Palace of Silver (The Nissera Chronicles #3) - Hannah West Page 0,33
want to frighten you.”
“Frighten me?” I chuckled. “I’m an elicromancer. I have little to be afraid of.”
Even as I declared this, I thought of how weak and helpless I’d felt standing in chains before the Realm Alliance, subjugated by that insolent little bitch. No one, no one, was meant to have so much power. And then Valory had the audacity to pretend to be generous for not ripping the elicrin magic from my chest, an act that would have been as ruthless as tearing out my heart.
Instead, they put a probation spell on my elicrin stone. If I tried to call on my power to do anything more than light a fire on a cold night, they would punish me.
My teeth clenched with that steady rage that resided like a living thing inside me, moving under my skin. Sometimes, when I was alone with Myron or walking in the city, I felt almost happy. And then the anger would strike, and I would think of Glisette, who used to be my companion in everything before she sneered at me, at our past, and became so proud of her metamorphosis—and of that hideous scar. So what if we had always been a little vain and a tiny bit selfish? Our redemption was that we loved and defended each other no matter what. Why was she so ashamed of that? Of me?
Because Valory proselytized her, the anger inside me hissed. Sweet and impressionable Perennia got caught up as well, and Devorian is just happy to be in his normal human state and forgiven for his transgressions.
But there was no forgiveness for me. What did I do that every other ruler doesn’t? Raise taxes and tolls? Myron did so twice each year, and his people loved him.
After the carnage in Arna, I should have been grateful Valory didn’t snap me like a stick. But I simply couldn’t muster the gratitude.
“This place serves a unique purpose,” Myron explained, gripping the door latch. I realized I’d been clutching my elicrin stone and released it.
“How so?” I asked, more polite than interested.
“The Edifice of the Holies honors the virtues. But the Edifice of the Fallen reminds us that virtues do not exist in a vacuum—the absence of a virtue is a vice. The room is empty but for a mirror, which invites the visitor to examine his soul and the evils he has committed.” He turned the knob and revealed a dark stone stairway spiraling down. “It is an unsettling place, meant to cause discomfort with oneself.”
“On second thought, I’ll go to the ceremony.”
Myron laughed again. “You don’t have to go anywhere. You can go back to bed if you like. But promise me if you go down there, you’ll remove your elicrin stone.”
“Why?”
“We’re supposed to enter naked and smeared with ashes, for humility’s sake. You are meant to leave all your earthly trappings behind, anything that could obstruct an honest view of yourself.” He gathered my hands. His were always warm. “And, though my people are no longer so prejudiced against elicromancers, I don’t want to give them any reason to think you’re desecrating a holy place.”
“How would they know? Do other people go down there?”
“No. This edifice is ours alone so we can reflect in private. But if you respect our people’s traditions, it will show. They will see.”
“Everyone else goes naked in a public edifice?” I asked doubtfully.
“Many go in rags. Either choice is acceptable.”
The distant roar of music and cheers floated up from the streets. “Speaking of traditions…” I said.
“Right, I should be off. If you go, take a light so you don’t harm yourself.”
After he departed, I turned to stare into the pitch-dark passageway that awaited me.
I rolled my eyes and slammed the door shut, floating toward my vanity set with a sigh. “Show me Perennia,” I said. But when the glass rippled, the other side was dark, just as I expected. My siblings had smashed all of the enchanted mirrors at home except a handheld one, which they kept locked in a dark, quiet room, ignoring me until it suited them. Only Perennia dug it out to visit with me once each week. We weren’t scheduled to speak today.
I groaned and swiped my hand to clear the view in the mirror. My expression was bland, my normally bright eyes spiritless. I was bored of everything, even trying on gowns and jewels—so bored I thought about donning something appropriate and participating in the holiday celebration.