“So she can hear what we’re saying at any moment?” asked Jova.
“The White Queen is a Charnel Duchess of immense dignity and respect,” said Kyrie. “She does not intrude upon private chambers without extreme need, nor deigns to listen in casually on conversations. Think of it more as an ambient form of security. She doesn’t brook conflict within her halls.”
“Got it,” said Scorio.
“When she’s ready to speak with you she’ll let you know—don’t feel restricted to your rooms. She sends word to wherever you are when she’s ready. Until then, all you need do is enjoy her hospitality and your first visit to the Fiery Shoals. You should definitely take advantage of the baths, but you can also visit the library, hike out along the Cliff Trail, or meet other visitors in the Dining Hall. You never know who you’ll see passing through.”
Lianshi clapped her hands excitedly. “Thank you! This is going to be so much fun.”
Kyrie grinned. “It can be. If you have need of anything you can either ask a servant or find me in the library. I’m usually there reading my books unless I’ve been sent for. Any last questions?”
Everyone glanced at each other.
“I think we’re good,” said Jova.
Naomi fingered her sticky hair. “Almost good.”
“Great.” Kyrie stepped back to the front door. “Then I shall take my leave.”
Once he was gone Scorio rounded on the others with a grin. “Can you believe we’re here? And days ahead of schedule?”
“I still don’t know what happened,” protested Leonis. “One moment I was drowning in egg fiends, then I’m being ushered through a portal…?”
“I can’t wait to see the library,” said Lianshi.
“Disgusting,” said Naomi. “You need to bathe first.”
“Well, obviously.” Lianshi all but rolled her eyes. “And the Cliff Trail! I want to see the Lava Trees up close.”
Scorio grinned. “I’ll join you. Though I wonder how long it’ll take the White Queen to summon us.”
“And do you think we should ask Davelos and Evelyn to join?” Jova crossed her arms. “I’m still not sure about them.”
“They did get us here,” said Scorio.
“Technically true.” Jova’s gaze was dark. “Insofar as they fell into a huge goldyolk ambush and then led us right into six Ixithilions.”
“Not very impressive,” mused Leonis. “I can’t help but feel like Davelos isn’t as attached to us as he should be.”
“At all,” said Zala.
“Let’s take it one step at a time,” said Scorio. “We’re here, everything is working in our favor, and the White Queen is more favorably disposed toward me than I had hoped. Let’s wash, explore, eat our fill, and wait to be summoned. Once we see how that meeting goes we can plan our next steps.”
“Hot pools,” said Naomi. “Now.”
“Agreed,” said Juniper. “If it weren’t for how noxious the air is here I’d be gagging over how I smell.”
“And what’s the logic behind the goldyolks?” asked Leonis, following them to the door. “Their attack plan can’t be to just smother us to death with their innards, can it?”
“Should have asked Kyrie while he was here,” said Scorio, opening the door. “Or you can catch him later in the library. There’s got to be some rationale to it.”
“Hot pools,” said Naomi, pushing Scorio through. “My hair is congealing into a slab of tarry wood.”
Scorio laughed and emerged into the bleak hall of glimmering obsidian. He felt light, terribly alive, glad for having not only escaped his brush with death but then also having been rewarded beyond his wildest hopes.
As he led his companions down the hall he felt a wave of hope so intoxicating wash over him that he felt almost giddy. Their plan was working. They’d survived a brutal encounter with fiends, shaved three days off their deadline, and now got to enjoy the White Queen’s hospitality while awaiting her summons.
Life couldn’t be better.
Chapter 17
“I’ve changed my mind,” said Leonis, his tone sober, contemplative. “I don’t think I want to learn the truth nor advance in power or see more of Hell. This might well be my terminus point. I think I’m going to stay here.”
Scorio smiled lazily and leaned back against the smoothly sloped obsidian siding of the hot pool. Steam rose in tendrils from the water’s surface, and a faint current wended its way past their bodies, washing the dirt and ichor and filth away.
He’d thought their azure pool in their Academy suite the height of luxury, but that was nothing compared to what the Fiery Shoals had to offer. The steam made it hard to gauge the full extent of the room, but the entire floor seemed to be a series of grottos, isolated tubs, and networked pools through which one could allow the currents to carry you, with each subsequent pool being ever deeper and hotter.
Hundreds could avail themselves of the system without the water feeling crowded; the women in their group had left them to find their own secluded area, and thus Scorio and Leonis floated in bliss.
The heat leached the soreness out of his muscles and soothed his Heart; the water was infused with Copper mana, making it a very gentle source of spiritual restoration. Large drops fell from the scalloped ceiling of volcanic rock, and echoes played weirdly through the chambers and domes, so that Scorio couldn’t tell if people were close by or several grottos removed.
“This place is far bigger than I imagined,” said Scorio, lacing his fingers behind his head and closing his eyes. “I’d always thought the Shoals a small fortress, but this is more of a city.”
“Hmm.” Leonis sounded too lazy to respond, but then he roused himself. “Apparently it was once even busier. Much of it now lies empty. There was a time, early on—Lianshi could no doubt talk your ear off about this—when it was the main staging point for deeper delves into Hell. Into the Iron Weald, certainly, and beyond. But… that was centuries ago.” That fact seemed to bring Leonis great comfort. “Everything’s grown quite civilized, since.”
“Minus the occasional roving band of Ixithilions.”
“We have Charnel Duchesses on hand to take care of such inconveniences.”
“Do we now?” Scorio smiled. “How easily you assume the mantle of the Golden King.”
“You do realize that we’re about to become heroes.” Leonis sighed happily. “We rode forth from Bastion during one of its darkest chapters, and will return to restore glory and peace. Not only that, but Manticore has to be salivating over the prospect of recruiting us. Soon as the rest of us make Tomb Spark we’ll be off to work new miracles and earn even more undying gratitude. Ah, life.”
Scorio snorted. “The White Queen hasn’t agreed to anything yet.”
“You know she will. She seems the type to opt for justice and… what’s the word. Equity? You’ll make a convincing case, she’ll teleport home, smack Praximar upside the head, and then it will be a couple of weeks of solid feasting and parades in our honor.”
A new voice intruded, soft and amused. “Who will smack Pyre Lord Praximar upside the head?”
Scorio sat up with a splash. A woman had joined them unannounced, sliding into the water to sit shoulder-deep, her oval face pale and luminous in the steamy gloom, her ebon hair drawn back into a tight bun. Her eyes were mesmerizing, a malachite green ringed with hazel—or was it blue? While her face was a starfield of freckles. She was slightly older than them both, late twenties perhaps, but her self-possession, dignity, and poise made her seem far older.