The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,40
many. There are two enormous cooking hearths, each with two massive black pots bubbling, and a bread oven. More pots of various sizes line the walls, though they’re probably rarely used. I’m sure this kitchen hasn’t prepared grand multicourse feasts in quite a long time.
The cooks are sweaty, their shirtsleeves rolled up past the elbow and white caps holding their hair back. One of them frantically scrubs out bowls, stacking them beside him on the butcher block counter to dry. Some of the bowls still have bits of food left in them. The wheeled cart from the dining hall is next to him, full of dirty dishes. Another cook is peeling potatoes, and the other is chopping them. He fills a bowl, runs it to the pot, dumps it all in, then returns to chopping at the table.
The head cook notices Jander and I are waiting for orders, so he grabs a mop from the pantry doorway and hands it to me. “There’s another around here somewhere. The hall needs a good wash. Go to it.”
Jander and I find another mop and pails and begin cleaning the dining hall. The cook wasn’t joking—the floors haven’t been cleaned in a rather long time. The initial swipe of the mop leaves muddy smears, but under those layers of dirt is a gorgeous mosaic tile floor. Were the windows clean, the floors would be glittering in the sunlight. As we uncover more and more of it, I see that the tiles make a giant floral pattern, blue and red blooms with green stems and leaves, against a black background.
I keep cleaning, and as I do, I begin to doubt this whole scheme. What am I doing here? Why am I at Deersia? Am I even helping Caledon or just hurting myself?
I jump back and shout, “Ouch!”
Jander looks at me quizzically. “Just a shock,” I tell him. But that’s not true; it’s the weeping willow at Baer all over again. The feeling of lightning runs up my spine and down my arms. It’s overwhelming, and a bit scary, but curiosity floods me before fear can take hold.
I hunch down and run my finger along the emerald stem of a bright red rose, admiring the tile’s craftsmanship. I get another shock and press my finger against the flower and hold it there. Maybe a vision will give me information, help me find Caledon.
The dining hall, except the dining hall from long ago, wavers into focus. The tiles are brand-new, glossy and perfect, not a scratch or chip anywhere. A blurry figure sits at the head of a grand table set with white cloth and gold dishes. The figure . . . is it human? I take a deep breath in and the image gets clearer. Human, yes. With waist-length silver hair, wearing a long-sleeved, full-length white tunic and an emerald gem around his neck. Violet eyes bore into me with a fiery intensity.
I pull my hand up and the vision disappears. Jander is still mopping the far end of the hall, and everything is dingy and plain again. My mind races. There was something strangely familiar about that figure. Was I imagining that they looked straight into my eyes? When I saw King Esban at Baer, no one there seemed aware of me watching.
I need to know. I’m not sure if I can make the vision return, but I have to try.
So I press both my hands against the floor and close my eyes, willing myself, with every bit of my heart and mind, to return to Deersia’s past again. I want to see. I want to see . . .
It works. In a flash, the entire floor stretches out around me, glistening and new, sparkling in the light coming through the brand-new panes of glass. I’m awed by the beauty of it—a floor, of all things. Though, really, it’s a work of art.
There’s an eerie silence. Almost a void of sound. Then footsteps approach, thunking, echoey. A gust of air blows my hair and I look up—a silver-haired mage with violet eyes gazes down at me. Omin of Oylahn. The founder of Avantine.
I hear a voice in my head. Omin is speaking to me.