Chapter 155: [155] Knives Out
Xavier adjusted the fine blue tunic one final time as he followed the servant through corridors that belonged in a dream rather than a fortress. The volcanic stone walls were polished to mirror perfection, embedded with crystal formations that cast dancing shadows in the warm light. Tapestries depicting ancient battles hung between carved archways, while the floor beneath his boots was inlaid with patterns that seemed to shift and flow like liquid fire.
The clothing they’d provided transformed him completely. Gone was the blood-stained survivor who’d stumbled through Hearthome’s gates. In his place stood someone who could pass for minor nobility—the deep blue fabric brought out his altered eye color, while the gray cloak suggested wealth without ostentation. Even his boots had been replaced with soft leather that made no sound against the stone.
But beneath the finery, the Soul Mark burned cold between his shoulder blades, a constant reminder that appearances meant nothing to ancient powers that measured time in eons.
The servant stopped before massive double doors carved with flame motifs. "The High Burner’s private dining hall," he announced, bowing slightly. "You are expected."
Xavier nodded his thanks and pushed through the doors into a chamber that took his breath away.
The room was intimate despite its grandeur—perhaps thirty feet square, with a domed ceiling that captured and amplified the warmth from volcanic vents hidden in the walls. A single table dominated the center, set for six with crystal goblets and silverware that caught the light from a chandelier carved from a single massive crystal. Steam rose from discrete vents around the room’s perimeter, creating an atmosphere that felt more like a tropical garden than a winter fortress.
Three people were already seated, and Xavier’s world stopped.
Calypso sat between two men at the far side of the table, her wine-red hair catching the crystal light like liquid fire. The purple eyes that met his across the room held the entire universe—recognition, longing, relief, and something deeper that made his chest tight with emotion he couldn’t name.
She was magnificent.
The gown she wore was midnight blue silk that made her skin glow like porcelain, cut in elegant lines that somehow managed to be both modest and devastating. Garnets at her throat caught the light with each breath, while her hair was arranged in an elaborate style that left her neck bare except for wisps of red that had escaped their pins.