Belle was familiar with the Salacia women because the two daughters, ages twenty-five and twenty-seven, had attended every one of Richard’s Primaspectalias. Ever. Belle was pretty sure that the only reason neither daughter had ever married was that they were hoping that one day the prince would finally notice them, and they wanted to stay available for when that moment finally came.
Qatra Salacia, mistress of Sky House and Lady of Toll, was herself a charming, beautiful, confident woman—who was also obscenely rich. She was a somewhat controversial figure within the nobility due to her dubious path to Sky House. As Belle understood it, she had come out of nowhere with two daughters whose father or fathers she never spoke of, and married the late Lord Salacia.
Though Lord Salacia already had his own heir, a daughter around the same age as Qatra’s, he raised her daughters as his own, gifting them the name Salacia. It was the name of the family who had owned the Elleipsium mines since long before the crown had realized the potential uses for the metal. As owners of the only known source of Elleipsium on the entire continent, maybe the entire world, the Salacia name carried great power.
When, some years after the Lord’s marriage to Qatra, he passed away, his own daughter mysteriously disappeared. It left Qatra with full, uncontested control of Toll and all its piles upon piles of Elleipsium-tainted money and power. Of course the other nobles told a thousand wild stories of the true heir’s fate—Qatra had killed her husband, but let her own daughters be the ones to kill their step-sister. The daughter was being held prisoner in a dungeon in Sky House. She had run off to join the Traitor Prince in rebellion. She had been condemned to work the mines and was still there, biding her time to rise up and take back her title—and so on.
These rumors would have wrecked anyone else, but Lady Qatra, the same way she had charmed her way into Sky House, charmed her way through the nobility until she had respelled every complaint into a compliment.
As the sun was setting, Lady Qatra and her escorts waited just inside the city bounds to personally welcome the Crown Prince to Toll. Though Belle had seen Lady Qatra from a distance many times, this would be her first up-close look at the woman’s magic, and Belle was eager to get a solid read on the woman who had bewitched Lushale’s nobility.
But—she immediately got distracted by the great daybeast Lady Qatra sat astride.
No beasts, day or night, lived this close to the Elleipsium, and the terrain of the mountain was difficult for horses to manage, so they’d had to bring in Great Orox—enormous, fuzzy, horned, goat-like creatures that climbed rocky cliffs with sure, cloven feet—from further south on the mountain range. It had been years since Belle had seen an orox, and she’d never seen a Great Orox up close, only from a distance when the circus had been traveling through the mountains.
While Lady Qatra and her entourage welcomed their guests to Toll, Belle searched the Orox’s magic—it was strong, in beautiful cool tones to match the mountain terrain, but unlike the still, unmoving mountain, the Orox’s magic vibrated. Actually, the magics of all those standing before them seemed to buzz and shudder—it was difficult for Belle to read, and she felt a headache building when she tried to focus on their magics too long.
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While Lady Qatra, Richard, and Z made their introductions, Belle watched as that agitated yet subtle vibration began to infect their magics and spread through the newcomers. It seeped through Richard’s magic, to Deacon’s, through the guards, until it touched her own magic. A tremor bled through her magic, and Belle’s pulse quickened. Seemingly out of her control, thoughts began to swirl in Belle’s head. Random, ridiculous thoughts with no thread connecting them.
Belle remembered she was supposed to be reading Lady Qatra’s magic, and tried to soothe her tumbling mind and refocus her attention—but by then, introductions had been made and Richard and Z were being ushered into very small, light carriages (more like carts, really) drawn by more Great Orox, and the rest of them were left behind to walk.
The city of Toll was an odd place. Though it was situated just outside the Elleipsium’s influence, where magic could still be practiced, the effects of that magicless pit on the far side of the mountain could still be felt. Nothing grew here. The river that cut through the city shone through with rainbow ripples, and while it was beautiful to look at, the signs posted all up and down its shores reminded the citizens not to drink the water. Even the air was hard to breathe, though Belle thought that could just be the elevation.
Everything was painted, as if that could make them forget they were stranded on this dead mountain. The steep roads and walkways were painted cheery yellow, the rock gardens stained a hundred different shades of green, the enormous stone houses that would make half the inner circle of Broken Earth weep with jealousy were every color imaginable, and any bridges were a vibrant red. In the oranges and pinks and purples of the sunset, the city was beautiful, if strange.
And yet, the citizens—guards who oversaw the mines and their families—walked around like the sparkling gemstones and precious metals that hung from their necks weighed almost more than they could manage. The bright colors were never bright enough.
Toll was a palace built upon a mountain of corpses, and the citizens seemed to hope this newest coat of paint would finally cover the stench.
It wasn’t that the city itself generated its wealth, but that it was piped in from Aran’s own purse. The queen knew well how to wield both carrot and stick—the guards stationed at Toll made better money even than her own Royal Guard did. That was how she enticed them in. And once she had them here, it was threat of damnation to work the mines themselves that kept them from leaving.
And still, the turnover rate of this city, these guards, was alarmingly high. About ninety-percent every year—and that ten-percent who stayed had served here decades. They no longer showed any interest in a life beyond Toll.
All of this Belle knew before stepping foot in Toll, but being here made it so much more real.
The magic that vibrated through this city, buzzing with Everything in stark contrast to that great big Nothing below, made Belle’s head swim.
By the time Belle, Jac, and the rest of those who had been left to climb the city on foot, made it to Sky Estate, the welcome feast in Prince Richard Lucian Earthbreaker’s honor was beginning.