And now Garret had returned.
He smiled to let her know she was staring. With a frown, she turned and studied the river to the south where she and her brother had played as children. She would not give in to the desire to glance behind her to see if Garret was still watching. She was older now than when she’d first felt her breath catch any time he walked into a room—his hair looking like it was on fire. Since then, she’d learned not to be impressed by thick muscles or chests as round as wine barrels. Just because something looked as if it could keep you safe didn’t mean it would.
Still, she could feel him behind her as well as Elder Jacobs, who had warned her not to get too close to the flames or she would get burned. Was he referring to searching out the truth about the ambush or something else?
She rode silently, glad she had taken several sips from the red bottle to help her withstand the journey through the foothills that led to the Shadow Mountains and the majestic Tomb of Light that had been created hundreds of years before. Artisans of the past dug and carved and smoothed the stone, creating an ornate entrance to the resting place of Eden’s rulers. Twenty feet inside the cave stood two large iron doors that Carys’s father had had installed by the Masters of Light. Those doors could only be opened using the power from the windmill that chopped the air directly above the cave. Only the royal family and the head of the Guild of Light knew how to operate the doors. If the castle was attacked and the royal family slaughtered, the secret of the doors would stop the usurpers from desecrating those who had been placed in the light.
Their mother should have operated the doors now, but she just laughed at the idea of getting off her horse and told Andreus and Carys to go without her. Captain Monteros kept all of the mourners back as Carys and Andreus left their mother smiling in the sun while they went into the cave. Andreus walked to the left corner while Carys went to the right. It took only moments for each of them to pry up the correct stones her father showed them years ago.
Underneath her stone was a rectangular hole with wires and a pile of seemingly purposeless stones. It took Carys only a few moments to dig through the rocks and find the small, perfectly clear stone—the key the Masters had created. Carefully, she placed the stone in the space between the metal wires, while on the other side of the tomb entrance her brother did the same. A few seconds later the doors began to move. A light brighter than the sun at midday spilled from inside the cavern. Carys shielded her eyes as the guards carried the caskets inside, so that they might rest in that place, the room always bathed in the white light of virtue.
But by the time the doors to the tomb were once again closed, darkness was starting to fall.
The ride back was faster—which meant it was bumpier. Carys’s still-healing wounds screamed with each bounce. But the screech that came from the mountains—and the answering call that sounded like a rusty gate being opened—made everyone turn and look behind them and had Carys nudging her horse, Nala, to go faster.
The cold season was upon them. The Xhelozi were beginning to awaken.
The sky darkened. Huddled deep in her cloak, trying to ignore the anxiety, Carys felt the desperate craving pulling at her. The procession rode out of the foothills and closer to the plateau where the orb of Eden and the rest of the lights glowed bright and promised safety.
Another screech echoed in the night. Farther away than before, but still terrifying. Carys looked over her shoulder and squinted at the mountains rising through the shadows.
Something moved near the foothills.
The Council and Captain Monteros urged everyone to go faster. The city gates and the safety of the walls were less than a mile away. Just as they reached the main entrance, a horse veered from the front of the group and circled back in the direction of the foothills of the mountains.
“Mother,” Carys yelled as she wheeled her horse through the group of riders. “Mother, stop!”
“My king!” her mother wailed. Her cape billowed as she rode in the direction of certain danger. Behind Carys, Andreus shouted, but he was too far away to catch up. Carys leaned forward, pushing Nala to go faster as she glanced toward the base of the mountains and the shadows moving there. Not all of the Xhelozi would be ready to come out of their hibernation, and only once that Carys could remember did any who awoke this early travel this far from the mountains. But any that did would be hungry.
“Mother,” she screamed. “Stop.”
A horse from the back of the procession thundered away from the group. Her mother’s horse slowed as the black stallion and the man in a dark cloak pounded toward them and Carys was relieved to see him grab the reins.
“Let me go,” her mother called. “I have to go. They want me to go.”
The rider ignored the words and led the Queen and the horse back in the direction of the gates.
“No! I command you,” her mother screamed. “Your queen commands you!”
She kicked at the other rider and caught the horse in its flanks, causing it to rear. The rider held on to his own seat, but lost his grip on Mother, who slid off her horse and began running toward the mountains, yelling, “They’re calling for me. Can’t you hear it? I have to go.”
The Queen stumbled on a rock and pitched forward. Oben reached her and helped her rise.
Blood trickled down Mother’s face as Carys reached her.
“Mother,” Carys said, sliding from her own horse while Oben tried to help his queen stand. “You’re hurt. Let’s get back to the Palace of Winds so Oben can stop the bleeding and get you ready for the coronation.”
Her mother shook her head and pulled against Oben’s grip. “They are waiting.”
“You’re right,” Carys said. “Everyone is waiting for their queen inside the city. Oben, perhaps it would be better if you helped Mother into one of the carts for the rest of the journey?”
Oben nodded.
“No.” Her mother screamed and kicked and tried to bite Oben to force him to release her from his iron grip. But he held fast as he climbed with the Queen into one of the now empty funeral carts. “Didn’t you hear? I have to go.”
“Get her into the city,” Carys commanded the driver. Andreus and Elder Cestrum took up places behind the cart and rumbled toward the gates.