Steal the Wind (Godstone Saga 1)

There were only three things about the room that stood out.

The first were the double doors. Both were more than a foot thick, made of a strange combination of stone and steel. Each door required two men to move them to allow for the queen’s daily visits.

Then, of course, were the six men who guarded the room. Two stood on either side of the open doors. Two more were in the middle of a long, windowless corridor. And the final two stood at the head of the corridor. No other room in all of the royal towers was more heavily guarded.

And then, finally, was the stone itself, though it didn’t look as he’d always imagined it would. When he’d first heard of the Godstone, he’d expected something more like granite or a chunk of black coal with a tortured face of a god on it.

But this monolith was more like a polished gem of the highest quality. The stone itself was over seven feet tall, five feet across, and several feet deep. It appeared as if the first foot or so into the stone was colored a pale green, but the deeper into the stone he gazed, the darker and murkier it became until its center was nearly black.

Of course, that was nothing compared to the fact that it hovered exactly one foot off the ground. He didn’t know how or why, and he was fine with that. The less his life had to do with the old gods and all their magical interference, the better.

Since coming to serve as Caelan’s bodyguard, he’d accompanied the young prince to the Godstone on several occasions. Caelan never said more than to announce that they were going to see the stone. They’d wordlessly walk to the chamber, and they never spoke while there. Eno would stand near the door and wait for Caelan. Sometimes the prince would circle the stone, frowning, and leave. But there were a few times Caelan leaned against the wall and stared at the stone for an hour or two.

And then, just as suddenly, Caelan would leave with Eno at his side. He’d make some small talk, but they never spoke about the stone, and Eno knew better than to ask. Caelan was largely an open book with him. There was little the prince shied away from talking about, but the stone always felt like one of those forbidden topics.

It was all too personal. More than the crown and the throne, the Godstone was Caelan’s future, his destiny, and his legacy. Eno couldn’t begin to understand that weight on the young man’s shoulders.

Honestly, he was surprised the guards had let him in with such a thin excuse as meeting Caelan there. As far as he knew, the only ones who were permitted in the Godstone room were Caelan and his mother. He’d been in there plenty of other times with Caelan; maybe they just thought he wouldn’t be insane enough to cross the royal family. Not that he wanted to risk Queen Amara’s ire.

But tonight, he’d been willing to take the risk. As he’d been packing, the thought had occurred to him that he needed to go to the stone one last time. He didn’t know why. Guidance? A blessing of the gods—if any of them were actually alive and paying attention? To clear his mind? There certainly wasn’t another place in Stormbreak more quiet than this room.

But now that he was standing there in a silence so complete he could hear only his own heartbeat in his ears, he found himself doubting and wishing more than praying to the gods.

There would be only three of them to keep Caelan safe on this mission. If the Empire discovered he was so thinly guarded, they would undoubtedly sweep in to scoop him up or kill him in an instant.

And what if this were a trap by the royal family of Caspagir? How would they escape from the lion’s den?

If it wasn’t, what did they risk by not going and at least talking to them? Would yet another country fall to the growing power of the Empire?

Eno rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm. There was no doubt in his mind that there were other, more complicated options he wasn’t thinking of yet. He wished he were as smart as Rayne. The man had presented the basics, but Eno had little doubt he’d already worked out far more stratagems that the Empire could be employing as well as what the queen might be thinking and planning. Eno couldn’t help but admire and worry over him.

The slender, elegant man was always so careful not to give too much of himself away emotionally, but Eno had seen it as if it had been shouted at him. This entire trip unsettled Rayne greatly, and that was not a good thing. Unfortunately, Eno couldn’t begin to guess what was bothering Rayne so much.