The Hunter and the Mage (The Raven and the Dove #2) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,79

sure what he was doing. The only time he'd ever traveled to another house had been for the courtship trials, and he'd been so concerned with hiding his face, he'd let his mother do the speaking. "And I come with the blessing of your king and queen."

At his words, the two owls stood and turned, signaling to a spot behind them. "Welcome to the House of Wisdom, Prince Lysander. We've been expecting you and your guests. Please, follow us, and we'll show you to your rooms. The king extends an invitation to dinner if you're not too tired from your travels."

"Please tell the king I accept, and I'd like to bring a guest, if I may." He felt Cassi's eyes on him then. This time, it was Xander who refused to glance her way.

"Of course. Now, if you will…"

They spread their wings, kicking up snow and dirt as they rose into the sky. Xander and his flock followed. With the ground a patchwork of ice and rock, he didn't see the opening until they were almost flying through it, a simple hole carved into the side of a cliff, dark in the shadows stretching across the land. The inside was lit by lanterns, the golden glow guiding them farther underground. As they sank deeper and deeper, the air turned moist and warm, leaving the wintery world above nothing but a memory. When the tunnel opened into a wide cavern, Xander gasped.

A city twice the size of Pylaeon nestled in the center of the vast hollow, glowing amber in the darkness. Along the ground, buildings wound like rivers through the stones. In the center sat a castle, its walls smooth and polished, with no decoration aside from the subtle layers of sediment, markings drawn by time. What caught his eye the most, though, were the broad columns stretching back and back and back, like godly arms holding the ceiling aloft. Staircases coiled around the outsides, carved into the stone. At various levels, they flattened to platforms containing doors. The library, he realized, catching the quick flash of book spines. The longer he stared, the more hidden alcoves he spotted, a network of rooms and halls only one born to this place would ever understand. Clearly, they did. Owls flew in every direction, paying their visitors no mind, simply going about their business. The constant flutter of wings echoed off the walls, a comforting hum that surrounded him like a warm embrace, the scent in his nose one of crinkled pages and undiscovered stories.

This was Rynthos, the Secret City, in all its glory, and the sight left Xander speechless.

In all my dreams, I never could have imagined this.

Cassi smiled suddenly, as though hearing his thought. A silent understanding passed between them, like a shared memory, drawing up images of blue trees and green skies and castles in the deepest corners of the sea.

Xander shook his head.

Stop being a fool.

It had been a dream—a figment of his imagination. They couldn't reminisce about an experience they'd never had, an experience that existed solely inside his mind, no matter how real or vivid it might have felt.

He hastened to follow as their guides continued deeper into the city, his wonderment providing an easy distraction. The guest accommodations were housed inside the castle, a place of twisting halls and dancing shadows, of stillness and seams. Owls were nocturnal creatures who thrived in dark corners and quiet. It took all Xander had not to trip over his feet as they traversed the barely lit building. His footsteps were loud in the underground calm, with no winds or rustling leaves or rushing water to cover the noise, just the steady hum of wings trickling in through the occasional window.

The first thing he did when he reached his room was ignite every wick he could find. He wanted to collapse onto the bed. He wanted to stand at the window and stare unabashedly at the mysterious city resting outside. He wanted to jump through the opening, soar through the first open door he could find, and spend the rest of the night lost within the pages of a book.

He did none of those things.

Instead, he washed his face in the basin provided, changed out of his traveling clothes, and switched into a velvet jacket, leather trousers, and polished boots. Every inch of his body was as black as his wings, except for his uncovered face and the silvery guards molded to his arms. The chance for danger was low,