Page 141 of The Stolen Throne
See? This is why Omma and I should not do things together. We both have to have the last word.
Bene gives me a nudge that I’m sure he thought was gentle but makes me stumble forward. “We should make haste.”
Right. Hurry to conquer a giant when we have zero usable powers at our disposal. “Um…do we sneak past him?”
Bene shakes his head. “That will end in your death.”
Wonderful. “Then how?”
“We ask nicely.”
“I smell humans,” the giant rumbles in a voice that is as deep and smooth as water in an underground cistern. The silky voice is completely at odds with his rocky appearance.
Dust and pebbles fall from above, kicking up a hazy cloud as his eyes open. Heart clogging my throat, I wait for whatever is coming next. Bene can get us out fast if he has to. I hold on to that thought hard.
“No,” the giant murmurs now, to himself, I think. “I smell sovereigns.”
At least he didn’t say a queen and two stand-ins or something.
At another not-so-gentle nudge from Bene, I clear my throat and wave at my sister, who isn’t exactly a picture of regal perfection on her rock. “May I present Queen Tabra Eutheria I of Aryd. My name is Meren—”
“Mereneith Evangeline XII of Aryd. And the other is Mereneith XI. No soul’s existence escapes us here, even those who are not recorded in the Book of Names. We know of you.”
We? Who else is he talking about? The dead?
“Um.” Nerves make me quippy. “All good things, I hope?”
“We don’t see the world in terms of good or bad.”
He said it again. We. I glance behind me and around us but only see the canyon.
“My name is Basalt.”
How appropriate.
The giant raises his hand, taking out of his rocky pocket, of all things, a pipe. A pipe he proceeds to light, then smoke in the form of dust puffing out of one end. “You wish to enter the Land of Eternal Death?”
Why else would someone come here? “Yes.”
He nods thoughtfully, as though this is a ponderous thing.
I glance at Bene, who is still watching the giant carefully. He said to ask politely. I’ll give it a try. “May we have your…err…blessing to pass?”
“For them…no.”
We all straighten at that. “Why not?” Omma demands.
“They may be of royal blood, but Soul Enfernae have a tendency to attract the dead. Souls attach themselves on the way out.”
Given a soul recently got violently disattatched from my sister, I’m glad the giant and I can see eye to eye on that. I round on Omma. “Why did you think you could try it, then? You said you’ve been here before.”
Her lips pucker, and for a beat I think she won’t answer. But then: “I’ve never tried to enter. I waited here for Atlice that one time.”
Fair enough. “But…I can go in?” I ask Basalt.
“That depends.” Basalt sends another puff curling into the sky. What is he smoking, anyway? He and the pipe are both made of rock.
Not important.
