Tale of the Heart Queen (Artefacts of Ouranos #4)

Chapter 12

C HAPTER 12

LOR

A LLUVION —T HE C RYSTAL P ALACE

A fter I’m returned to my room, I pace back and forth, trying to formulate a plan. The ocean roars outside, and it’s almost soothing, but too many things are happening in my head.

I think about what D’Arcy said regarding mate sickness. This has to mean Nadir’s alive, right? It’s the feeblest glimmer of hope, but I’m clinging to this mote of dust with all of my might. I felt him die. I felt his heart stop and his skin grow cold under my touch. But he’s in the Evanescence, and maybe that’s holding the sickness at bay, or maybe, just maybe, I didn’t permanently kill my mate.

Closing my eyes, I try to speak to Nadir, screaming in my head as loud as I can.

Nadir. Are you okay?

Can you hear me? I’m so sorry. Answer me!

But again, I’m met with nothing but silence.

I cry out in frustration, gripping my forehead as I pace back and forth. The image of the Coral sitting in the center of the throne room pulses in my thoughts. I can’t keep dwelling on things I can’t change. What I need to do is find the ark and save my mate. That’s what he needs from me right now, and I can’t fall apart.

So what do I do? Ask to see Cyan again? What would I give for my reason? He won’t believe me if I claim I just want to spend time with him. That would be absurd. Besides, he’s a king and probably has duties to attend to. Then a thought occurs to me. What if the Coral’s caretaker is the key? Maybe he’ll talk to me.

Storming over to the door, I fling it open. My two muscled guards wait outside, all gleaming and sun-kissed, their hands planted on their hips like they mean business.

“Hi,” I say. “How are you?”

“We’re here to keep an eye on you,” one says. Not what I asked, but I guess we’re bypassing the small-talk thing.

“Oh. That’s nice. It’s good to have such strong, handsome guards.” I wink, and the one on the left frowns.

“Is there something in your eye?” he asks.

Right. I suck at flirting.

“What are your names?” I ask .

“I’m North, and this is West.” The first points to his companion.

“Cute.”

That earns me an even deeper scowl.

“Is there something you want?”

I consider the question. How much harm might there be in asking to visit the throne room? I worry it will get back to Cyan, but I don’t see I have any other choice.

“I’d like to go for a walk.”

“We’re to escort you everywhere,” North says. Or maybe it’s West.

“Yeah, I figured that. How about the throne room?”

“Why?”

“Do I need a reason?”

My response earns me another glare.

“I’d love to take a closer look at the Alluvion Coral. It’s very pretty.”

West’s eyebrows draw together, and I twirl a lock of my hair, trying to make it seem like I’m just a silly girl who likes shiny things. They appear to fall for it and, without another word, step back and gesture for me to walk.

We pass through the same wide blue-and-white corridors, my bare soles slapping the tile. Somehow, my escorts walk silently and not like they have flippers attached to their feet.

We enter the throne room, and I suck in a breath of relief to find Bain still peering through the glass, staring up at the Coral. West and North take up positions against the wall and I give them a little wave before I approach. Busy scribbling something into his notebook, he doesn’t notice until I’m nearly upon him.

Bain regards me with surprise. I wonder if he recognizes me from earlier. He has the same dark blue eyes common around here, with silvery blue hair cropped around his pointed ears. He also has the same pale, almost blue skin as Cyan.

“Hi,” I say, attempting to snatch a peek at what he’s writing.

“Hello luv,” he says. “Have you come to pay your respects to Coral?”

Sure. Respects.

“Oh, totally,” I say. “It’s . . . great.”

He nods with a beaming smile. “She. She’s truly a magnificent being.”

“She?” I ask. I’ve never heard a gender ascribed to any of the Artefacts. I guess most people don’t know the spirits of the former kings and queens of Ouranos inhabit them.

“Oh, I’ve always imagined her as a woman with all those curves and lithe limbs,” he says, clutching his book to his chest.

That’s . . . a very strange thing to say.

“Don’t you agree?” he asks, looking at me expectantly.

“Sure,” I agree, because why not? “Very . . . ladylike.”

He nods and then proceeds to continue writing.

“What’s in the notebook?”

“Oh, these are my recordings of her form,” he says. “She’s a living thing. She shifts and changes in the water, growing new branches while others break off. It’s all part of her life cycle and what makes her so special.”

It’s like he’s in love with the thing. I watch as he stares up at Coral with adoration .

Maybe I can use this to my advantage.

North and West stand against the wall on the far side of the room, vigilant but giving me space. They probably wish I’d return to my room, but I guess they’re stuck babysitting me no matter where I am.

“Your name is Bain, right?”

“It is.”

“I’m Lor,” I say, pressing my hand against the glass. “She does seem very special. But maybe not as special as the Mirror.”

“The Mirror,” Bain sputters. “That hideous thing? It’s all flash and artifice. No, my Coral here is an organic creation of sublime beauty.”

“ Your Coral?”

He smiles and nods. “My Coral.”

“Have you . . . ever spoken to her?” I ask.

His eyes widen before his face turns sad. “Alas, I am not the king, and she will not speak to me.”

“That’s a shame,” I say as I wander towards the other side of the tank, out of North and West’s view, hoping Bain will follow. When he does, I weigh the odds of revealing my hand. I turn around to face him and then crook a finger. “I have a secret about the Artefacts. About Coral.”

Like a fish being reeled in on a line, he approaches me.

“What is it?”

I stretch onto my tiptoes and make a show of whispering in his ear. “They talk to me.”

He gives me a skeptical look. I can tell he doesn’t want to believe me, though he desperately wants it to be true.

“They do? ”

I nod and then once again place my hand on the glass, dragging my fingers as I continue my way around the circumference.

“Could you speak with Coral?” he asks.

“I think I could,” I say in a coy voice. “But I’d need to touch her.”

Bain looks at me and then at the Artefact. “No one but me and the king are allowed to touch her.”

“Why are you permitted to do so?”

“To clean and polish her,” he said. “Otherwise, she loses her shine.”

“Who are you?” I ask, wondering why Cyan has entrusted Bain with this task.

“I’m the king’s father,” he says, surprising me, though it does explain Cyan’s earlier bow of reverence.

“You weren’t the king?”

“Oh no, that was my brother. I don’t have the right constitution for ruling. Coral chose Cyan to follow him.”

“And he lets you clean Coral?” I ask, feeling terrible for how I’m about to take advantage of this poor man’s delusions.

“Yes,” he says proudly.

“How do you do it? Do you get in the water?”

“Sometimes,” he says. “But that doesn’t get her as clean as I like. There’s a mechanism that drains the tank so I can do the job right.”

Perfect.

“Can I do that?” I ask, and Bain shakes his head.

“Oh no. That is forbidden. Only I’m sanctioned as her caretaker.”

I drag in a breath, hating that I’m doing this .

“But you wanted to hear what she has to say, right?”

His eyes widen, and he whispers, “I do.”

“So help me, and I’ll talk to her for you.”

He looks behind him, but no one is within earshot. West and North remain on the far side of the tank, where I can make out their blurred, watery forms through the glass.

“We’d have to do it at night when no one else is around,” Bain says, lowering his voice.

“Okay—tonight. I’ll meet you here at midnight.”

His eyes flick to Coral and then back to me. I reach out and grab his wrist. “I can give her any message you want.”

“You really can talk to her?” he asks.

“I can. I’ve already spoken with the Mirror, the Torch, and the Staff.” I expect him to ask me what they said, and I’m already trying to think of a lie, but it’s clear he only has eyes for Coral because he brushes past it.

He touches the glass and then peers down at me, hope swirling in his eyes.

“I can’t tonight,” he says, and I’m about to argue when he adds, “But tomorrow. Midnight.”

Slowly, I blow out a breath and nod. That’s another day lost, but I’m already pushing my luck.

“See you then,” I say, and then approach North and West, asking to be returned to my room. I say nothing to my escorts as I slam the door on their faces.

Immediately, I proceed across the room and exit onto the balcony. It dangles over a cliff, the churning ocean below filled with an inconvenient array of sharp, jagged rocks. This was obviously intentional. I peer over the edge, wondering if I could survive the drop. I’m not sure what I’m capable of now that I’m in my High Fae form.

Leaning out as far as I can, I scan the side of the palace. I’m about four stories up from where Coral’s massive tank juts out from the back of the castle.

How do I get down there without anyone noticing me?

The wind blows my hair, and I stare out at the water. There’s nothing but ocean and sky stretching in front of me. If I lean forward, I can see the city of Alluvion to the north. Even from this distance, I can make out a path of destruction along the coastline—smashed city walls, piles of debris littering the beach, dead sea life, and plants. I remember the conversation I overheard in Aphelion about this. More evidence of the magic’s loss of control.

I stare at my hand, considering my own magic. If things go sideways in the throne room tomorrow, I might need to use it for a quick escape. But the idea of killing innocent people makes cold sweat break out on my forehead. I don’t want to fear my magic, and I need it, but I killed the most important person in my world with it.

Scanning the horizon, I hold my hand over the water and concentrate on filtering out a small bit of magic. It buzzes under my skin, wrapping around my fingers and up my arm. With my breath held, I attempt to direct it towards the rocks below, but it takes only a moment before my control slips and magic slams out of me, filling the sky with a flickering curtain of crimson lightning.

It’s so vast it engulfs the horizon, stretching across my vision. It flows out of me in a rush, pulling on my veins like they’ll tear straight out of my skin. I scream as it gushes from my hand, an inferno, a raging torrent. I try to call it back, but it’s stronger than me. A loud crash draws my attention as a portion of the cliff below starts to crack.

It’s enough to shock my magic, cutting it off abruptly as the cliff pops apart and a giant piece cleaves off. I watch it dive in slow motion, crashing into the sea, water droplets splashing high enough to reach where I stand.

It takes a moment for the chaos to settle, and when it does, I stand waiting, wondering if anyone noticed. When the door to my room remains shut, I breathe a sigh of relief. Hopefully, the sound of the waves and the wind covered that up. And no one saw the entire sky turn red. My magic seems to be getting stronger since I left Aphelion, and I need to be more careful.

If I get caught tomorrow, I’ll have to decide if I want to risk using it.

Heading inside, I search my room for something I can use to access the throne room.

“Aha!” I cry out when I open a closet full of linens. It’s not a great plan, but it’s not the worst. I heave the lot out and dump them on the ground.

Immediately, I set to work ripping them up, attempting to be as quiet as possible. I begin tying them together to start forming a rope. Over the next several hours, whenever a knock signals a meal delivery, I leap up to answer it after shoving the evidence of my escape under the bed.

By noon on the following day, I’ve assembled a rope that I hope is long enough to serve my purpose. Another knock comes at my door .

“We have lunch for you,” comes a deep male voice. I look around at the disaster that surrounds me.

“I’m not hungry,” I call as my stomach grumbles. I don’t want to open that door. There’s too much to hide now—tiny threads and fibers cling to my hair and clothes, as well as the carpet and furniture. “Actually, I’m not feeling well. Please see to it that no one disturbs me until morning.”

“Very well,” North or West says.

If everything goes as planned, I’ll be long gone with the ark by the time the sun rises. Tonight, I’ll talk to Coral and get Nadir back. If she doesn’t know where the ark is then I’ll be almost out of time and back to square one.

I can’t let that happen.

She has to know.