Page 98 of Lady's Steed
"A clearer head won’t make a boat suddenly appear and agree to give us passage.” Avera remained miffed. Of all people, a Verlorian captain should have been the most willing to aid.
They trudged back to the inn, passing by the boat that showed no sign of life or the captain.
Sleep proved elusive as Avera tossed and turned, riddled with emotions that varied. From the moment her mother died, things hadn’t gone well. The people hadn’t truly accepted her. A coup had ousted her. An evil entity threatened. She couldn’t get to Verlora. Couldn’t stop failing.
She rose in the morning, morose, and despite Josslyn’s attempts to cheer her, Avera couldn’t shake it.
“I need some time to myself,” Avera muttered when Gustav asked if she wanted him to help her train.
“Where are you going?” he asked as she headed for the door.
“For a walk down the pier.”
“Alone?”
“Why not? The soldiers are gone, and you know I can protect myself.”
“You can but shouldn’t have to.” Gustav’s lips pinched. “If you’re going to try and talk to the captain again, do it quick. Korr says they’re readying to leave.”
Her lips turned down. “I doubt there’s any point. He made himself very clear on the subject.”
“Stay away from that chapel,” Gustav warned.
She didn’t reply, mostly because she preferred not to lie. Avera fully intended to return and look at it in the light of day. With the altar destroyed, and the Zhos tainted water gone, she didn’t fear.
Much.
As Avera strode along, she noticed the sailors busy loading crates. Of the captain, she saw no sign. What a puzzle he proved to be. Acting as if he couldn’t be bothered with her problems only to join the fight against the knights and monsters. The fact his blade could slice through Zhos’ creations intrigued. She’d never heard of wolfframm before. A metal sharper even than her dagger-sword. And what of the glow when it struck? Magic or something else? Had her amulet, been partially made from the same ore?
The crushed shell path crunched underfoot as she strode past the ship, her lips and fists tight. As Josslyn kept saying, there would be more vessels. Likely more rejection, too, if she didn’t find a way to pay. How would she find the funds, though? She needed something of value and the handful of coins taken from the knights would not be enough.
And no, she wouldn’t trade Luna. Her steed wasn’t an object for bargaining.
The chapel appeared derelict in the light of day, the stone façade cracked and pitted, the roof sagging in the middle. On the ground outside, blood spatters remained, the kind left by humans. Of the monsters? Nothing, not even a splotch to show where they’d died.
The door remained slightly ajar, and she entered, leaving it wide open behind her to give herself light as the chapel lacked windows. The altar at the far end remained collapsed. A pile of broken bone and dust, destroyed by her blood. What made it so special?
Avera glanced at the walls and realized they had faint drawings on them. They’d been unnoticeable the night before by lantern light. She stepped close to eye them, and her brow crinkled as she tried to make sense of it. The first part seemed to be a map showing the continents. Daerva. Verlora. Okkilam. Pequilh. Merisu. All of them there plus one she didn’t recognize. It sat North of Daerva, only as far as she knew nothing existed in that area. The squiggled waves drawn indicated the seas around the countries and islands, and in spots, depictions of monsters. A serpentine shape. A bulbous one with tentacles. Even a crab.
She crossed to the other wall and saw a man in a robe holding out his hands, cupping something. Light, or it could have been water given the faint droplets that fell from them. The figure stood on a cliff and at his back, what could have been the chapel she stood in. Rising from the waves, a monster. A thing of nightmares with a serpentine body, wings, teeth. It reminded her of the drawings of dragons she’d seen in the royal library, but mixed with other creatures. Part of the religion that used to be followed?
“Looking for more trouble?”
The deep voice had her whirling. The captain leaned in the doorway.
“I’d prefer to return to my life of nothingness, however, fate has decreed I shan’t have peace.”
“What did you expect? You are queen.”
“Not currently,” she muttered. “As you pointed out, there is a traitor who is determined I never hold that title.”
“Do you want to rule?”
“Not really, but that choice was taken from me when Benoit had my family murdered. I was supposed to die, too, you know. My surviving the assassination caused issues with the traitor’s plans.”
“Why do you really want to go to Verlora?”
“I told you. I have a task to accomplish.” Then because she lost nothing by telling the truth, “I was told I must retrieve five rocks stolen by my father and taken to your country.”