26. Careful, Those Have Teeth
26
CAREFUL, THOSE HAVE TEETH
T he metal of the chamberstick warmed Luella’s palm as she grasped it.
She quietly padded across the cool floors of her room, the flickering light of the candle illuminating her steps and playing with the shadows, casting imposing, menacing figures across the walls. She tried to ignore it—the shake in her limbs still present after the horrors she had seen. The sound of flesh rending from bone, the snap of teeth, the soft whoosh of blades…
After Graves had left her, she had tossed and turned in her bed for what felt like hours, sleep escaping her, her mind too occupied with darkness and shadowed eyes. Secrets.
Too occupied with the beginnings of the plan in her head.
When sleep continued to slip through her fingers like smoke, the sweet relief of dreams lingering somewhere just out of reach, Luella decided to venture into the halls of the castle darkened with night and see if—without one of her captors leading her path—she could retrace her steps to the library.
Libraries held many a secret, Luella knew. They were vast wells of knowledge, ready to be tapped. Bastian had given her a gift by allowing her access to the library. One far grander than he likely assumed.
The gift of history.
She quickly opened her wardrobe and pulled a cloak from within, the material rippling like fine silk: thin and black—perfect for clandestine adventures.
Pulling the cloak around her shivering frame, she tucked her golden hair under the hood, concealing her identity as much as she was able. Her feet were bare, all the better to have silent steps throughout the halls. And where the cloak fell to her mid-thigh, her legs shimmered as the moonlight filtered in through the glass doors of the balcony, casting the brightest of whites against her skin.
Blue veins stood out on the underside of her wrist, and the sight made her heart clench. She used to love the sunshine—spent entire days curled up against the base of a tree as she read and dreamed. The Solis fae have always had a healthy, tanned glow to their skin, and Luella always loved how alive and bright it made her feel. But now she looked like a creature of the moonlight from her stint in the dungeons and captivity in the gilded cage of her room.
Features scrunched with determination, she placed her palms against the door leading to the hall, steeling herself with a deep breath as she slowly pushed it open. A low creak. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. The noise was far too loud in the unnaturally silent wing of the castle.
Carefully, she shut the door behind her; the chamberstick held out before her as she tiptoed along the halls, her other hand tracing along the walls as she willed herself to remember the path to the library.
Further and further, she tiptoed, leaving the wing of the castle she had become accustomed to. Trepidation made her steps slow, and she took in the darkened halls around her. A tapestry on the far wall stood out to her as familiar, and she continued onward. Little alcoves were nestled in deeply shadowed areas, and she imagined wraiths crawling from their depths, shivering as her steps quickened.
At one fork in the hallway, she hesitated, one foot pointed in each direction as she tried to recall which way it was.
Left or right?
Right or left?
Luella veered toward the left, sending up a quick prayer it was the right choice.
As she recognized a few more tapestries and pieces of art—depictions of roaring dragons and valiant warriors—she realized she had chosen correctly. The hallway she had picked led to a lone corridor that stretched on and on. At the very end, an arched doorway, which she knew would open up to the library.
Luella let out a breath of relief and quickly hurried along, eating up the distance until she was before the door, one hand braced against it. She snuck a peak behind her, the hood blocking out her periphery, but she saw nothing, only the long and lone stretch of shadowed darkness. But she was entirely exposed. Someone would only have to walk by the beginnings of the hall, and she would stand out. With that thought in mind, she pushed open the door and entered, her heart rapidly beating.
The door closed behind her, silent as it trapped her inside.
Adrenaline filled her with a rush of elated power. Now for the fun—if slightly daunting—part.
Water from the small fount trickled down to the awaiting pool, the noise welcomed in the quiet room. Her ragged breathing and the steady drip, drip, drip of the water calmed her. The glass dome above rendered her candle unnecessary. The moon shone brilliantly, casting pure, white beams over the leather chairs in the alcoves and the towering shelves along the walls.
"Where do I begin?" The question was but the faintest puff of air.
As Luella looked around, she decided to forgo the shelves toward the front, her sights snagging on the darker, more private rows tucked away in the far corners.
She drifted closer, itching to dive in. Rows upon rows, hidden in the quiet spaces of the library. She cast one last look toward the door, the sole entry and exit. She would have to be quick and vigilant.
"I can do this," she breathed, giving a resolute nod of her head.
The hem of her cloak fluttered behind her as she allowed the towering shelves and shadows to envelop her.
The billowy sleeves of her cloak fell to her elbows as she reached up to pluck a book from a high shelf.
It was heavy in her hands, the spine cracked with age, and the cover worn, lettering faded and unable to be read. The pages crackled under her touch as she flipped it open, the smell musty and the edges of the paper yellowed with time.
She turned each page with reverence. Most books were enchanted to stay frozen and unmarred by age. For this book to be weathered by the passing seasons was only a testament to its power and time spent bound in leather and tucked on a shelf made of wood.
The hope that had welled up within her was dashed with every page turned. Her shoulders fell in dismay. Words of healing potions or spells to tether life forces to another filled the molded pages.
Useful to some, she was sure. But not for her.
She didn’t need a healing spell and had no one she wished to tether her life to.
Luella put the book back and picked up another one. This one pulled from an even higher shelf—so high she had to teeter precariously on a stool to tug it from under the stack it was in. She flopped down on the ground, book in her lap while her cape pooled around her thighs as she leaned back on her hands and huffed a sigh.
"I guess it wouldn’t be so easy, would it?" she whispered in the moonlit library, as if she were asking the books for an answer to the questions that plagued her.
She cracked the new book open—another aged tome—and leafed through the pages with soft touches and trembling fingers.
"Elemental training. Temporarily take the sight of the mage so that they may be better in tune with the elements and work to focus on the magic around them, as well as within them…" Luella mumbled under her breath, curious at the information, but it wasn’t what she was looking for. She turned the page.
As she skimmed the pages, the passage of time made her movements more hurried, too aware of the pounding of her heart inside her chest and the careful silence in the room. She could not be discovered here. "Necromancy. Certainly not." Luella slammed the book closed. "Are all these books about the mages and spells?" she once more asked the silent room.
The only answer was the faint bubbling of water as it pooled into the fount.
She got up and dusted off her knees from the faint coating of dust that had blown from the covers of the books and untouched shelves. Looking about the room, she cast a glance upward to the skylight—the moon was still high, it was the peak time of night. But she still wanted to be back in bed soon. Just in case.
Every moment was one of stolen freedom and jittery nerves, fearful of being found out.
The King was neither a patient male nor a fair ruler. Luella shuddered at the thought of what he would do to her if he found out she had left her room by herself.
She walked further into the alcove of old books.
Perhaps the important ones were further back…
As towering shelves closed around her, a chill settled over her skin. The light of the moon was cut off this far in the maze of tall bookshelves and hidden walls, and she lifted her chamberstick in front of her to illuminate the way.
"Wow." Her breath puffed before her, and a shiver wracked her frame, making her pull the cloak tighter around her shoulders.
Dust shimmered in the faint, warm light from the candlelight, flickering flames casting ghastly shadows, stretching her own shadow tall and thin across the floor. Spires of bronze and gold were set into the walls, adornments that spoke of the castle’s regality. Tall statues stood along corners, perfectly sculpted beings frozen into the marble. She held the candle closer. She didn’t recognize any of the beings the statues were modeled after. A collection of males and females alike. None had arched ears, but all had deadly visages, even through the stone in which they were carved, it was easy to tell that these beings were not to be trifled with.
Her lips parted in awed curiosity. She brushed back the hood of her cloak so she could see more clearly, growing annoyed by the thing. It was slightly big for her frame, but she would not dare remove it.
The statues must be…
"Rulers of Serpentis," Luella mused.
To look upon the aristocracy of the shifter kingdom was not her reason for being here, even as interesting as it was. With her tutors, she had never delved into the history of the varying nobility of the far-off kingdoms. Her knowledge-hungry mind itched to study them and learn of their lives.
Her fingers elegantly danced along the cool marble of a sculpted cheekbone.
Had they been as brutal as the current ruler?
Luella swept her sights away from the statues, trailing by tall stacks of books—so tall she worried at the slightest whisper of wind, they may topple over and crush her to death. With every step further into the maze of shelves, she noted how the air grew impossibly thick. It tickled against her nose, and she stifled the urge to sneeze.
Magic. The air was teeming with it.
The books were even older back here. So old, some of them had vines and green moss growing from some unseen place in the shelves, wrapping around them and mingling with the dust motes coated to the shelves and against their covers.
Her curious perusal was paused as a faint rustling noise pierced the still air.
Luella froze, chamberstick held aloft and one foot outstretched, poised for her next step, as her breath caught in her chest.
Waiting for the noise to sound again, her ears strained in the quiet.
There!
Once more, a faint rustling noise. A sound akin to the rustle of leaves against a forest floor. Luella placed her feet down carefully, moving closer to the source of the noise. It seemed to be coming somewhere from within an especially tall stack of aged tomes. Nudging one of the books away with the tip of her finger, she peeked in the shadowed recesses of the shelves.
And there, she saw it.
A tiny figure, barely the size of her palm, perched upon one of the stacks of books, legs swinging to and fro, gazing up at Luella with sparkling, verdant eyes.
A sprite.
Luella had never seen one before. Even with sprites being native to no particular kingdom, she had never before seen one of the little winged creatures with her own eyes.
She jerked back, holding the chamberstick in front of her as if she could use it as a weapon.
A small and teasing thought welled up inside her mind: as if the little sprite could possibly pose harm?
The creatures were known to be gentle-spirited. She prayed that rang true, while mentally combing through the information she remembered reading of the creatures…
Sprites could be found in any of the elements—Ignis sprites tended to make their homes near fire; Aer sprites in the mountains; bodies of water were typically where the Aqua sprites gathered; and Terra sprites in forests.
This sprite had wings of gossamer silk and hair spun from the same shade as evergreen leaves. A dress made of tree bark covered shimmering, brown skin. A faint coating of leaves fell as the sprite’s head cocked to the side in thought.
"You’re not supposed to be here." The sprite’s voice was light and musical, with a feminine lilt.
"S-sorry," Luella stuttered, holding the chamberstick up so she could see better.
The sprite let out a squeak, a tiny hand covering her eyes. "Do you mind?" It was a hissed demand, the sprite waving away the fire of the candle like she wished to put it out.
"Oh. I’m sorry." Luella placed the chamberstick on a nearby shelf, careful not to put it too close to any books. The light cast her and the sprite in a cover of deep shadows, and Luella’s brow furrowed as she struggled to make out where the tiny creature was sitting.
"Is that all you can say? Sorry ?" The sprite’s tone was laced with a soft, teasing nature, wings rustling and covering the shelves in more leaves.
Luella swallowed the insane urge to laugh. She hadn’t laughed in… well. It had been some time.
"You shocked me," Luella explained. "I didn’t expect anyone to be in here at this time of night."
"Me either. Why are you here?"
"I’m looking for some books. I couldn’t sleep." Luella decided to share a small version of the truth. Honesty was always the better choice when possible so she wouldn’t be outright caught in a lie. "Stories help calm me."
She didn’t focus on how easily her words came. She had been forced to be a stuttering, broken thing around the King and his court. But something about this small creature, this tiny, darkened space—it made her tongue feel looser and her spine straighten with confidence.
"Me too!" The sprite perked up, waving a faintly glowing hand around her. "I love books. All types of books. Books about romance. Books about travel and adventure." As the sprite spoke, she stood and hopped along the covers of the books, hands fluttering before her in excitement.
Luella bit her lip to hide a smile.
"Do you… Do you think you could help me find some books?" Luella hedged.
The sprite twirled. "It depends on the type. Master Tharen tells me not to let anyone near his spellbooks. He can be so stingy sometimes. I ruined the cover of one book with my vines, and he never let me touch them again!"
"Master Tharen?" Was it possible this sprite belonged to the mage?
"Yes. Master Tharen saved me. I was all alone in the woods. I almost got snatched up and eaten by a wolf shifter. My tree had fallen, and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. It was night, and I couldn’t see. I was so scared." The sprite shuddered, tiny hands clenching her arms as she hugged herself. "Master snatched me right up and killed the wolf with his magic. He’s a very strong master. I’m glad he saved me." The sprite beamed up at Luella, showcasing slightly pointed teeth, her little chest was heaving from her words. She had barely taken a breath between them.
It was a lot to digest.
How could the Tharen she knew—cruel and insane—save such an innocent creature?
Luella’s mouth parted in thought, questions niggling at her. She spoke carefully, though. She didn’t know if this sprite would report back to the mage. But Luella was too deep to back out. "Do you have any other masters?"
"No, only Master Tharen. King Vale comes to see me sometimes. He likes to read the boring books. Politics and such. Once, I tried to give him one of my favorite romances, and he never read it." The sprite gasped, flitting forward with the beat of her wings. "Will you read it?"
"Yes," Luella replied. "If you help me, we have a deal." She prayed this would work.
The sprite hummed in thought. "What kind of help?"
Luella wasn’t sure what she was looking for exactly. History, politics, anything that could help her better understand King Vale and the secrets she knew he was hiding. "I need to find a book on history. Serpentis history. Anything arcane. Even older than these," Luella said, gesturing to the aged tomes around them. She crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping the sprite wouldn’t ask why some mysterious, cloaked female would be searching for arcane history books in the dead of night.
The stories of sprites being naive and gentle could work in her favor.
The sprite nodded, rubbing a small hand through her hair, the ends brushing her dainty shoulders, and she turned her head to look further into the towering maze of shelves before looking back to Luella with sparkling, verdant eyes.
She hummed, before saying, "How can I help you if I don’t know your name? I’m Nyxila. But you can call me Nyx. Master Tharen does." The sprite extended a small hand out to her, and Luella touched her tiny hand with the tip of her finger in greeting.
Luella paused, her name on the tip of her tongue. Maybe it would be best not to share it. Just in case Nyx knew of Solis and held some grudge—it seemed everyone she had met thus far did. "I’m Lu."
Her heart seized at the name, at the memory of the demon who had given it to her.
She was doing this for Az. And for herself. To save them both.
With an impish grin, Nyx hopped off the stack of books. Twin dimples appeared on her cheeks, and Luella tried not to coo at the sight. "It’s a deal then, Lu. Come with me." Nyx flew through the shelves, wings beating behind her, barely giving Luella any time to follow.
Luella picked up her chamberstick, careful to keep it away from the sprite.
"How do you know Master Tharen?" Nyx asked, flitting about the shelves at such a pace it was hard for Luella to keep track. Every time she thought she had the sprite in her sights, Nyx popped up somewhere else.
Luella ducked under a thick tangle of vines that crawled between shelves. At least now she knew the source—sprites were connected to the elements, similar to the face, but could barely wield any magic besides growing flowers, twirling water in their hands, tiny sparks of flame, or conjuring up whirlwinds of air and puffy white clouds. Nothing harmful.
"Why do you think I know him?" Luella asked, a shiver wracking her frame the further she ventured, the magic thick as it pressed down on her shoulders. It was too cold.
The maze of shelves seemed to never end. Enchanted, no doubt.
Nyx huffed and perched on a nearby shelf, legs swinging. It put her at eye level with Luella, and she avoided the verdant gaze of the sprite.
"You looked odd when I mentioned his name." For such a small creature, Nyx was rather intuitive and sharp.
"I do know him," Luella said. "But not… well." She couldn’t admit the mage had captured her, not without alerting the sprite that Luella wasn’t exactly here in Serpentis by choice.
Nyx hummed, pointing toward a little passageway nestled between three shelves; it was small, and Luella had to duck to enter it, turning her body sideways to fit.
"I bet he likes you," the sprite said.
Luella stumbled, thighs scraping against the shelves. "What makes you say that?"
"How could he not? You’re very pretty. Master Tharen always likes the pretty ones. Once, I went to his room to give him a book he asked for, and I caught him in his bed with three pretty shifters—they weren’t as pretty as you, though."
Luella blushed.
She was saved from responding to that particular piece of information when Nyx stopped, wings beating like a hummingbird as she splayed open her arms. "Here we are."
Here seemed to be a small enclosure, trapped between rough, stone walls and shelves stuffed full of books. It was dank, and dust particles floated in the light coming from the candle. The air smelled old like no one had been here for a very long time. Vines curled around the floor, and she stepped carefully in the few clear spots she could find. Teetering, Luella placed a hand on the wall to steady herself. It was slippery with slime and green goo that almost looked like algae. She wondered how water could mildew the walls if the only source was the small waterfall and pool, far away toward the front of the library.
She inhaled, nose tingling as she scented the air with her less-than-stellar fae sense of smell. Petrichor and brine. Like rain and the salty sea combined. There must be a source of water around.
Luella fingered the slippery algae on the walls, her cloak shrouding her peripheral as she peeked at Nyx. "Is there water around?"
"There’s a network of tunnels and caves underground. They used to be dragon dens and snake pits many moons ago, but some still use them to store their hoards. There are little passageways tucked all over the kingdom, some are known, others not. There have been stories of shifters falling into the holes and disappearing." The sprite shivered in fear, leaves falling around her as she shook her tiny head. "Master Tharen tells me to be careful going deep into the library, says there are passages in here. That’s why I don’t come this way a lot."
The sprite was a well of information, and Luella was grateful.
A tiny glimmer of a plan sparked. Maybe if she could find the passageway, she could use it to escape.
Luella would rather risk being trapped in the tunnels than spend the rest of her days in captivity.
Better to die free than live caged.
"These caves. Have you seen one?"
Nyx hummed in an affirmative, an elegant finger stretching out to point to a particularly high collection of shelves, the books held within teetered precariously, thick cobwebs clinging to the sides of the shelves and attaching to the wall. She craned her head up, up, up, watching the faintest tendrils of her firelight seep into the darkness, catching the dust motes floating in the air.
Luella followed the direction of the sprite’s finger but saw nothing. Her mouth popped open, ready to question her, but Nyx pressed a tiny palm to her lips, drifting in the air as her legs kicked out.
"Stay away," Nyx implored. "There." Her arm was still outstretched.
"There’s…" Luella grew wary. "One of these tunnels is nearby?"
"Yes. Hidden behind that shelf. I hoped you wouldn’t stumble upon it." Nyx held both hands before her, a shudder wracking her small frame, leaves drifting around her shoulders. "Please stay away from it."
"Is it dangerous?"
The sprite shook her head. "It’s cold. The chill seeps into your bones. Better to stay away. So long as we do not mess with it, I don’t think anything—or anyone—will mess with us."
That was… Luella bit her lip so hard she tasted the slightest tang of iron. Her eyes grew wide as she cowered away from the towering shelf. Those tomes held within its midst suddenly the only thing keeping her safe; a barrier of paper and ink.
But—
"You have never ventured into it?"
"Never," Nyx harshly said.
On trembling legs, Luella pressed a hand to the stone wall. Her steps were unsteady and hesitant, and with a bated breath, her fingers curled into the side of the bookcase. Dust tickled her nose, and the air was chilled with a heavy stillness.
"Lu," the sprite whispered. "What are you doing?"
Luella ignored her, and slowly, she peeked around the corner of the shelf. She didn’t know what she thought she would see. Wraiths spilling out of dark corners, an opened maw of shadows, or bony hands reaching out of nothingness… But what Luella saw was none of those things.
A small, seemingly inconsequential hole was cut into the stone walls. It was thin and short but still larger than her. It looked almost like an entryway without a door, leading to nowhere. Or everywhere.
Icy tendrils of air swept out of the depths of the cave, kissing her cheeks and mingling with her golden curls. The scent of pine trees and sea salt brushed against her skin, and she inhaled deeply.
It smelled like freedom.
The corner of her lips curved up into a soft smile.
And Luella knew what she must do.
The sprite had grown quiet in her anger.
After Luella had drawn away from the sight of the cave, tamping down her smile and turning it into a thing of unease, Nyx had huffed and grumbled, calling Luella all sorts of things.
She had ignored it all, hiding her tiny laughs of amusement behind her palm. The sprite was adorable when she was mad.
Luella pulled a book from a nearby shelf. It was thin, yet so heavy she almost dropped it. The pages fell open, but no words were written. It was blank. Luella turned the page, only to find the same on the next and the next. Nothing.
"All of these are enchanted. Be careful. Those have teeth," Nyx said, inclining her head toward a smaller collection of leather-bound books. As Luella looked, she swore she almost heard a growl emit from them. Luella scooted away.
It was as she pulled out another book, she felt it.
A tug coming from deep within her gut—the same place she cursed almost every day, that magicless pit that had caused her so much angst ever since she had been a babe.
Luella followed that tug, ignoring Nyx’s curious eyes as she crouched, hands and knees against the damp, stone ground as she peered at the very bottom of the shelf. From this close to the ground, the smell was odious. Her nose twitched, and she held her breath.
None of the books had words on the spines. Sometimes, words simply weren’t enough. So Luella was left to follow that pull in her gut as her eyes swept over the empty spines.
One in particular—a muted purple cover with etchings of rosy gold swirling over the side—caught her attention. Luella hesitantly pulled it from the shelf. With thoughts of sentient tomes and gnashing teeth made of paper and leather, trepidation sank into the marrow of her bones; tingles shot up her palm as she gripped it. Luella sat back on her heels, resting the closed book on her lap. It was small and short. The cover was as pretty as the spine. The edges, gilded with metal borders.
Without warning, the cover opened, and the pages flipped like ghostly hands were turning them. Luella gasped, looking up at Nyx, who was already watching the scene unfold with rapt attention.
"It likes you." The sprite cocked her head.
As quickly as it had begun, the turning of the pages stopped, revealing a singular page with words written in a looping scrawl.
"Handwritten?" Luella mumbled. It must be a journal of some kind…
Following along with her finger, Luella read the first line. "'The Umbra will not stop. No one can save us now. I cry for the lives of my fallen companions. All I seem to do these days is grieve and fight. When will it ever end? They grow closer every day. He and his shadowed army advance even now while I lay tucked in bed, desperate for dreams to take me somewhere else. I don’t know how much longer we can—'" The words stopped there, as if the writer had given up all hope mid-thought.
Umbra. That word again. The same word that she had overheard Graves and Bastian say.
"'He and his shadowed army of Umbra , ’" Luella repeated. Fingers trailing over the page, she took note of how the line was written darker than the others, as though the author had born down against the page with their quill in anger.
Luella looked up and froze when she saw the expression on Nyx’s face. The sprite looked terrified, verdant eyes wide and hands fluttering before her.
"I can’t," Nyx revealed. Before Luella could stop the sprite, she disappeared between the shelves, leaving a cloud of fallen leaves in her wake. And Luella was all alone.
By the sprite’s strange behavior, Luella’s suspicions were confirmed—something was going on.
She stood, weighing the journal in her hands, the metal borders poking into her palm from how tightly she gripped it.
This Umbra seemed to be at the heart of whatever was going on, whatever secrets were being kept.
Tucking the book in the folds of her cloak, Luella left the way she came, chamberstick held before her as she slipped away from the shadowed corners of the maze of books and back into her room.