Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Happy to. Except, “Will you get in trouble for this little midnight excursion?”
“With the Guardian at the gate, fighting off the rebels, I’m currently the highest ranked among us.” He kissed me once more, a swift peck I welcomed. “No one will gainsay me. Plus, I haven’t been ordered to stay away. In fact, I was dismissed from the frontlines with orders to protect and serve you, however you request. I was told you demanded my presence.”
And the Guardian acquiesced, despite the danger outside. Good of him. I wondered how he would react to my newfound dream of tweaking kingdom laws. Welcome my ideas or go to war with me?
Jasher winked and led me out of the room. There were no longer any guards posted in the hallway. Guess they were dealing with Patch.
An ache cut through me. “How long were you at my door before I screamed?”
“Less than an hour.”
We navigated the halls, taking a left here, a right there, venturing down staircase after staircase. The abundance of space and wealth proved staggering. White columns decorated with hand-carved flowers. Breathtaking vases on display. Diamond encrusted side tables. Golden sconces embedded with emeralds, rubies, and sapphires. Paintings, as well as marble, bronze and alabaster busts of the Guardian. Judging by the sheer number of depictions, he might be a wee bit self-absorbed.
We came across no soldiers. Everyone asleep? Out on patrol? And yet, even though we were alone, I felt as if I were being watched. The same sensation I’d experienced when Nugget and the pegacorns followed me through the forest. Had one or all come after me, despite our goodbye? If anyone harmed them…
“What’s wrong?” Jasher demanded, glancing at me over his shoulder.
“I might sense Nugget or the pegacorns.” Or the birds? But I looked here and there and spotted nothing suspicious.
“If any of the three are here, I’ll make sure they remain safe. You have my word.”
Relief bombarded me. “Thank you.”
Finally, we reached the catacombs. Wide tunnels with arched, open pathways. A crumbling stone wall created a dead-end and featured a mural with woman and a closed, knob-less door bracketed by two genuine torches. Light danced with shadows, flickering over the colorful space. It was obvious attempts had been made to open the entrance. Scratches and dents abounded, with sections of rock scattered over the floor along with layers of dust.
I closed in, eager to examine the details. Oh! A true-to-life self-portrait! In it, Sandra—Queen Sandrine—wore golden armor and stood bathed in flames. Wait. My eyes widened. The flames bore King Ahav’s likeness. Even his crown was detectible. He appeared translucent, outlined by the inferno and superimposed over the queen. Except, as torch light glowed over the paint and I altered my angle of sight, the queen became…
I gasped. The queen morphed into me. Moriah.
What—how—what? I looked. Looked again. We’d always resembled each other, but we weren’t exact copies. Not even close. Painted Moriah held the sword in one hand. With the other, she reached out, motioning to the door, revealing her palm to the viewer.
“From reports, I know attempts to demolish the entire wall have failed,” Jasher told me.
Demolish this amazing artwork? No. That, I vowed to prevent. I gave the door a more thorough examination. But again and again, my attention returned to, well, myself. If my mother had painted the adult daughter she hadn’t yet birthed, that meant she’d had an inkling of the future or she’d returned to Hakeldama when she disappeared from Kansas, hoping I might follow her and one day stand in this spot.
The queen would have wanted her own flesh and blood to enter, yes? Would have forged a way. Maybe a path only I could access.
My focus settled on the outstretched palm. Hey! The ring. The forever key.
Key. Lock…
With the ring banded around my index finger, I reached out to fit my trembling hand against the painted one. A perfect fit. Heat sparked from the metal, fueling hope. When the grind of turning gears registered, I stumbled back, grinning.
Jasher thrust me behind him, acting as my shield. He unsheathed a dagger. I rose to my tiptoes to peek over his broad shoulder, watching in amazement as the door slid backward and to the side, creating an opening. A musty scent coated the air.
“You did it,” he breathed, and kissed my temple.
I pressed a hand to my belly. “What do you think is inside?”
“We’ll find out. I’ll go in first and make sure everything is safe.”
“Give me a dagger. We do this together.” I didn’t wait for his agreement but confiscated a spare blade strapped to his body and stepped to his side. “Okay. I’m ready.”
He heaved a sigh and grabbed a torch. We stepped forward, entering the shadows. As light chased away darkness, I braced, waiting for the big reveal.
Hmm. An armory. Shelves encased in glass covered the walls, each filled with gold armor, swords, spears, bows and arrows, daggers, shields, plus many other items I couldn’t identify. No matter what the pieces were, they were the finest I’d ever beheld, obviously made with expert hands. And there, in the center of it all, was a podium, within another glass case, with a clear vase containing rings exactly like the one I wore.