Capture the Crown (Gargoyle Queen #1) -Jennifer Estep Page 0,12

mine near Glanzen. The gargoyle had been so grateful to be free of its stone prison that it had vowed to protect Armina and her family for all time.

The cart skated over something on the tracks, loose rocks probably, and the jerking motion made me bump shoulders with Penelope. She tensed again, as did the other miners, but I remained calm and relaxed. I selfishly loved being this deep underground.

Hundreds of miners might be toiling away inside the mountain, but the thick stone walls blocked their thoughts, leaving me in relative blessed silence, certainly far more silence than I ever experienced at Glitnir, with its scores of servants, guards, and nobles roaming the halls, not to mention the gargoyles perched on the rooftops. I didn’t often get such a prolonged, quiet reprieve, and I was going to enjoy every moment, no matter how dangerous the journey and the work itself was.

The driver leaned on the hand brake, the slope flattened out, and the cart rolled to a stop at the bottom of the shaft. Strings of lanterns lined the walls and low ceiling, while the fluorestones inside bathed the area in that familiar pale gray glow, as if someone had bottled up rays of moonlight.

I blinked my eyes several times, helping them adjust to the sudden influx of light, then climbed out of the cart. Penelope showed her map to the mine steward, who directed us to the appropriate section.

We walked through the shaft, following the strings of fluorestone lanterns like they were arrows pointing us toward our destination. The other miners split off and disappeared into different tunnels, but Penelope and I kept moving forward until we reached the end of this shaft.

We were in a different part of the mine than yesterday. This tunnel opened up into a large round chamber that had been chiseled out of the surrounding rock, and the jagged, dome-like shape reminded me of an uneven soap bubble that had somehow been trapped underground. Dozens of fluorestone lanterns had been rigged up in here, and the chamber was actually quite bright, although the light wasn’t warm, like the sun’s rays would have been.

Several miners were already using their pickaxes, rock hammers, and other tools to chisel chunks of tearstone out of the walls. Some of the tearstone seams were a light, bright, starry gray, while other sections were a deep, dark midnight-blue.

To my surprise, the miners were only working on the left side of the chamber. Curious, I headed over to the right. No lanterns were strung up on this side, so I couldn’t tell how far away the opposite wall was, although strangely enough, I could have sworn that a breeze was gusting across my face. I took another cautious step forward, but my foot didn’t meet solid ground, only empty air—

Penelope grabbed my arm and jerked me back. “Careful! That chasm just opened up a few weeks ago.”

I glanced down. The lanterns’ glow made the tearstone shift colors, and the swirls of gray and blue spread out like a rainbow, creating an optical illusion on this side of the chamber. A very dangerous illusion, since I hadn’t noticed that I was about to step off the edge of a chasm. Penelope was right. I needed to be more careful. Mind magier or not, the mountain could kill me as easily as it could anyone else.

I flashed her a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

She nodded and released my arm.

A thought occurred to me. “Wait. Is this how that woman died? You said that one of the forewomen accidentally stepped into a chasm. Her name was Clarissa, right?”

Penelope shivered, even though the chamber wasn’t all that cold. “Yeah. The mountain shifted, maybe because of miners digging in a nearby shaft, and Clarissa was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The chasm opened up right under her feet. It took us two days to recover her body.”

She didn’t trip over the words, and her voice remained smooth and even, but I could still tell that she was lying.

Most people’s lies were small things, more to soothe others’ feelings than to do any true harm. Of course that gown looks lovely on you. I absolutely adore the song you’ve composed for me. No, I don’t know what happened to the last piece of cranberry-apple pie.

Those sorts of lies always felt like tiny stings, like a rambunctious puppy had scratched my hand, but Penelope’s lies were much sharper, as though that puppy had morphed into a greywolf