The Art of Blood and Power (Book 2 in The Gifted Trilogy)

27- Faces of a Past Life

The trip to the outskirts of the Wind Court took a full day but with it only being Cicero and I, we managed to travel faster than I expected. Cicero handled negotiating for a boat rental at the Wind Court harbor while I kept my head lowered and checked to make sure the cloak over my head was secure at least a dozen times.

Since we had rented it from the Wind Court, the boat relied mostly on sails which meant there was little rowing involved with our journey. Cicero steered the ship as I took the role of using the paddles when the wind wasn't blowing hard enough.

A few hours passed before Cicero pointed out the blurry outline of land in the distance. I squinted my eyes, trying to make out its shape. "Have you ever been here before?" I asked.

"Once," he answered, blocking the sun with his hand. "It used to be used as a place for the Shadow Court to have a shot at bigger fish out here, but time passed and boats improved to the point that they were able to be taken out this far without any trouble, so the place became pretty useless afterwards."

"And this is where my mother had me" I said softly. "This is where she died." I prepared for a sense of sadness or anger to wash over me, but I didn't really feel anything from the words. I hadn't known her long enough to feel much of anything.

As we sailed closer to the small island, I began to make out parts of the castle that appeared to be the only remaining structure on the island. The castle was run-down to say the least. There were parts of the stone structure that were obviously missing, gaping holes at the top of towers, one place where stone laid in a heap in the middle of a collapsed bridge that attached one end of the castle to the other. The bottom of the gray structure was darker than the top, revealing signs of erosion made by the ongoing tide.

"Do you really think we'll find anything here?" I asked Cicero, doubt in my voice. This place looked as if nobody had been there for years. It had likely been raided by ships that stumbled across it a long time ago, and looked as if it wouldn't even be defensible against a gang of twelve-year-olds.

"This place was very special to your mother," Cicero explained. "I never understood the allure of it, but she loved this place dearly. If she were to pick a place to hide something meant for only you to find, it would be here."

I nodded, brushing off my doubt as the shore came into view. I jumped out of the boat, dragging it onto the sand as Cicero joined me. We were facing what I assumed was the front of the castle. Between the building and the shore rested a skinny sliver of land that was suffocated by weeds and some type of red flower.

Cicero bent down to pluck one, smiling softly as he studied it. "Zinnias," he explained. "Stubborn things. They can grow in almost any condition. They were your mother's favorite." He stood back up, tucking the flower behind my ear gently. "This place is already revealing the parts of your mother that she left behind."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak as Cicero led us to the door that appeared to be a drawbridge more than an actual door. Cicero raised an arm, grabbing the top and pulling down hard. The door slowly came down, opening from the top until it rested completely against the ground. I stepped through the opening and Cicero joined. The second he let go of the door, it raised itself back up, some mechanical pulley pushing it back into place.

There were enough missing stones that the daylight was able to shine through the otherwise dark building. To the side of the room stood a door that was ajar and led to a set of stone staircases.

"Is everything here made of stone?" I questioned. This place was nothing like the castles I had been in before. Where the other places were built to make their guests equal amounts amazed and envious, this castle seemed to have been made to withstand rough winds and high tides, but not much more than that.