Throne of Leaves by Ashley Capes

Author:Ashley Capes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epic fantasy adventure book, epic fantasy series, fantasy hero, sarcastic hero, gods, magic blood
Publisher: Close-Up Books
Published: 2021-12-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

City-Sedrin contained more forasa symbols than Never had expected – within the city and the palace, along the outskirts of the city too – and most seemed extra responsive, giving accurate impressions of their location.

One offered a view of bluestone towers stretching high above the walls, flags of green, the silver tree upon their centre; the images seemed more current compared to some of the other locations he could have travelled. Another symbol would have taken them to stone piers, filled with river craft, the impression of white sails and rigging strong.

But the symbol he deemed best included a view of the towers and central domes of the palace, graceful balconies and walkways stretching between like works of art, the sparkling tops of each dome threaded with quartz.

The view from Olivor’s tower? Hopefully.

Yet the more Never focused on the forasa with his mind, the more an unseen force seemed to rebuff him. Yet not with violence, it was more of an urge. It wanted him to wait?

“Found one, yet?” Rikeva asked where she paced beside him, steps echoing in the cool, dark of the shrine.

“I believe so...”

“But?”

Never opened his eyes and again, kept half his attention on the map of forasa. Indistinct shapes interfered with his vision but he was able to see Rikeva well enough. “It feels like the forasa wants me to wait.”

“All of them?”

“No, just the one that I’ve chosen.”

She sighed. “And it’s truly a better option that the others?”

“It puts us right in the palace, which is quicker than –” Never stopped. The block on the forasa was gone. He held out his arm. “We can leave.”

Rikeva took his hand and the bright light blazed.

When it cleared, they stood within Olivor’s tower – the same comfortable armchair overlooked a window, which in turn offered a view of the rest of the palace and its quartz domes, along with a huge courtyard below.

The same cluttered table and shelves greeted Never. Rows of vials and pots and delicate instruments that may or may not have been connected to the Amouni too, and a chandelier that he hadn’t noticed from his last visit hung from the roof which, oddly, had been painted black.

“I hear footsteps,” Rikeva said.

From beyond the door, the sound of slow footfalls descending reached him. Had that been the reason the symbol couldn’t be used? Someone in the room, standing on the forasa, perhaps? Never strode to the door and opened it to call into the dim stairwell, the nearest window obviously hidden around a bend.

“Olivor, is that you by chance?” he called in Hanik.

The footfalls stopped and the man’s scratchy voice rose – but it was also the twin voice Never recalled from their escape from the palace, a soothing, agreeable undercurrent. “Reveal yourself.”

And despite the power in the man’s voice, Never could have answered in any way he chose. Of course, there was no need to attempt deceit but his Amouni lineage was obviously enough to resist. “Olivor, it’s Never. I need your help.

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