Queens Of Osiris

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Two years ago, after the War, Blodwyn, Anna, and Mykal travelled east of the Isthmian Sea. On the north side of the Muye Mountains, just east of the Constantine Realm, were the old Library Ruins. Most of the main level had been destroyed by time, neglect, and weather. It didn’t detract from the overall architecture of the place. Cracked and crumbling steps led to marble pillars that stood like cylindrical guards posted outside the front entrance. Marble was clearly the motif, or theme, throughout. The floors were marble tiles that were only visible after many days of sweeping and washing when they first arrived.

The front foyer was large with rooms on the left and right. It opened to the large library with two levels. On the first floor there were bare, and mostly broken, or missing shelves lining rows of bookcases. The second level was a wrap-around. The staircase was in back. Above was a tall dome ceiling. What windows were still in place were stained glass. Where there were broken, or missing windows, Blodwyn and Mykal boarded the openings over, keeping the elements and wildlife out.

The average person would’ve seen the place for what it was. A ruin.

The magic was hidden.

It wasn’t a glamour spell.

Around back was a hen house where they cared for chickens and further back, a small barn where they kept several cows they’d acquired. In the spring and summer, they planted and harvested a variety of fruits and vegetables.

Anna showed them into a backroom off the small kitchen with a stone oven and past a contained open fire area, where she revealed a secret panel on the corner wall. She depressed it and a door in the floor opened. A spiral staircase led into the bowels of the library. Below there was more marble, rolled up scrolls, manuscripts, and books that filled the bookcases. In the lower levels, the ancient materials remained safe and preserved.

Inside the library, on the foyer floor, Mykal called out, “Mother! Mother?”

Mykal pressed his palms against the woman’s face. The skin was blistered. She felt like ice. Her skin was both red, burnt from the sun and wind, and blue. He lowered his head and again listened by her mouth for signs of her breathing.

It was faint.

“Mother!” If she was downstairs, she’d never hear him.

He reached out with his mind. He called to her in his thoughts. That magic seemed limitless. She could hear him miles away.

He peeled away the gray garment. Holding it up between his fingers, he inspected the sewn together rags and shook his head. Although he didn’t know where she’d come from, he knew the distance crossed was too far for mere rags. Winter in the foothills of the Muye were proving more extreme than in Grey Ashland on the southwest side of the Isthmian.

He needed to get her warm. Mykal stood up and removed his cloak. He placed it over her like a blanket, the hood at her feet.

The front doors swung opened.

Wind whipped into the library, bringing with it wisps of snow and the freezing cold Mykal had just escaped from.

“Wyn, shut the door!”

“You said we had to get her inside,” Blodwyn said, closing the doors. The hinges creaked. The vacuum it created sucked them shut with a bang that echoed.

“We did.”

Blodwyn walked over to them. “Wrong. You did. When you said we, I just assumed you’d wait for me to get to the two of you. Then we could have jumped from there to here together.”

Mykal offered up a failed smile. “Oops? Look, I panicked. She’s barely breathing.”

Blodwyn took a knee by the woman’s head. He looked at the woman and then up at Mykal with his head tilted to the left.

“What?” Mykal asked.

“Pretty young lady.” Blodwyn pulled off a glove and touched the back of a hand to her cheek. “I’ll start a fire.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mykal said.

“It means I’ll put logs of wood in the hearth and set them on fire.”

“No. Not that. I knew what that meant. The comment about her being a pretty young lady. What was that supposed to mean?” Mykal said.

“You hadn’t noticed?”

There were two hearths. One to the right and one on the level below, directly under it. They shared the same chimney. Blodwyn took logs from the stacks and set them on an iron grate inside the hearth.

Mykal thrust his arm forward, his fingers rolled into a fist.

The logs burst into flames.

“Help me get her closer,” Mykal said.

Blodwyn opened his mouth, as if he were about to release a snide comment, but closed it just as quickly. The two of them lifted the woman and brought her closer to the fire. Mykal repositioned his cloak on her, ensuring she was snug. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

“I can’t say for sure,” Blodwyn said.

He couldn’t know that, though.

“Can’t say what for sure?”

Mykal stood up and turned around. His mother was dressed in an emerald green dress and her hair was styled in a bun, loose strands draped down in front of her face and over her ears. They shared the same coppery brown hair color, and while she was tall and thin, Mykal was built more like his late father.

He pointed. “She collapsed in the snow.”