Read Online Bound by Roses (The Bound Series Book 1) by Jonathan Lazar - Free Book Online

preparing to strike as snakes do. She knew she needed to be cautious, even more with Zhan’ding in ruin. Once the last Minister had left the chamber and the door closed with a resounding click, Marguerite turn her attention back to the Captain,
    “There is much to do, and little time.”
    Captain Iritis waited to speak as well, “How can I be of additional service, Lady White?”
    “In addition to securing Zhan’ding, I will be relying on you to secure the lands beyond. Train all you need. I feel that it is we who must now keep the Wolves under control.”
    “Zhan’ding’s territory is expansive, Lady White,” Iritis’ hands spread apart as he spoke.
    “I know it is,” Marguerite stood and adjusted her gown, “we will have to start small. Zhan’ding first.”
    “Understood. Anything else?”
    “No. Return to Zhan’ding. Secure it. Then return for me.” Captain Iritis bowed, and rushed as fast as he could, armor clanked loudly.
    Marguerite stared at the table as she climbed the stairs. She felt compelled to stare at images that no longer existed. Images of Zhan’ding burned into her mind. The broken body of Saledii, heartbreaking but that too engraved into her mind. She wanted to cry, but there was no time to grieve. She needed answers.
    Marguerite sped her way to the tower of the Seven; the wisest men she knew and respected that always awaited her questions. They would have the answers she needed. The stone tower always seemed darkened in the early afternoon by the shadow of Ashok Orai’s High Tower. Through the silent white stone courtyard, Marguerite approached and entered.
    Aged yellow candles lit the windowless spiral staircase. Wax drippings cascaded like waterfalls downwards. The wax pooled along the steps. Marguerite’s eyes stared at each brightly intense flame. Her mind wondered by what magic kept the candles from ever needing to be replaced. They dripped and melted, but never seemed to grow smaller. She stared until her eyes grew sore from the light. The thought did not last long when she turned away. It never did when it came to things of magic to her. Magic was the work of her Mother, and something she wanted nothing to do with. For it never brought her happiness.
    The stone steps ended at a meticulously carved wooden door. Upon its ancient grained surface were seven hooded and robed individuals, shorter in stature than a normal man. They stood within a forest. Some looked up, others looked down. None had the same gesture as another. Woodland creatures danced and pranced around them. Sparkling jewels, fresh from the mines, were placed like stars in the sky. She had seen this door countless times over the years, yet the gemstones never lost their luster or sheen.
    Marguerite stood on the second to last step. Her shadow danced upon the door. Cast from the dim light of candles behind her. Her heart always beat fast, and stomach became a knot before she saw the Seven. Before she could knock, the door opened of its own accord. Billowing tendrils of multicolored smoke, that smelled sweetly of cedar wood and sage greeted her sinuses. The tendrils wrapped around her. They beckoned her into the room. They pulled her in past the door.
    “Ah, our dear Snow White, please, enter,” an earthy voice enticed from beyond the threshold.
    Marguerite entered the room lit only by a glowing pool of water in its center. The tendrils faded to mist at her feet. The water churned out multicolored bubbles that floated upwards to the high ceiling before popping. There they produced the multicolored smoke that greeted her senses. While much sank down and hung around the pool like fog. Some escaped through holes in the roof. The holes produced great beams of light that lit different areas of the tower. Within each was a book.
    Each book, eight in total, was a different color with beautiful silver gilded edges. The leather covers had a small fairy in either gold or silver upon their surface. Marguerite never asked what the