Quill of Thieves

Chapter 29

She had never seen a dead body until being stuck atop that watchtower with one strapped to her.

Astrid loathed to admit she had never truly considered death in this blasted Saviour's Tournament of her mother's making. Her connection to the elements had always felt inconsequential at their worst and a mystical drama she loved to star in at best. And though she knew the Purge had been fought over the seven elemental threads, Astrid had never truly associated them with death and destruction before.

Until now.

It made her feel like an absolutely naive idiot.

Whenever she blinked, she saw the disfigured, bloated features; the unnaturally pliable way its limp arms and legs had bent into formation; how she had directed the water element and the cold threads of air to wrap around him, entombing the body in thick ice so she could ride it down a mountain.

Astrid braced a hand against one of the tapestries that hung in the corridor leading to Sebastian's room. Her head dizzied, nausea clawing its way up her throat. The tapestry smelled wooly and musty, scratching her forehead as she took a moment to rest against it. Distractedly, her gaze focused on the small bit of the image before her until a clump of unraveling black threads caught her attention. With a choked breath, Astrid stepped back to observe it.

"Curse the skies," she muttered.

It was a portrait of Goddess Elayn, Mother Earth, the maternal creator of the seven realms. A depiction that was as familiar to Astrid as her own sword. In it, Goddess Elayn emerged from a lake, scarlet hair streaming down her bare back, long white linen wrapping around her chest and torso, trailing over her shoulders and down her legs. Above her lay a blank, dark space meant to symbolize the empty Abyss she had morphed into creation with her words. And in her hand, poised up into that empty place, was a handsome black quill.

Mother Earth's Creation, the artwork was called.

Astrid stared at the sewn image of the quill, her chest clutching her heart so rapidly that she forgot to breathe. The image swam before her. Its black threads raised from their knots, unwinding from their place as if someone had run their fingers multiple times over that spot.

Find it, salveretta. Free us all.

Her hand reached towards it without much conscious thought. The yarn felt like any other normal yarn, thick and woolen, and the hardness of the wall met her touch when she pressed into the portrait. There was nothing there.

"You're acting a fool," she hissed at herself.

To think she acted upon the words of some half-deranged mer-creature that ate decaying human flesh.

There was no way that tasted appetizing.

She shook her aching head and clutched the torn parchment she hid in her pocket instead. It cleared her thoughts enough to push away from the tapestry.

Sebastian's two guards stood at attention outside his double doors. Melvin saluted her upon spotting Astrid as she rounded the corner, but Abel crossed her arms, watching her approach with an unspoken challenge that tightened every line in her young face.

"What do you want?"

Astrid ignored her and strutted up to Melvin with a lackluster swagger. "Let me in," she ordered. Melvin bowed his head in a sign of absolute compliance and moved to the doors, but Abel stepped in front of them as if she alone could block the entrance.

"It's only been two days since you nearly killed him with that avalanche," the bothersome, yet beautiful girl accused. "Don't you think he deserves a few days of peace from you, at least?"