The monastery loomed in front of them, a massive stone structure that seemed like it had erupted from the mountain itself. The portico was tall columns and shadowed stripes as they approached, the sun ready to sink behind the mountain at their backs.
The heavy doors stood open, and Kalen was the first to step through the entranceway and into a small room with arched doorways on either side. Through an opening at the back of the building, he caught a view of the thin columns and darkened lawn of the cloister beyond. Cirrus scooted closer to Luna as they entered the dimly lit quarters. Sconces flickered along the walls, but a heavy blanket of dreariness and cold settled over the trio.
A lone brother stood near a desk; he lifted his head slowly and peered at them. “May I help you?”
“We were hoping to find lodging here, Brother,” Kalen said.
The man blinked and then slowly appraised Luna, as if debating allowing her access. He appeared to have all the time in the world. “Two rooms remain vacant. How many would you need?”
“Two would be perfect,” Kalen said.
The brother led them down a narrow hallway to the left. After a sharp turn, they entered the chilled and damp dormitory hall. The sconces here were hardly functional, providing very little light outside the small circle around the flame.
Most of the doors were shut, but two at the end remained open. “Here we are,” the brother said. “Meals are in the refectory, and a bath can be brought to you for a charge.”
“Yes please!” Luna didn’t even wait for a response.
They thanked the brother and entered the rooms. Kalen and Cirrus took the first one. Inside, the furnishings and decor were as barren as one would expect: two small beds, two trunks, one round table, and one shelf holding a bowl and folded gray towels. Luna popped her head into their room a couple of seconds later. “Window glass is loose. You can remove it quickly and climb out in an emergency.”
“Thanks,” Kalen said. “While you enjoy a bath, I’m going to go search for the catacombs I saw in the monk’s memory.”
“I’ll join you,” Cirrus said, but Kalen shook his head. “With your issues with the dark, I’d rather you stay here for now. Unless you’d like some assistance in dealing with those fears?”
“You’re not going into my head again.”
“Not even if it might help? Perhaps there’s something else locked away in your memories … an event occurred that you refuse to recall. If I could find it and unlock it, we could face this aversion and conquer it.”
Cirrus shrugged. “I’m good. You go exploring; I’ll take a nap and rest my arm.”
“And take a bath,” Luna said. “You could really use one.”
Kalen bid them warm bathing and walked down the hallway to where he had seen a staircase. The steps were wooden planks that led to a landing. They turned the corner, and the steps became natural stone cuts. Some were wide, some dropped farther than others, but all of them were uneven. His footsteps echoed off the rock walls as he approached the bottom floor, where a locked door cut into a side wall. Kalen hoped it led to the underground cemetery. He palmed the key around his neck with one hand while he dug his picks out of his jacket pocket with the other. The stone was cold against his knees as he knelt and began to work on the lock. It seemed new, made of solid silver, and slid open quickly. He tucked away his tools and rose to a stand. The door was heavy and thicker than a simple wooden door. The inside edge was coated in a thick bronze metal, and etchings bordered the door as he walked through it.
Behind the door was a tunnel lined with flickerfly sconces. He followed it, drawn by something he couldn’t quite explain, twisting through the tunnels, not knowing if he dove deeper into the mountain or back toward the town. He passed through the occasional room with crypts opening up on either side, but he kept moving forward, almost tripping in his haste.
Time had stalled and he debated stopping. Only one more archway and he would call it a day. He entered a large space and halted. He took it in, the reality of it in some ways clearer and in other ways dimmer than in Gabriel’s memories. The cavernous room was supported with columns at regular intervals, and a skylight let in the early evening rays.
Unlike Gabriel’s memory, there was no singing. No sound at all.
He walked past the skylight and into a narrow tunnel that led off to the side. A breeze whipped through the hallway, as if it came in through the cracks in the walls. It tugged at his hair, at the hem of his cloak, and he followed it to see where it led.
The tunnel ended, and he entered another wing with high ceilings and multiple skylights down its length. Archways on either side led to small crypts filled with ornate headstones and stone coffins. He peered into each of the crypts but saw nothing.
He began to wonder if Gabriel had been hallucinating in his memory. There was no evidence at all that Reign had ever been in these catacombs. Perhaps she didn’t exist. Perhaps this journey had been for naught.
He reached the last doorway and peered inside. The room was dark, lit with three scattered flickerfly lamps along the floor against the side wall. A lone coffin, stone and tiny, sat in the center of the room. The headstone was broken, but he imagined the date range would have been a short one. He ground his teeth together and looked past the coffin.
Scraps of fabric, in varying faded shades, lay scattered along the floor. A book rested open near the wall, the pages yellowed and brittle-looking. A chipped pitcher of water sat next to what looked like a plate filled with crumbs.
Could these have belonged to Reign? Could she have lived here?
He peered at the book, an old edition of children’s tales. The fabric looked like what the girl had worn in Gabriel’s memories.
There was no way to tell how long the items had been left here. It could have been days; it could have been years. Most likely somewhere in between. And if Reign had made it out, there was no way she would return.
Which left Jules’s artisan contact as his next hope. The amulet’s power to project emotions was so very similar to Reign’s ability that they had to be related.
JULES WRAPPED HERSELF in a fur overcoat and locked the door to the apothecary shop behind her. “He agreed to meet at a tavern across town. I’ll make the introduction, and then I must be getting home.”
The street stretched in front of them, the shops all still open, windows brightly lit but doors shut against the cold. Tall wooden posts lined the edge of the cliff drop-off. Atop each sat a large, bright bulb filled with flickerflies. Smaller bulbs were strung on wire to crisscross over the lane where the darkness seemed to sheer off into an abyss.
Jules directed them into a doorway set away from the street. A sticky warmth immediately settled over Kalen. The room was stifling with body heat and the flame from the hearth. He slid his cloak off and draped it over the back of a chair as they settled in at a table in the far corner to wait. Cirrus ordered ale for him and Luna, and a cup of tea for Kalen. Jules declined his offer.
The drinks were arranged on the table when suddenly a thin, tall, fair-haired man stood behind Jules. Kalen recognized him as the man in Gabriel’s vision.
She made introductions.
“Nero, these are the people I spoke of.”
“Can we get you a drink?” Cirrus reached for the pitcher with his good hand, but Nero shook his head.
“I’m fine, thank you.” His watery eyes were hooded as he took in the seating arrangement.
Kalen scooted his chair to the side to make room. Nero grabbed an empty chair from the table nearby and slid it over. “So Jules said you would like to commission me to make a jewel?”
“We are considering it,” Kalen said. “I was wondering if you could tell me more about the process. How quickly could we purchase one?”
Nero leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
Cirrus took a sip from his mug. “We have the money.”
“It’s not about the money. I am not divulging information. It takes a certain type of talent—”
He was cut off when the door burst open and a chest-heaving giant of a man burst in. “Jules? Is Jules here?” His eyes landed on the table. “Kristoph is on the ledge. He’s raving.”
Jules leaped up and raced after the giant. The entire tavern seemed to swell and move to follow them.
Nero’s eyes narrowed, and he rose from the table. “I must attend to something. Let’s reconvene tomorrow, shall we?” With that he slipped out through the kitchen.
The trio glanced at one another and at the two different doors.
“I’m on it.” Luna rose and followed Nero.
Kalen and Cirrus pushed their way through the crowd to the street. The temperature felt like it had dropped another twenty degrees, and Kalen tightened his cloak. A crowd had gathered near one of the posts.
“Step back!” someone yelled. “Let Jules through.”
The group retreated only slightly. Nobody wanted to give up prime viewing of the unfolding drama. Through a slight gap, Kalen made out a figure standing at the edge of the cliff. He had his back turned toward everyone, his head tipped, and he mumbled to himself. Jules approached.
“Get away.” He clenched and unclenched his hands. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He glared at the crowd and yelled it again.
“Who is he?” Kalen asked a young woman standing on the fringes of the crowd.
“Kristoph works at the stables. A horseshoer by trade.”
“Any reason you can think of why he’d be acting this way?”
She shook her head. “Usually he’s the happiest person in the city. Loves his job. His wife is pregnant. This is unlike him.”
“I’d like to take a look at his memories,” Kalen muttered to Cirrus. He wanted to know exactly what had happened.
A gust whipped up from the canyon and tugged at the knit cap Kristoph wore on his head. His arms reached out unsteadily to the sides.
“Kristoph, move toward me.” Jules motioned him toward safety.
Kristoph blinked in her direction. He glanced over his shoulder and lurched forward as if he hadn’t realized how close to the edge he had backed himself.
She held out a hand, and he grasped it.
“What am I doing here?” he asked.
Jules tucked his hand against her side and made her way through the crowd. “I’m not sure, but you’re safe now.”
He looked behind him again.
“Can we buy you a drink?” Kalen approached Jules and Kristoph as they walked nearer. “Cider will warm you quickly, I’m sure.”
Kristoph took a deep breath and tore his cap off his head. He glanced at Kalen and then Cirrus. “Foreigners, ay?”
They nodded.
“I met them earlier today,” Jules said, tilting her head in thanks at Kalen for the distraction.
“Why not? Anywhere but there—” Kristoph’s eyes cut to the inn a few doors down. Brightly lit windows showcased patrons dining on food.
Kalen slipped off his glove and reached out to put his arm around the large man as they walked toward the tavern door. He knew the second he touched Kristoph’s skin he’d dive into his thoughts, and the recent memories would be readily available, nowhere near enough time to be locked away. He only needed a few seconds, and it was easier to do it with a quick contact than to ask for permission.
Kristoph wouldn’t even know what had happened.
Bare fingers brushed the back of Kristoph’s neck, and Kalen’s mind latched on. Kristoph was seated at a table at the inn, telling his friends his fears of taking care of his family when the baby was born. Suddenly anger blanketed his every thought. How did this happen? Now I’m stuck in Servaille forever. I will never make enough money to support the family, and it’s all her fault.
Kristoph rose from the chair and walked out, barely glancing at two girls arguing at the counter. One of the girls had her hands fisted at her sides, and her chest shuddered as if she forced deep breaths. Auburn hair plaited into a loose braid, freckles dusting pale skin, a loose wool sweater draping low to show jutting collarbones—
Kalen tumbled out of his thoughts as Kristoph sped ahead to walk single file through the door. Pinpricks needled into Kalen’s forehead as the sights and sounds came into focus, but he hardly even felt the pain.
Reign.
She looked drastically different from the vision in the catacombs. Chaos and melancholy versus order and anger. It was absolutely the same girl, though, and she was even more stunning now than in Gabriel’s memory. Her face had filled in a little, and she had a healthier glow to her skin. Her hair looked soft, even pulled into the braid.
And she was here.
Kalen turned to Cirrus. “I’ll be right back.” He was sure he looked panicked, like he was out of his mind, but he had to go. Now. “Buy Kristoph here a drink and keep him company.”
And he took off at a sprint toward the inn.
He shoved his hand into his glove as he ran, his only focus on the wooden sign that hung from the awning: SNOWBOUND INN. He shoved at the door that led directly into the dining area, stumbling into a room heavy with the warmth from the hearth and deep conversations as the evening neared its end.
Eyes darting to and fro, Kalen searched for Reign, but she was nowhere to be seen.
He grabbed at a serving girl as she passed by. “Excuse me, I’m looking for someone. Auburn hair, freckles—”
“Reign.”
“Yes, Reign.”
The girl sneered. “She’s gone to cope is my guess. She’ll be back for the morning shift, I’m sure. Or maybe not.” She shrugged one shoulder. “One can never tell with her sort of crazy.”
Shift.
“She works here?”
The girl glared at him. “Yeah, how else would she earn her keep? Nobody stays at the inn for free, you know.”
She started to walk toward the kitchen.
“Are you sure she won’t return tonight?” Kalen called after her.
A toss of dark hair. “Not when she’s had an episode.”
The door closed behind her.
“Thanks for your help,” Kalen muttered.
He shoved his way back out into the cold. In the few minutes he’d been inside, Servaille had started to clear out. Most of the storefronts darkened, all the footprints dulled as the wind caught the loose drifts of snow and swept it over the street. Strings of flickerfly light bounced off the white—dusted road, snowdrifts, pale buildings, clouded sky—refracting and reflecting until it seemed Kalen walked through a foggy haze of a dream.
Kalen hurried to the tavern, where he found Cirrus, Kristoph, and a red-cheeked Luna enjoying freshly poured mugs of ale. Jules had retired for the evening once she’d ensured Kristoph was no longer a danger to himself or the townspeople. He appeared in a much better mood, but Kalen was ready to return to the monastery. They needed sleep and to return to the inn first thing in the morning.
He tilted his head to the door. Luna threw down a couple of coins, and they excused themselves.
“Where did you go?” Cirrus asked Kalen as they exited.
The wind whipped along the street, and they hurried their steps. Kalen filled them in on what he had seen in Kristoph’s mind.
“Reign was angry, and Kristoph felt it. The entire crowd seemed on edge. I went to the inn to look for her, however they said she wouldn’t be back until morning.”
“We should head there first thing,” Cirrus said as he stepped over an errant log. He extended his good hand to help Luna after him.
“Were you able to follow Nero?” Kalen asked her. He trudged ahead, picking up the pace in an attempt to keep warm.
She shook her head. “This town has too many alleyways and vertical climbs. I did find some entrances into what appear to be the catacombs, but I didn’t delve too deep, because there was no sign of footprints.” She shivered in the cold air. “I did find out where he lives, though.” She pointed up and to the left. “Farther up the mountain, on the same elevation of the monastery but on the other side of the woods, there is a cluster of homes.”
“And he wasn’t there?”
“No.”
Nero and Reign both missing. It was too much of a coincidence. They had to be together.
But doing what?