I think of the statue, of the first queen who made the redwood throne and helped make the Fade. If only I had her journal—or the journals of those who came after. Perhaps I’d be able to piece together the final part of this grand picture I’m missing.
Then, an idea strikes me.
A knight is posted at my door. I vaguely recognize him from the legion that came to collect me from Capton. Rinni has been pulling people from her core squadron to guard me whenever she cannot due to duty or necessity—like sleep.
The man startles at my presence, but dips his head.
“I’m going for a walk,” I declare. “Hook, stay here and guard the room.” The wolf obliges and the guard follows behind me as I lead us to a large hall occupied by ghosts.
I stare at the tarps placed over every piece of furniture purchased by the past queens. Someday, my desk, my chair, the small table, and the settee Eldas slept on will be neatly stacked in here and covered like forgotten tombstones. Moonlight streams through the high windows of the ballroom. Where the light lands is washed bone white. Where it doesn’t is shrouded in an eerie gray.
The knight stands at the entrance as I wander into the maze of furniture. Around halfway through, I grab a fistful of fabric, yanking it off. Dust rises in a plume and I cough.
The glittering motes settle back on the couch, shimmering in the moonlight, almost like the frost of elf magic.
I discard the tarp on the floor and keep moving back. It’s as if I’m revealing these forgotten queens once more to the world. They sacrificed too much to be pushed into a corner of the castle and a lone shelf in the laboratory. I find desks, dining tables, sofas of all shapes and sizes. The fashions change from the utilitarian style the cabinetmaker crafted for me to more ornate, gilded swirls. I walk back through time as told by the changing design sense of Quinnar.
Dusty confetti rains around me as I yank at the tarps. I finally make it to the back of the room, where a final piece is pushed against the far wall. If there’s any lingering old journals of the first five queens, this is the last place I could think to look for them. A line of fabric litters the floor behind me, furniture exposed. Taking tarp in both fists, I pull and expose a long writing desk.
A loud creaking fills the air. The desk groans as if the tarp was the only thing holding the time-worn and worm-eaten wood together. With a snap, the wood comes apart and the whole piece comes crashing down.
Jumping back and coughing, I try and avoid the bugs that scuttle out, dashing across the floor. As the sawdust settles, I look at the pile of broken wood and splinters.
“Sorry.” I’m not sure if I’m apologizing to the once desk, or the memory of the queen. A wave of sorrow passes through me, as if this desk was the last thing holding her presence to this world. “I wonder whom you belonged to,” I murmur.
This far back, it must’ve been a very early queen, pushed away and forgotten by time. I don’t know what I was hoping for. Anything that survived her would be little more than sawdust by now.
Crouching down, I pick through the wood, trying to find some signifier of which queen it may have belonged to. Though I know the mission is futile. Or, at least, I think it is, until the moonlight glints off a small metal box in the framework of what once was a drawer.
“What’re you?”
Lifting the box from the wreckage, I open it with delicate fingers. There’s a small journal inside next to a necklace. I inspect the necklace first.
Wrapped in silver filigree is a shining black stone. Or I think it’s a stone at first because of how brightly polished it is. When my fingers smooth over the pendant, I find it warm to the touch. Wood. A dense, black wood, polished and carefully set as a pendant on a silver chain.
Magic lives in it. Memories make my mind tingle and the back of my head itch as the power dances underneath my fingertips—a glimpse of woman and then I’m buried. I’ve seen these memories before, haven’t I? There’s a hazy, uncomfortable quality to the thoughts evoked by the pendant. I quickly put it down and pick up the