and royal blue spires, with stone-bridge walkways high in the sky, connecting the many towers.
“It will grow dark soon. Should we turn back?” Jarek’s suspicious gaze is on the violet sky and the merging shadows.
Instead of answering, Zander looks toward me, waiting.
He’s letting me decide.
“Not yet.” I can’t say how long the five of us have been exploring this hidden and vacant city, but the thought of turning back for the safety of numbers has never entered my mind. As unsettling as Ulysede leaves me, I don’t feel the same foreboding that Jarek seems to. He’s right, though. It’ll be dark soon.
“Some light?” I gesture toward the lanterns that line the bridge and present a small flame on my fingertip.
With a smirk, Zander draws from the spark with a slight tug.
The city ignites with light, thousands of lanterns twinkling in every direction.
“Impressive.”
But he shakes his head. “That was not me.”
My scalp prickles. If not Zander … who else here could do that?
“Whatever connection to the nymphs that has maintained this city all these millennia must be responding to your power,” Gesine offers, though her forehead wrinkles with uncertainty.
“So?” I nod toward the castle. “Shouldn’t we check it out?”
We lead the pack over the bridge, an energy buzzing in Zander. I sensed it as soon as we passed through the gate—he’s on edge and yet excited. Hopeful.
And why shouldn’t he be?
This morning, he was a fleeing king without a kingdom.
Now one waits for him to claim it.
“What are those?” Elisaf points to the winged creatures as we ride beneath them.
“The nymphs, based on one depiction the seers have seen.”
“One depiction?” His eyes narrow. “And what would the other depictions look like?”
Gesine studies the pointed ears and spiked shoulders. “Not quite as friendly.”
“She calls this friendly,” Jarek mutters, urging his horse up the path.
“It’s as if they built it yesterday.” Zander smooths a fingertip across a bust to test for dust. It comes back clean.
Our footsteps echo as we stroll through the castle’s great hall, past a grand water fountain with another pair of the winged creatures at its center, through elegant room after elegant room, their ceilings painted in murals that will surely tell of Ulysede’s history, when we have time to study them.
“I believe that is a library.” Elisaf points to a room with floor-to-ceiling shelves stacked with books.
“The knowledge that must wait within those walls.” Gesine’s path veers toward it.
“You may spend the balance of your days buried in books if you so choose, after we find the throne room.” Zander eyes the caster. He didn’t trust her wholly before, but he trusts her even less now.
“Of course, Your Highness.” She swerves to rejoin us.