How could he ever let her go?
She moved toward the middle of the room, where a table rested, covered with a red velvet tablecloth. The crowns sat on top, draped with another cloth of red velvet, edged with gold braid. A gold-colored tassel hung from each corner.
After lighting all the candles, he set the candlestick on a small table by the door and noticed that one of his cuffs was unbuttoned. He’d dressed in a hurry at the cabin.
He’d spent the morning at the Sacred Well, searching once again for a clue that Fafnir was indeed alive and living there. But there had been nothing other than the dirty pallet and men’s clothing, belonging perhaps to the caretaker who kept the candles lit inside the cave. Silas had looked for him, but he was nowhere to be found.
After flying back to the cabin, Silas had been dressing when Dimitri had alerted him that Gwennore wanted to see him.
He buttoned the cuff as he approached her at the table. “Why did you want to see the crowns?”
“We were trying to think of something tangible that all the queens would have had in common.”
“So you suspect this?” He grabbed a tassel and pulled the cloth back.
She gasped.
“I know.” He gave the crowns a dubious look. “They’re a bit much, aren’t they?”
“I … suppose they’re meant to impress.”
He snorted. “Are you being tactful? They’re gaudy as hell.”
Her mouth twitched. “Since you’ll probably have to wear one of them someday, I’ll refrain from comment.”
With a chuckle, he pointed at the larger one. “You mean this one? It belongs to the king.”
“It must have ten times the jewels as the one Leo wears.”
Silas nodded. “You can safely say that the Norveshki have been obsessed with jewels for centuries.” He motioned to the smaller crown. The gold rim and five golden arches were heavily encrusted with all kinds of jewels, and perched on top was a sparkling ruby dragon. “That one is for the queen.”
Gwen winced. “It looks like they tried to cram as many jewels on it as possible.”
He reached for it, but she grabbed his arm to stop him.
“We suspect it may be poisonous.” She pulled some dainty white gloves from her pocket. “Margosha gave me these. We should wear them just to be safe.” She set one pair on the table, then pulled on the second pair.
With a wry look, he picked up a glove. There was no way his hand would fit in this. Cupping it around his fingers, he lifted the queen’s crown. “You want a closer look at it?”
She took it in her hands. “Goodness, it weighs a ton. Wearing it must be a huge pain in the neck.”
“So you think this crown is the main cause of the queen’s madness?”
“Perhaps.” Gwen set it on the velvet tablecloth. “We can’t think of anything else that every queen has had in common.”
“But if someone had coated the crowns with poison five centuries ago, wouldn’t it have worn off years ago?”
“You would think so.” Gwen retrieved a small bag from her gown pocket. “We suspect these rings are tainted.” She upended the bag, and three rings tumbled onto the velvet tablecloth. “They were all given to Her Majesty in the past year.”
Using a glove, Silas picked up the emerald ring that he’d asked his brother about the night before. “This was a gift from the king.” And Fafnir had given it to him.
“They were all gifts from the king.” Gwen motioned to the other rings. One held a sapphire and the other, an opal. “As you can see, the stones are all different. What the rings have in common is the metal that was used.”
As Silas examined the rings, he grew increasingly alarmed. The Norveshki tended to focus only on jewels and ignore the setting. “Are you saying the metal itself could be poisonous? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Gwennore shrugged. “If some plants and animals are poisonous, then why not metal, too?”
He winced as he set the rings down. “The kings have always wanted everyone to believe the crowns are made of pure gold. But the jewels are so heavy that the crowns were reinforced with another metal. Here, I’ll show you.” Using the velvet square-shaped cloth to protect his hands, he picked up the crown and turned it upside down.
Gwen gasped.
The inside of the crown was made with the same dull silver metal that had been used for the rings. A poisonous metal? Silas set it down with a thud. “For five hundred years, the Norveshki rulers have worn these crowns. And for five hundred years, they have suffered from illness and madness. Is it our own greed for jewels that has caused the curse?”
Gwen ran a gloved finger over the ruby-encrusted dragon. “Margosha told me the Ancient Ones made the crowns and gave them to the first king and queen.”
“That’s true.” Silas narrowed his eyes. And another Ancient One, Fafnir, had probably given all three of the tainted rings to his brother.
Gwen gave him a worried look. “If the metal is indeed poisonous, and the Ancient Ones knew it, then—”
“They set us up to fail,” Silas muttered. Dammit, they’d set the human kings up to die. “They never intended for us to last. They just planned to use us for a while.”
Gwen winced. “It looks that way. But before we draw any conclusions, we need to test one of the crowns.”
“You have a lily pad big enough?”
“I thought we could use a bigger plant. A much bigger one that can communicate with me.”
“The giant redwoods?”
She nodded. “The Kings of the Forest said they would help me. They had one condition, though.”
“What was that?”
“They’re sentient beings, Silas. And centuries old. They want the humans to stop cutting them down.”
“That’s easy enough. I’ll ask Petras to make it a law at the next Summoning.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
Her lovely face warmed his heart. “You should smile more often. You have a beautiful smile.”
She shot him an annoyed look. “We need to
