18. Cat
Chapter eighteen
Cat
Z ariel rushed back into the bedroom, the guest at the door banished after a few brusque words. I had waited silently, trying unsuccessfully to overhear the conversation. Was it the High Artist? Did the university finally contact the angels? Did I have to leave?
I stood to greet Zariel. There was nothing of the lover on his face now—it was the scholar, the potential warrior.
“What happened?” I asked, resisting the urge to take his hand in mine.
“It was a friend, wondering if I had seen Cael. And a few others.”
“Isn’t that normal?”
“Yes. No. Not for this long.” He sighed and collapsed on the bed. “People do sometimes become hard to find in this mountain. You’ve seen it—it’s a maze and we often are assigned different tasks. But … I don’t think that’s the reason now, as much as I haven’t let myself dwell on it. My friend heard a rumor that Cael and others are devoted to the High Artist’s plans for us to go home. The High Artist mentioned a ritual himself the day that I brought you here, but I had hoped—now I have a bad feeling about all of this.”
“Why?”
“You know a little of our magic, but you don’t know the High Artist. He can be ruthless. One has to be, to obtain the position. It’s hereditary to a point, but heirs can always be challenged. There was a fight for the High Artist to gain his position, and I wouldn’t put it past him to ask—what else is our magic be capable of, if someone is willing to try? What would he be willing to do, if it allowed us to go home?”
My imagination wandered. There was a whole prison of creatures down below they could poke and prod—or worse—if there was some spell the High Artist wanted to perform. And the High Artist was basically a king, so there was no one to stop him. That I knew of.
I sat on the bed next to Zariel, close enough that my arms pressed against his, our thighs nearly touching. Even now, it was impossible to stop thinking of what his closeness meant, how it made my senses stir.
“What can we do?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m not sure there even is anything. I wish we had time—you gave me the idea that gods are involved with the worlds shifting, but I have no way to research that idea efficiently.”
“Are you sure? There are thousands, if not millions of books here.”
“Tens of millions. If you’re counting scrolls as well.” His pride in the library remained, despite everything.
“My point stands,” I said. “There has to be something about it in this library.”
“There might be, but we don’t have time. I’ve spent all of my adult life here. I know our collection—which is meticulously organized—and I know that the other half is with our sister library. Back in our world.” He paused, deep in thought. “The elves of the Darkening Woods would not only have the document I’m thinking of, but they’d have a way to find it quickly. However, would they be willing to send it to us?”
“You’re sure it’s not here?”
“I … may have already been looking since you gave me the idea. Just in case my memory of our catalogue failed me. Despite this.” He gestured to his rune. “And unfortunately, I’m correct. We have the tomes on the Darkening Woods’ connection to the trees, including 36 volumes of maps documenting significant trees in that forest through the millennia. The elves are an old society, one of the eldest, and they keep their records. But any documents regarding the worlds’ prior shifting as recorded by the elves is listed in the catalogue as being in our sister library. ”
Of course, he had already looked. I should have known.
“Then what can we do?” When he gave me a questioning look, I crossed my arms. “Yes, we . I’m not leaving you to face this alone. If there’s magic being done in this mountain, it could potentially impact the human world, this is my business too. It could impact us, right?”
Zariel rocked his head back and forth gently for a moment. “Anything is possible, especially when we’re discussing breaking apart a world.”
“Then it’s settled. I’m staying. And helping.”
He nodded, accepting my answer, though I noted the hint of worry in his gaze. “All we have now are guesses,” he said. “And who knows, my concerns might be for nothing. For now, we proceed as normal, and keep our ears open. At this point, there’s nothing else we can do except try to learn more.”
I agreed with him, but I couldn’t shake the unsettled trepidation that worked through me. Zariel was in danger, because of me. The angels were sneaky bastards, who were desperate to return home. There might be a true danger in the magic they were thinking of performing, and I couldn’t guarantee that they’d let me leave the mountain, knowing what I did about their magic.
And here I was, in the middle of everything.
All of this because I didn’t listen to Silv.