Wind Wielder

Chapter 45 - Burn

It had been three days since the Courtyard incident.

Zara hadn't seen Eris once since then, the haughty princeling content to ignore her existence, as if she was the gnat on the side of his shoe he hadn't figured out how to scrape off.

Ironic, considering he was the reason she had been brought here. But Zara didn't mind. If only because it allowed her to roam the halls more freely without waiting for his beck and call. At least one letter, one snide comment in the notebook, would have been nice. But really, she didn't mind.

Zara had found her best lead yet.

It was barely five am. The birds deep within the ancient forests surrounding the Forrest were beginning to stir, filling the silent air with the quick chatter and symphony that had been occurring here each morning since the dawn of time. The sun itself was still far below the horizon. It hid the red world of Autumn in muted shades of gray and murky brown, concealing the vibrant shades of the ancient trees outside the castle walls in mist and darkness like a burial shroud.

Zara was a wraith through the halls, dressed in nothing but a burgundy cloak and her servants gown. A dagger strapped to her leg beneath her skirts. She willed with winds around her to hide all scent and sound from her as she crept through the gnarled mossy hidden halls of the Forest house in pure darkness, feeling its familiar cling like a second skin.

Azriels little shadow clung to her closer, nestling against her ankle tighter.

The secret passageways of the Forest House were easily decipherable once one figured out their patterns. Each floor was the same. Zara had mapped out all of them using the winds or her own steps as she trekked through the halls, delivering laundry to each of the High families quarters. Afterall, it was only her and Annaise that were allowed to follow through with such tasks, as the sole High Fae laundresses of the upper echelon. Though only Annaise was allowed to enter Berons chambers, as the chief laundress.

Zara had noticed there was an irregularity in the passageway patterns, a mere two floors below Berons. Which wouldn't have been so interesting if it hadn't been so close to the space directly beneath Beron's bathing chambers.

Zara approached the irregularity, willing the winds around her to swirl tighter, denser, until her shield locked firmly into place.

It was a broom closet at first glance. Zara wasted no time in walking right in and shutting the door behind her, turning her back on the odd shaped leaves lining the hallway directly outside the ancient, shoddy door.

She paused to scent the air, running her hand along the back wall, closing her eyes. She gently pushed the brooms and cobweb covered dust pans to the side, hastily shaking off the spider she felt crawling over the back of her hand. Her hand struck the wall, immediately noting the hollow sound.

A soft smile curled her lips.

Her fingers gently ran over the edges of the back wall, letting her winds caress the surface. They quickly pooled at the top right corner, where Zara soon felt the barest indent of a latch.

Zara squeezed, and felt the wall giveaway. She did the same to the bottom, and soon she was swinging open the secret doorway that ached and groaned as if it had not been opened for centuries. Zara scented the sour,  ancient air that filled her nostrils and quickly realized that was most likely. 

She took a cautious step forward in the darkness, her toes immediately catching on something hard. Concrete. She lifted her leg, finding her footing on slightly higher ground.