Page 134 of Dare
Only one person in this room scoffed at the notion. But Jeryn withheld further judgment and said, “I believe they were eradicated by—”
“A virus,” Aire finished. “They were slain by a virus.”
Jeryn’s eyebrows pinched together. He crossed his arms like a stubborn scientist. “Lucky guess.”
We glanced about, paying homage to the fallen. Carefully, we disbanded and ambled through the tomb, identifying more ancients.
One of them lured me nearer. Because we had been here only once, the prince and I hadn’t noticed half of the people resting throughout the space.
In one of the compartments lay a skeleton wearing a topaz belt. I waved Jeryn over and pointed. “This one,” I said when he approached.
His concentrated gaze narrowed, seeing what I did. “A born soul.”
Before historical propaganda about born souls had spread, some of them had been highly ranked for their extraordinary minds. Those who were, had been given these precious belts. At least, in Summer that had been the case.
“They’re not the only one,” Poet murmured, looming beside another cell where a small body donned the same grand accessory.
Our clan scouted through the hollow, torchlights rippling across the crusted walls. We found more born souls among the humans, faeries, nymphs, and other figures. Jeryn searched for signs of enslavement but found none. Although this wasn’t a surprise given our continental history, it did confirm the tales. Before born souls were persecuted, everyone lived freely. This catacomb proved they’d done so in peace, without a hierarchy.
“They resided here as equals,” Aire reminisced. “I sense as much.”
My lips peeled into a wistful smile. “And look what they made.”
After Jeryn translated my words, Poet intoned, “A castle that has withstood centuries in a rainforest.”
“And functioned soundly,” Jeryn appraised. “It is a valid point. These ruins were built to last, despite environmental hazards.”
“So this society got along fine,” Aspen concluded.
“More than that,” Poet said. “They thrived.”
“The Seasons could not refute such evidence,” Briar insisted. “Poet and I have gained headway making the same case with The Lost Treehouses.” The princess spun my way, reading my thoughts. “This could be what you’ve been looking for.”
My heart clattered. The key to my purpose. I had found it.
41
Flare
But no, that couldn’t be it. Although this discovery felt promising, there was a problem.
My shoulders collapsed. Racing to get my quill and paper from where I’d left them by the door, I penned two words. We can’t.
When everyone balked at me, I shook my head and kept writing. We can’t let the continent know about the ruins.
“Why not?” Aspen galled.
But after a second of contemplation, Poet’s gaze flickered. He knew what I would say. “Fucking Rhys,” he hissed.
Jeryn had caught on as well, his features sharpening. “He would demolish these ruins. He would destroy this proof before it had a chance to circulate.”
Briar’s chin set. “Giselle could oppose him. She’s one half of Summer.”
“We cannot take that gamble. The odds are slim that we can protect the ruins.”
The prince might as well have read my mind. The risk couldn’t be taken if we only had one shot, and that shot would be taken in the dark. Giselle might spurn her husband, but that didn’t mean she disagreed with his intolerance.
She would leash the king to avoid war. But she wouldn’t stop him from decimating the ruins, if it meant the continent kept its so-called property. Even if her heart had softened a fraction, the queen would fear the consequences of a liberated society. The breakdown of her nation.