The sharp flavor melted on my tongue. I ate the fruit next, and then the soup, which reminded me of a French onion soup I’d eaten at one of Houston’s fancier places back when I’d dated Brent—when he’d footed the bill so I could afford to eat at places like that. I hadn’t thought about my ex in a while. Although he’d recovered from the bloodthorn incident on Earth, he still had a million questions for me. But those were worries for another time.
Silvestra watched me as I ate, although she only nibbled her food and took small sips from her goblet.
“Have you discovered a way to open the box?” she asked.
“No.”
“Have you gotten close?”
“I’ve made some progress, but it would be helpful if you gave me a hint.”
“A hint?”
“Yes, you know, tell me what the symbols mean or what language they’re written in. At this point, anything would be helpful.”
“I see.” She sipped her drink while keeping her eyes on me, then placed her goblet on the table. “I can tell you that the answers are not found where you’ve been looking.”
Awesome. I’d been looking in the wrong place the whole time. What other good news did she have for me?
“I will also tell you that you must stop doubting yourself. Opening the box is within your own capabilities.”
“But it’s not made of any magic I’m familiar with. How can I open it if I don’t even know what spells to use?”
She only smiled. “Keep searching.”
She must have gotten some sick pleasure watching me blunder around the castle like an idiot. I was sure it would give her endless amounts of joy when I failed and became her prisoner. I had the urge to toss the box out the window and drag unconscious Kull out of the castle—if only I could find a way to get that collar off his neck. Hence the key. And the box. Which meant throwing it out the window wouldn’t work. It looked like I was stuck playing her stupid game while Kull suffered. Some things were so not fair.
I finished the food and prepared to leave. When I scooted the chair away from the table, she stopped me.
“I do not wish for you to fail,” she said.
“Really?” I asked. “It seems you’ve set me up for it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because if I don’t open the box in time, then you win. You get both Kull and me as your slaves. But if I do manage to open it, it means you lose, it means Kull and I escape and you’re down two pawns. I don’t see how my ability to open the box benefits you in any way, and so that is why I don’t think it’s possible. You’ve given me hope by handing me a key and a promise, but that promise is locked inside a box that can’t be opened.”
“It cannot be opened,” she said, “because you do not believe it’s possible.”
“No. It can’t be opened because you won’t allow it.”
“That is a lie.”
“Prove it.”
She stood. “All I will tell you is that I very much wish for you to open that box, because if you do, my assumptions of you will be proven correct.”
“What assumptions?”
“Open the box,” she said, “and you will find out.”
She left the room without another word, leaving me alone to ponder the box. Silvestra confused me on so many levels. What were her motivations? What would I be proving by opening the box?
Frustrated, I left the room and returned to my task of wandering the castle’s hallways. On the bright side, I’d wandered the halls for so long now that I finally knew my way around the place.
I didn’t return to the gardens. If Silvestra were right and I’d been looking in the wrong place, then I would find somewhere else to look. Removing the box from my pocket, I examined it once again. It looked no different than it had before, although being inside gave me the advantage of seeing the symbols with more clarity. An idea struck me, so I found a dark, windowless room, stepped inside, and took a closer look at the symbols.
I focused on each symbol in turn, but as I focused on the circle symbol with the half-moons inside, I gasped as I saw what it really was—a human skull.
Varying shades of light gray formed the bones around the eye sockets and pronounced forehead, while darker shades made the teeth and jawbones.
Skulls on Faythander, just as on Earth, represented death, but why would a skull be on this box? Surveying the other symbols, I noted that they all seemed unchanged. None of them looked any different except the image of the circle.
What was I missing?
I hadn’t seen the image of the skull in the rose garden, but I’d had a really bad perspective. Maybe it was time to get a new perspective.
I exited the room and took the stairs, searching for the castle’s tallest tower. Half an hour later, after finding rooms filled with wraiths who sat silently doing mundane tasks such as washing or mending, and other rooms where the wraiths simply sat and stared at walls, I finally found the tallest tower with a view of the garden.
The tower was cylindrical, with a staircase spiraling up the center. When I reached the top, I found windows circling the room. As I stood at the glass looking out, the view amazed me. Against the sky I found a brief shimmering, as if the castle and its garden were encased in some sort of invisibility dome. The magic it must have taken to fuel such a spell would have been exponentially huge—and I could only assume the life forces of the witch’s captured wraiths were fueling it. It also made sense as to why I’d never seen the castle before—not in the air while flying over the mountain, and not when I’d explored the cave to the undiscovered land at the top of Dragon Spine Mountain.
The garden spread in
