The Promised Queen (Forgotten Empires #3)- Jeffe Kennedy Page 0,71
around, making a harmony with the endlessly tinkling fall of water.
13
I’d been past the waterfall to the inner temple any number of times, but never down the passage Mother led us through. The path sloped down, going in spirals that tunneled ever deeper. Formed initially of smooth polished stone, the tunnel had no moss, as we’d left sunlight far behind. After a while, the stone began to look more organic, with ripples that seemed to pulse rhythmically. Though I’d always understood Calanthe was both an island and a living being, depending upon which reality you viewed Her from, the feeling that we moved through the veins—or intestines—of some enormous creature was unsettling.
It’s fucking creepy, Con’s voice said in my mind, making me smile. Would he and Sondra drink from the water and see their truths? I put my wager that they would, if only because neither of them could stomach backing down from a challenge.
Ambrose walked beside me, dragging the bad leg and leaning heavily on his staff. He managed to keep up, though Mother never slowed her pace.
“Does your leg pain you?” I asked him, wishing I could offer assistance, though I didn’t know what I could do.
“Not pain, exactly,” he replied. “All that truth has made it more difficult to ignore the weight dragging at it.”
“Weight?” I recalled what Mother had said, about Ambrose existing in several realities at once. That certainly explained how he looked different to me, depending on what kind of vision I used—and perhaps on his own magic. I focused on the leg, looking for magic or trying to see through to another layer. It changed with each lens of attention—sometimes looking like a young man’s healthy leg, sometimes withered to skin and ligaments, sometimes … What was that? It seemed to be dark as iron, and massive. A manacle and chain?
Ambrose watched me, his canny green eyes in a young man’s face bright with interest. “Did You see it?”
“Are you … chained, in some other place?” I felt a bit absurd guessing it, but his face lit with pleasure, as if a prized pupil had solved a difficult problem.
“Indeed I am. For quite some time, I’m afraid.”
“Who is holding you captive?” I asked, wondering at the might of that wizard.
“It’s my own doing,” Ambrose replied ruefully. “And not easily undone.”
“So you are shackled in a prison in some other reality, but able to move around freely in this one?”
“Not exactly freely, as You observe. The restrictions that bind me govern me in a number of ways.”
I considered that. “You’re not able to speak of it, unless someone asks you questions.”
He tipped his finger to his temple in a salute. “And even then I must be careful what I say, lest I alert those who would be … distressed to learn how I’ve eluded certain restraints.”
“Can you be freed?”
He grimaced. “That remains to be seen.”
Hmm. “Is there a place in this world that corresponds physically to where you are chained?”
Brightening, he nodded. “An excellent question, Your Highness. Very clever.”
“I assume it will do no good to ask where.”
“There are clues,” he suggested.
“Not helpful, Ambrose.” Then I laughed, imagining Con’s frustration if he heard this conversation. “Is it important for Me to know?”
He mulled that over. “It might well be. It depends.”
“You must leave the riddle for the moment,” Mother said without looking back at us. “As we have arrived and Your Highness has a more immediate problem to solve.”
I looked around, perplexed. We seemed to be in yet another bend in the tunnel, not anywhere in particular. I thought of Con sardonically expressing disappointment at the lack of fantastic elements at the cave entrance to the temple, and had to admit to a similar feeling. “Right here?” I clarified.
Mother glanced around. “This isn’t good enough for You, Queen Euthalia?”
“I don’t mean to seem that way. I’d just expected…” something that would give me more of a clue as to what I should do. I turned to Ambrose. “Do you sense Merle here?”
“Here and not here,” he answered, looking as perplexed as I felt. “Perhaps Your Highness should open a door? Or a window would do,” he added helpfully.
I tried looking with different levels of vision, seeing only the tunnel encircling us. Mother watched expectantly. I was missing something …
Oh. I’d been so determinedly walling out Calanthe’s raging that it had become a reflex. Even now, knowing I must, I hesitated, afraid to make contact with the monster in myself. So much for truth.