Nym's Arc

Chapter 39 of 41

The great door swung wide, and Nym stepped into a courtyard of pale stone. Purple ivy climbed the walls. Runes glowed under her palm and answered from the arch above. She felt them calling, as if the castle knew her blood. She reached out and touched the cool stone of the inner arch. Then cold steel pressed against her neck. She froze. A voice like grinding rock spoke behind her. "No one passes. We wait for the King." Nym turned her eyes without moving her head. Two giants of living stone flanked the arch. Moss grew thick on one, a green beard on the other. One held an axe. The other held a spear against her throat. Their skin was gray granite, cracked and old. They did not blink. They did not shift. They only waited, as they had waited three hundred years. Drasila let go of the pegasus and raised her marked hands. "I know you," she said. "You were much younger then. Granite. Basalt.." The stone guards did not lower their weapons. "We were born to guard these lands and this castle we do that," said the one with the moss beard. Titus dismounted slow, hands open. "Nym," he said. "Don't force it. They break for nothing." His warwolf growled low. He touched its neck to still it. His eyes stayed on the spear at her throat. Nym breathed. She thought of the green cat, of Titus telling her to hold the light gently. Fire would not help her here. Neither would blood. She did not know how they would break from this.