Page 12 of A Castle of Broken Memories

“We appreciate you taking the time to come out.” I smiled around the table as I moved to sit down. Noah was beside me in a flash, pulling the chair out for me before claiming the adjacent one for himself.

Lawrence retrieved a bottle from the sideboard and brought it to the table, stopping at each council member's seat and pouring the crimson liquid into their waiting glasses. I lifted mine as he approached, allowing him to fill it, but gave a slight shake of my head when he shot a questioning glance at Tenebris and Calum.

“What, you all get to drink wine at this thing but we don't?” Tenebris gave me an affronted look. “Not cool, Mari.”

“It's not wine, you idiot,” I whispered, holding the glass in front of my face. “It's blood.”

Tenebris balked, his face tingeing green while he looked at my drink. “And you're going to drink it? Gross.”

“Don't be rude.” I forced a smile for the rest of the table. “And yes, I am. I'm a quarter vampire on my grandfather's side. While it's not my favorite beverage, I can tolerate it better than you would.”

He wrinkled his nose. “At least tell me it’s animal blood.”

I raised a brow.

He narrowed his eyes. “Double gross.”

I shrugged. To each their own, I suppose.

Lawrence filled his glass last, raising it up as he took his seat at the head of the table. “To the health and happiness of all who reside in Mondue.”

“To Mondue,” the others chorused back, lifting their glasses and taking a sip. I followed along, the coppery liquid sliding over my tongue. It'd been years since my last taste of blood, and I had to admit it wasn't as bad as I recalled. It was actually kind of sweet. I took a second sip, savoring the flavor while Lawrence called the meeting to order. After formally introducing the three of us, he read Abuela's letter out loud, and all eyes were fixed on me by the end when I placed Abuela's beans on the table.

“All we ask is for permission to climb the beanstalk.” I looked around the table, meeting each person's gaze with a steely one of my own. Daring them to object. It was a perfectly reasonable request, honorable even, but the older vampires were known for being stubborn when it came to change and Lawrence had already warned me about Noah. There was no guarantee they’d be willing to bend the rules. “Can I count on your support in this?”

Mary, Gareth, and Lotte exchanged looks, and Mary subtly nodded her head. She turned to me with an appraising look. “It's good to see you've learned to listen to your elders. If Elena wants you to do this, we won’t stand in your way.”

I dipped my head in gratitude. “Thank you, Mary. I’m sure my abuela appreciates that.”

A throat cleared at my side, and I turned to see Noah with his hands clasped on the tabletop, his expression pained.

“Noah?” I prompted. “Can I count on your support, as well?”

His jaw clenched as he stared at his hands. “I'm afraid not.”

Lawrence had warned us he'd be a problem, but I'd hoped our past friendship would be enough to derail any objections. I narrowed my eyes. “I realize it’s a risk to rely on the beans for safe passage, but we’re not asking anyone else to take it. No one from Mondue will be harmed.”

He slowly looked up, meeting my gaze. “It’s not just that—although I’ll admit, I am concerned for your safety. No disrespect toward your grandmother, but you’re taking an awful lot on faith here with these… beans.”

I gritted my teeth. “I’ll take the necessary precautions to ensure they work before entering the cloud barrier. I’m not as careless as you seem to think. But mark my words—if Abuela says the beans will work, they’ll work. Elena Cabrera is no fool.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” Noah slapped his hand on the table. “The forest has finally found a semblance of peace, and now you’re suggesting we tear a hole in the barrier separating us from who knows what. We don’t know what happened to the giants or what caused the storm to settle into the clouds, but one thing we can be sure of—it’s nothing good. I’m not just worried about your safety going up the beanstalk, Mariana. I’m terrified of what you’ll allow to come down in your wake.”

Well, he had me there. I didn’t know what we’d find when we passed through the barrier, but given the less-than-inviting state of the storm clouds, I could only assume it wouldn’t be sunshine and rainbows. Death and darkness seemed far more likely. Then again, if things had gone to shit and someone was trapped up there, all the more reason to save them. Isn’t that what heroes did? Rescued innocent strangers from dangerous situations?

“According to Abuela, the barrier will only remain open for an hour, after which it’ll reseal itself. If you’re concerned about something… nefarious… passing through during that time, then why not post guards around the base of the beanstalk? I can leave Tenebris and Calum⁠—”

“Not happening,” Calum interrupted. “If you’re going up that beanstalk, then I’m going to be right beside you. Tenebris can stay and help keep watch with the others.” He glanced at Tenebris, his narrowed eyes softening with concern. “In fact, that might be for the best.”

Tenebris frowned. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“That your arms are like twigs and without your magic, you’re about as useful as a baby goat,” I supplied, keeping my gaze on Noah—who didn’t look the slightest bit appeased by my suggestion as he shook his head.

“We have no idea what kind of beasts could be roaming around up there. There’s no guarantee we could protect ourselves, guards or no guards. It’s far too great a risk to⁠—”

“Chop it down,” I interjected, cutting off his protests. “If some kind of threatening creature tries to come down the beanstalk while we’re up there, then destroy it before they can reach the ground.”

“Um, Mari?” Tenebris whispered. “Won’t that make coming back down kind of, you know, impossible?”