A Dawn of Onyx (The Sacred Stones, #1)(38)

All of my love,

Arwen

I had been carrying the letter around with me for days like a child with a safety blanket. I just couldn’t bring myself to ask the bastard to make good on his promise, especially after the last time I had seen him when I’d behaved like a maniac. I debated giving the letter to Barney, who I passed in the great hall or gallery every so often, but I’d get a better sense of whether or not King Ravenwood was planning to keep his promises if I could talk to him one on one and somehow make up for my outburst.

I had never been so outspoken with anyone in my life. I hated him, I didn’t respect him, I didn’t trust him, and I could not for the life of me keep my thoughts off of him and his smug, cruel words. But I needed to harness that fury and put on a pleasant face if I was to ask him to send the letter.

I arrived at the dimly lit library after another morning training with Dagan. Mari was slumped over three books in various stages of completion, snoring like a bear in hibernation.

“Mari?”

“Ah!” she gasped, shooting up like a firecracker, red hair spilling over her face.

“Did you fall asleep up here?”

“Ugh, yes,” she croaked. “The last time I did that was before I took the barrister’s exam.”

“You took the barrister’s exam? Are you going to become a barrister?”

“Oh Stones, no,” she shook her head, patting down her hair.

“Then…why?”

“Just to see if I could ace it,” she gave me a knowing smile that said she very clearly had.

I shook my head. “You’re a nut.” Her smile broadened, pulling a grin from my own lips. “And I’m really glad your father left his sock in my infirmary.”

“Me too. I haven’t had a new friend in some time,” she said, as she stood up and stretched. “I think I annoy people, sometimes.”

Before I could disagree, she continued.

“Anyway, look what I found.” Mari pointed to the book in front of us, and I followed her fingers across the worn, sand-colored page. “Fatigue, muscle decay, headaches, weight loss…”

The page detailed my mother’s condition to a tee, down to the aching joints, headaches, and drowsy spells.

A spark lit inside me—guarded hope and a sliver of sheer joy.

“What is it?”

“The book’s from the Pearl Mountains, so you know it’s accurate,” she started. The kingdom was known for its vast wealth of knowledge and towering libraries built into and floating among the city’s peaks.

“It says the illness is called Plait’s Disorder and has a surprisingly simple cure. ‘One concoction, taken each day, abated most patient symptoms and improved both quality of life and life expectancy’.”

The sliver of joy widened to an entire slice. It was too good to be true.

“Mari! You’re a genius.”

She beamed at me, still looking like she needed a good comb. “I’m just a power reader. It was your idea to search the library.”

The concoction’s ingredients weren’t too common but luckily the castle’s apothecary had all but one. I had never heard of burrowroot, and after organizing the apothecary inventory about three times a day, each day, I knew we didn’t have any.

“Damn,” I muttered as I read. “Do you know anything about burrowroot?”

Mari nodded. “It’s native to the Onyx Kingdom, so it probably grows in the woods around here. But it only blossoms during the lunar eclipse, which is in two months, and only about eight minutes long from start to finish.”

I grimaced as disappointment washed over me. So close, and yet—

“How can I find it on the eclipse?”

“It leaves this iridescent residue year-round wherever it grows, so if you had some way of braving the forest, you could look for it now. Then you’d have to find your way back to the spot on the evening of the eclipse…” As if she saw my mind turning, she added, “Please don’t do anything completely stupid.”

“I won’t,” I lied.

I was getting good at that.

***

If step one of being brave was acknowledging that I had to see the King again, both to get him my letter and now to find the burrowroot residue in the Shadow Woods, then step two was actually doing something about it.

It was my day off from the apothecary—I guessed Dagan needed a break from the constant chatting and giggling that occurred now that Mari liked to visit me each day—and I was making my way toward the throne room. To ask the wicked king for his help. Like an idiot.

The castle was quiet and sleepy as I wandered the halls, observing the families and soldiers as they enjoyed breakfast in the great hall. My stomach grumbled. In just two weeks, I had become shamefully accustomed to the Onyx Kingdom’s cloverbread. The dark brown loaves were made from obsidian wheat native to the land, blended with molasses and caraway. Dense and slightly sweet, I slathered my slices in melting butter each morning. Watching a mother and son tear into a piping hot loaf as they looked over a picture book made my heart ache.

I had to admit, if this castle was anything to go by, maybe the Onyx Kingdom was not the land of horrors that everyone I had grown up with claimed it was. None of these people had gnarled horns or grotesque claws, and definitely no wings. Besides Bert, nobody had even been too unkind to me. Despite all the times my mother had said to never judge a book by its cover, I had done just that. I wondered if these people also despised the war just as much as we had back in Amber. I was sure they too had lost homes and family members.