The Merchant Emperor by Elizabeth Haydon Read Free Book Online Page B

been following was emanating from six huge chandeliers, each large enough to light the ballroom of a palace. The chandeliers were dark except for a few candleless flames burning dispiritedly where thousands had once gleamed.
    Their dim illumination cast little light on what at first Melisande thought were piles of coal and stones, but upon more careful investigation turned out to be masses of gems in every color of the rainbow. She held the glowing spore aloft, and the faint rays illuminated mountains of coins in gold, copper, silver, platinum, and rysin, a rare green-blue metal she had seen only once before.
    Her gaze returned to the distant ceiling. The chandeliers were fashioned from the ship’s wheels from hundreds of vessels. Melisande began to shiver. Her father, Lord Stephen Navarne, would have given anything to have beheld this place, stocked as it was with the history of their people, the Cymrian nation that had fled the cataclysm that would claim their homeland, the Island of Serendair, to come to this place in ships which often did not survive the voyage. The few treasures he had lovingly preserved in the museum he maintained at their keep at Haguefort had caused his blue eyes to gleam with excitement. Looking around, Melisande could only imagine how thrilled he would have been to actually see the wreckage of the First Fleet himself.
    Unlike her father, she found such things terrifying.
    The dark mountains of coins were piled high in captain’s chests and hammocked in massive sails strung from ropes that were moored to the walls of the cave with rigging hardware. Wrecked prows and decks of ships loomed throughout the cavern, as did anchors, masts, and several salt-encrusted figureheads. The eyes of the wooden women adorning those figureheads seemed to stare at her in the dark.
    In the center of the great cave was the lagoon of salt water Rhapsody had described, complete with waves that rolled gently to the muddy edges. She could see shapes and shadows of more objects displayed within the waves like offshore rocky formations, but the darkness was too deep to make out what they were.
    She did not see what she had expected to find, the enormous shadow of an injured dragon.
    “Elynsynos?” she called again. Her voice echoed up and around the gargantuan cave, repeating the beast’s name over and over.
    Elynsynos? Elynsynos? Elynsynos? Elynsyn—Elyn—El—en—sin—
    No sound answered her.
    I heard her, she thought, fighting back panic as cold sweat sprang from her, leaving her feeling faint. I know I did.
    Rhapsody’s voice spoke softly so that it echoed off the surface of the water and vibrated in the ripples it made.
    If she is missing, when you report to Gavin, tell him to seal the cave. There is great treasure there, much of it not readily recognizable.
    “No,” Melisande whimpered aloud. “Don’t tell me she’s not here. I’ve come such a long way. Maybe she’s just hiding. Please, please, don’t tell me she’s gone.”
    “Elynsynos?” she called again, her voice sounding thin and desperate.
    The cave thudded with empty silence.
    If that lair is plundered, it would mean even greater woe to the continent than it will have already experienced with her loss, said the magical voice. And take nothing, Melisande—not even a pebble. To do so would be a desecration.
    Her own voice spoke aloud in answer, repeating the words she had said to the Lady Cymrian.
    I understand.
    I know you do. Rhapsody’s answer had been soft with sorrow, and now it was even more mournful, echoing off the dark walls, drowning in the gently lapping waves. Understand this as well—if through your efforts Elynsynos is found and restored to health, you will be doing this continent one of the greatest services that has ever been done it. And even if it is too late—even if it is, you will be safeguarding more than I can possibly explain.
    I’m ready, her own voice replied in her ear, as it had on that night in winter.
    “No