Tempris

Acolyte: Chapter 2

-An excerpt from When the Bridges Fell: Letters from a Lost Island

They're calling it the Schism now—the day the world broke apart. Most people, if you ask them, will say they remember the flashes of light, or the explosions, or the way the ground around the gates began to fall away. But me—I was at home that day, far away from any of the gates. All I remember is the ash. I thought it was snowing at first, but then I remembered it was summer.

-Author and recipient unknown. This letter is part of an unclaimed collection discovered after the evacuation of the mountain pass villages.

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Taly's boots clicked on the polished marble as she followed Leto down the darkened hallway. The ghostly woman drifted ahead of her, glowing softly. Her light expanded to fill the space, casting everything in the same shade of pale blue.

Leto had been circumspect in the information she divulged. Tea was to be served in the Water Maze, though Taly had no idea what or where that was. And besides the Queen and the fairies and now her, the palace was uninhabited. When Taly had asked why, the question was ignored.

Taly took a long breath—in and then out—but her fingers still shook as she smoothed her hands over the supple velvet that hugged her waist. She had never worn anything as fine as the ensemble Leto had chosen for her. A formal frockcoat spun from shadows and threaded with stars, a silky tunic as blue as the sea—both perfectly layered and draped over a pair of steel gray leggings that flaunted every curve. Sapphires dotted her ears, accentuating that strange fey arch, and water magic darkened her lashes. A simple diadem painted a streak of silver through the graceful riot of golden curls that spilled over her shoulders.

They passed through a wide arching vestibule with a tree—an actual tree—growing down from the ceiling, pinpricks of light dotting its spindly branches. Mirrors surrounded her on all sides, and Taly's eyes were inevitably drawn to the stranger that stared back.

She looked pale, even beneath the pretty pink flush Leto had applied to her cheeks, and her hand kept drifting to the tiny piece of quartz hanging around her neck—her mother's necklace. When they were children, Skye always knew when she was afraid or upset, even if she was just sitting quietly with her thoughts. At first, she'd thought he'd been reading her scent or listening to her heart, until one day he'd found her sitting on a bench in town, trying to work up the courage to go talk to the boy working in the butcher shop. "You fidget when you're nervous," was all he had said as he pried her hand away from her necklace, squeezing it tight.

He'd sat with her like that for an hour, refusing to let her leave until he'd made her laugh.

Taly blinked back the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes. She would give anything to see Skye right now—to have him take her hand and make some stupid joke that was so terrible it was almost funny. She tried to remember his eyes, his smile, the way he would pace and scuff his heels whenever he got nervous, and for a moment, the fear ebbed. She could almost imagine him standing behind her, telling her to hurry up, and hey, if she was going to die, at least she would get to ask the most infamous woman in all the worlds why she did what she did. Who else got to say that?

"Madam?" Leto called from beyond one of the gilded doorways.

Taly jumped, not realizing she'd stopped in front of the mirror. "Sorry," she mumbled, jogging to catch up. "Also, I'd prefer it if you didn't call me 'Madam' either."

"Of course, Ma'am."

Taly rolled her eyes but chose to stay silent as she continued to follow the ghostly woman past more hallways and more mirrors and a seemingly endless number of rooms and stairwells until they came to a long receiving hall. A set of massive oak doors stood at the opposite end, opening on silent hinges as they approached.