Monday And Three Quarters
Dear Diary,
Dare and I slog through the narrow caves for hours. Every step feels like I’m pushing through waist-deep snow. My breaths come in plumes of frozen mist. I get so focused on moving forward, I don’t notice when we reach a wall of interlocked bricks. I’ve seen this pattern of stone before—it’s just like the exterior of the Pixieland Citadel.
Which means we’ve reached the Winter Citadel.
Where my father fell.
And Reiver is buried.
I shouldn’t be curious to look inside, but I am.
There are dozens of Citadels of Learning across Faerie. All are round towers with plenty of space for reading and casting spells. Most have fallen into ruin. The Winter Citadel was blasted apart in the attack on Father.
Lots of explosions in my life.
A wooden door hangs on
