Months had passed without another Tween World rendezvous between Silverthorn and Amber. At least Electrum wasn’t aware of any. Everything was calm. The quiet made him uneasy. He hadn’t figured out Silverthorn’s plan yet. With the eclipse just a couple weeks away, he was sure it wouldn’t be a secret much longer.
He hovered outside Silverthorn’s room and knocked. It was early morning. The prince should be in class with Sterling, if he wasn’t holed up in the library.
When there was no answer, he pulled back a corner of the door tapestry. No one. He stepped inside. The remains of breakfast littered the table and a rumbled blanket hung off the hammock. As usual the prince had not taken time to straighten his room. He wondered briefly if Amber was aware of the prince’s casual attitude toward housekeeping.
There was no sign of Gilder’s box or the gold dust. The shelf had been wiped clean. Familiar trinkets filled the shelves bringing back memories of exploring together when Silverthorn was a tad.
He could just make out the faded image on a tarnished metal disk that filled one of the niches. They had found it on Silverthorn’s first trip to the Tween World. On another shelf, a blue feather was lodged between a river rock and a shell. Annoyed with himself, he turned to leave. This wasn’t the way to do things.
Out of habit, he straightened the bedding. When he tugged on the blanket the edge caught, tangled in a gold tassel on a scroll. Herbal Remedies and Lore was printed on the outside in gold letters.
He tried to think back to his studies on Gold Realm literature when he was a tad. It was such a long time ago, and there wasn’t much to remember. His teachers had not thought the gold libraries harbored any unique knowledge.
Obviously Silverthorn felt differently and was willing to reach beyond accepted teaching. There wasn’t much time to discover what quackery he was desperate enough to try. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be just the prince that was affected. Both Amber and himself would be dragged along into the middle of whatever scheme he had in mind.
He shoved the scroll back under the bed and mussed up the blanket. When he scanned the corridor, a slender, awkward figure was approaching. Gilder. The sprite’s attention was focused on the small package he carried. Without looking up, he turned into the library.
Electrum stepped from the doorway. Time to get some answers. Gilder must know something. He burst into the library ready to confront the young sprite. The door tapestry fell in place behind him, and Electrum looked about puzzled. It was empty.
He slid back the lamp cover letting light into the room. A thin trail of glittering gold dust led under the table. Curious, he lifted the carpet edge. A twisted rope handle was attached to a trap door.
His fingers closed around the rope, but he hesitated. Then with sudden determination he gave it a strong tug. It flew open. He lost his balance, and sat down hard. An opening gaped before him. From its depths came moist air with a damp, earthy smell. Several steps led down to a platform.
He covered the lamp and darkness settled over the room with only a faint light shining up from the shaft. He backed down the steps. Standing on the platform, he lowered the door into place over his head. In all his years at the palace he had never heard even a rumor about this chamber.
He now stood at the top of a vertical tube. Below him, wooden steps were suspended from ropes attached to the walls. Dim glowstones gave out enough light for him to make out other platforms below, but he couldn’t see the bottom.
The first step had a springy feel. He clutched the railings and slowly made his way to the next platform.
He was heavier than Gilder and hoped the ropes would hold him. If they gave way, the tube was too narrow to spread his wings. The steps swayed and bounced beneath him. It was like the time he had tried to walk across his hammock as a tad.
As he passed the platforms, his eyes became adjusted to the dimness. Finally, he reached the bottom and stood on hard dirt. Tangled tree roots twisted over his head and burrowed into the dirt walls. He was outside the tree. Glowstones on the ground outlined a tunnel that extended several feet before turning. There was no other exit.
At first the ground was level, but then it began to slant upward. He had to duck to avoid low hanging roots. His hat brushed the ceiling releasing a shower of fine dirt. He shook it off leaving sparkles on the path.
The incline was steep enough to make him pant. Even though the air on his face was cool, he was beginning to sweat. Maybe his friends were right about his plush life in the palace.
After walking what felt like about half an hour, the tunnel opened into a small room. He faced a closed door with a plank across it.
In the middle of the door at eye level was a small window with a grate covering. A plant hung on the outside with spreading vines that draped down and curled around and through the bars. Its leaves shivered with a passing breeze that carried the smell of water and fish.
The wooden plank across the door barred entry from the outside. One end was attached to the door and the other was cradled in a carved niche on the wall. The end attached to the door was weighted and rotated on a pin. It was easy to lift the plank out of the wall holder. When he let go, the weight made it fall slowly back into place.
Pressing his face against the grate he peered out. Between the leaves he saw a cluttered storage yard. Several sprites were hauling and stacking empty barrels and crates.
Not wanting to be seen, he stepped away from the door. Next to a dark patch on the wall, a small pile of dirt littered the floor as if it had fallen from the ceiling. The wall felt gritty and hard under his fingers.
He pressed against the dark patch. With a surprised cry he plunged through the wall. His eyes squeezed shut. He threw up his hands. Stumbling into emptiness he barely caught his balance. When he opened his eyes, he was in another tunnel. From this side the opening was obvious, and he could see clearly into the room with the barred door.
He started down the new tunnel. In the glowstone’s dim light, it was hard to see the low hanging tree roots. The floor was uneven and sloped downward. Rounding a bend, he glanced down. Too late, he saw a large crate. His foot slipped on loose pebbles, and he fell sprawling over the lid.
He ran his hand over its surface. Remnants of the Gold Realm Council Seal still clung to the latch. This must be one of Simon’s crates. He brushed himself off and heaved it open.
Soft cloths and reed pods covered the bottom. Expensive packing material he thought. Someone had taken great care to make sure whatever was in the crate was not damaged during shipment. Did Sterling know about the contents in the crates? Did he know about the trap door in the library?
He had spent enough time here already. Now he had to find the quickest way back and make sure the trap door was hidden.
He lowered the lid and brushed himself off. It was just a short walk back to the small room and once again he was looking through the window. The sprites had left. He could fly back to the library and not have to risk opening the trap door without knowing who was on the other side.
He peered through the leaves again. No one in sight. Sliding up the bar, he pushed the door open and stepped through. It swung closed behind him and the plank fell into place with a soft thump.
Multiple cracks in the wall on the outside blended with the door’s outline making it invisible. The plant hid the window completely.
It felt good to stretch his wings after the tunnel’s confinement. From the air he could see the Silver Gate below. He flew toward the Palace Tree’s top platform.