Aeralis Read Online Free Page A

button concealed among the stones, and the door slid open with a rusty scraping sound. I descended the steps, stopping to feel my way through the dark. I fumbled for the matches I’d left the last time. I struck one against the stone wall, and it flared and sputtered in the darkness. I lit a lantern and sank down among the boxes and stacks of books.
    “I wish you were here, Ma,” I whispered aloud. “Jonn is sick.”
    Silence hung in the space around me, thick as the dark the lantern light kept at bay. My words withered and fell away unheard.
    He was dying, and I was helpless to save him. I would do anything, but there was nothing to be done.
    Sighing, I reached for one of the boxes and lifted the lid to peer inside. It contained stacks of papers, all old documents belonging to my parents. Lists of names, maps, catalogs of supplies. I sifted through them, feeling the brittle paper between my fingers, gazing at the scrawl of my father’s handwriting.
    At the bottom of the box lay a wooden case. I picked it up and turned it over in my hand. A jewelry box—my mother’s jewelry box. Why was it in here with the papers and documents? She’d kept it in her dresser drawer, beneath her underthings and stockings. As a child, I’d loved to sift through the sparkling pieces and rub them until they shone clean. Rings, earrings, all my mother’s treasured family heirlooms. Memories rushed over me.
    My fingers slipped, and the box crashed to the floor. Strands of silver scattered. Brooches tumbled out. I righted the box quickly, carefully replacing each piece.
    Something protruded from the corner of the box where the velvet lining was pulling away from the wood. A paper of some sort. The fall of the box must have dislodged it.
    I tugged gently at the scrap, and a folded square of paper slid into my hand.
    A letter.
    I unfolded it and scanned the first line.
     
    My dearest Lia, Jonn, and Ivy ,
     
    I stopped. My heard pounded. This letter was meant for us.
    I unfolded the rest of the paper and spread the sheet out on my lap. My lips moved as I read the words silently.
     
    There is something you need to know, something I’ve not yet had the courage to tell you.
    First, let me tell you a story.
    Lia and Jonn—when you both were small, before Jonn’s injury, before Ivy was even born, a fugitive found his way to our farm. He was Aeralian, running from the injustice of a wrongful accusation. This was before the royal family had been deposed, before the Aeralians became the Farthers we know today. He was from a farm on their plains, a man who loved woods and sky and snow as much as any Frost dweller. We granted him refuge, and he lived in our barn. He even helped us build the secret room that lies below the floor, a place where he could live in safety.
     
    I stopped reading and looked around me at the room in wonder.
     
    Your father was always fascinated with the remains of the Weaver legacy that we’ve written about in the journals. He began uncovering ruins, making maps, finding books and inventions that he could not understand. He would make long trips into the Frost, searching for answers, uncovering everything he could find. The Frost held many treasures, many secrets, and he found many of them.
    Then, one day more than a month after the fugitive had joined our little farm, your father
     
    The rest of the letter was missing. I turned it over, but there was nothing written on the other side. I examined the jewelry box and sifted through the papers I’d found it with, but there was no sign of the rest of the letter.
    I folded the paper and slipped it into my pocket as the words swirled in my mind, haunting me.
    There is something you need to know, something I’ve not yet had the courage to tell you.
    What was it?
     
     

THREE
     
     
    THE JOURNEY BACK to Iceliss melted into a blur as the sharp white of snow and the jagged cuts of green spun around me. My mother’s words sparked in my brain, and with every remembrance, my