Chapter 28
Gideon
Gideon found himself standing in front of a place filled with some of the most dangerous characters the world had ever known.
But in all fairness, that’s what most would find within Rennedawn’s public library.
He tugged his hood up over his head, peering around at the empty woodland road.
There weren’t many who’d recognize him, but he couldn’t take the chance.
He’d been dubbed a knight deserter and thus was a target.
Once inside, he approached the front desk, nodding politely at the older woman who was sitting there.
Her gray hair was poking out of her pins, and her large glasses were perched on her nose, her hawkish attention immobilizing him.
Clearing his throat, he remembered that there had once been a time when a majority of women found him charming. “Good morning, my lady.” Gideon swept into a bow, smiling, tugging his hood down. “How is a lovely woman such as yourself on this fine afternoon?”
The woman smiled warmly at him, her face transforming from foreboding to lovely. “Oh my. Whatever you need must be a tall order for you to be giving this old woman such attention.”
Gideon felt an odd twinge in the vicinity of his heart. “I can say with utmost sincerity that I meant every word, ma’am.”
There was something very warm in the woman’s demeanor; her face was lined with the moments of her life, and she carried them with pride. “Is this one yours, Keeley?”
“Not even if he begged.” The captain’s voice drifted over his shoulder, and at the sound, both frustration and joy rioted against each other in his brain. He didn’t want her here. “He’s my stable boy.”
The audacity of the woman!
Gideon had a retort locked and loaded, but it died a fiery death when he saw her.
Not an inch of red leather in sight.
No. She wouldn’t be in her uniform in public. She had to blend in.
Though the uniform would have been significantly less distracting.
Her long mass of golden waves was loose, falling down her sides, framing her face in strands that softened her appearance. Her body was draped in a silk day gown that floated off her shoulders. There was no adornment to the dress, just soft green, breezy and loose.
Who in the deadlands was this stranger?
“How are you, Mo?” Keeley smiled warmly, coming toward the counter. “Busy today?”
“Oh, bosh. There’s hardly been anyone in this place all week.
Not since those ridiculous news postings.
” The older woman teetered from behind the counter, banging said news posting on the counter.
“All this Villain nonsense, and nothing about a cure for the Mystic Illness or more accessible magical education for the smaller villages. I swear, all those in power do is distract you from the wrongs they’re committing until you forget. ”
Mo tapped her head with a long finger. “But I forget nothing.”
Gideon’s lips parted as he stared down at the wanted flyer of his sister. It looked less intimidating than the others, less cynical in its depiction, more Evie.
“This girl hardly looks like a threat.” Gideon felt defensiveness, ready to protect his sister’s name to this stranger.
There wasn’t a need.
Mo scoffed, picking up a stack of books and walking toward a ladder, motioning with her shoulder for them to follow. “No, but she is a woman who stepped out of line. Therefore, the king will punish her accordingly.”
“That’s so wrong.” Keeley glided through the library, and Gideon followed.
This place was so unlike the palace library.
Gideon had been there a total of three times, but each felt like sitting in a room of mourning.
Where the king’s was drafty and dark, this place was open, covered with windows, light coming in at every corner.
Plants and greens of all shapes and sizes were strewn about, falling over shelves, wrapping the spines in flower buds, open windows letting in wafts of air that felt cleansing when one hit his face.
“That’s the world,” Mo said, giving Gideon a speculative glance. “Here, hold this, boy—you look strong.” She dropped a book so heavy, Gideon flew to catch it, wobbling under its weight. “Hmm. Only looks, then.”
“Excuse me—” Gideon objected, but he was shoved off-balance by Keeley, who helped Mo with the other books, placing them down with gentleness.
“If you could excuse us, Mo,” Keeley mumbled, “I need to talk to my friend…Herbert for a moment.” She grabbed Gideon’s good arm and dragged him behind the shelves. “What are you doing!” she hissed.
“Herbert?” Gideon’s face twisted.
Keeley ran her hands through her hair, tugging the strands, suffering for patience.
“Do you honestly think the second book would be in such an obvious place? You’re putting Mo in danger, dragging her into the boss’s business.
What if you were followed? She was my first friend outside the manor, and I will not put her in jeopardy because you lack creativity. ”
“I don’t lack creativity.” Gideon rolled his eyes. “Nor do I lack common sense. If we’re looking for a book no one has seen since the kingdom’s creation, don’t you think a feasible location would be the place where the books live?”
Her brows pinched together, but she said nothing.
“You can take a moment,” he assured her. “Absolute silence is an average response to me being right.”
“She’s important to me, Gideon,” Keeley whispered, her anger softening into something of a plea. “This place—and Mo—matter to me.”
Oh, she played dirty.
And it worked immediately.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know.”
“No, I’m sorry.” She sighed, hands fluttering about like a trapped butterfly. “This has always been a private place for me. When I saw you standing there, my life at the manor came tumbling in, and it—”
“Made you name me Herbert.”
She laughed, her eyes brightening, the energy radiating off her so infectious, he grinned back. “So, you didn’t follow me here?” she asked. “This was truly just a coincidence?”
“Just me trying to look in only the most obvious places,” he joked.
She smiled, appearing bashful, and he was so thunderstruck by it, he almost began dancing in place to rid himself of the sensation. “I was going to look here, too, actually.”
“Ha!” he yelled, but the sound was muffled when she put her hand over his mouth.
“Shut up! Gods, we need a plug for your mouth.”
Gideon’s eyebrows rose, his lips moving just slightly over her palm, and she jumped away so fast, she hit the shelf behind her, knocking a book from above. The tome teetered and fell before he reached up and grabbed it. “Herbert to the rescue.”
“You’re infuriating.” She rolled her eyes.
“Keeley?” Mo called. “Are you committing some sort of deviancy in my library with that handsome young man?”
Gideon grinned. “She thinks I’m handsome.”
“Oh my gods.” Keeley stomped away, and Gideon had an extra pep in his step when he trailed behind her. “Mo, could you help us find something?”
“It’s a book,” Gideon added.
“We’re all out.” Mo chuckled, organizing. The space was large and truly empty of patrons.
It was a melancholy feeling. All this joy about. All these places to visit and no one to travel there. All because Benedict was deadlands-bent on mongering fear. “What sort of book?”
“It’s old.” Keeley wordlessly began helping Mo organize books on her cart alphabetically.
“So am I.” Mo was mildly exasperated. “I’m going to need more than that.”
“It’s rainbow colored, with silver-edged pages. Very ornamental in its design. One of its kind.” Gideon gave every detail he could recollect from the one time he’d seen it on Benedict’s desk. The day his career with the Valiant Guard ended.
Mo straightened and turned, pushing her glasses down to the tip of her nose. Her face had no readable emotion upon it. “The book of Rennedawn?”
Keeley gasped. “You’ve seen it?”
Mo paused. “In a sense.”
“That was ominously answered.” Gideon chuckled.
“Now, you two know as well as I that Rennedawn’s storybook resides in the Gleaming Palace with King Benedict,” Mo said, narrowing her eyes at Gideon.
“Of course.” Now that the cart had been cleared of books in need of shelving, Keeley sat on a nearby couch, and Mo joined her.
It was natural. Natural in the way you moved around someone you spent considerable time with.
“I know that, but Herbert is new to Rennedawn. He’s from the southern kingdom. ”
“Ah, yes, the land of lilies.” Mo smiled.
“Some of the best in existence,” Gideon responded jovially. “I’m just so curious. All the rumors floating around about the fading magic, the new villain on the loose. It’s like a melodrama you’d see on the stage.”
“Your kingdom’s storybook prophecy is its own dilemma. You weren’t curious about that?” Mo quirked her lips.
Huh. That’s a tidbit to file for later.
“We were wondering, Mo…might there have been any extra copies made? Surely the creators of it would want the public to know what it’s up against.” Keeley was being careful, but Gideon could see the trust between them, something she seemed quite desperate not to break.
Mo gave them a piteous glance. “Sweet child, there are no copies of Rennedawn’s storybook in this library.” She gave a humorless laugh. “There’s barely funding for candles. We’ve been closing at dusk.”
Keeley didn’t appear surprised by this revelation. “I brought a box of candles from home. I hate thinking of you here alone in the dark.”
“I like the dark.” Mo stood, dusting off her skirts with a merry smile. “It’s preparing me for death.”
Gideon coughed, unable to catch his breath.
“Why do you say such morbid things?” Keeley gave her friend an exasperated smile as she stood as well.
“Because there is liberation in looking at what you fear and simply having a good laugh.” Mo patted her hand.
“You’re a wonder.” Keeley leaned over and kissed Mo’s cheek. “We should really be going—Herbert’s eager to return to the stables.” She mock whispered, “He has a real passion for shoveling horse droppings.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Mo said, peering at him shrewdly over her glasses.
“You know…” she started, and then: “I shouldn’t say…
but—” The old woman gave them both a meaningful look.
“There are no copies of the storybook in this library. That is true. But there was a story from when I was young. It might be of some value to you.”
“How do you mean?” Keeley asked carefully.
“There was a palace before the one that gleams.” Mo seemed troubled, looking off into the distance. “One nestled within Hickory Forest. Where the first king sat on the throne.”
“I never knew that.” Keeley frowned.
“You wouldn’t,” Mo told her. “Benedict’s father rid the kingdom of any texts to do with it. Said the only palace known by the citizens would be the Gleaming. But the old palace may just have some magic left. It might be worth a look.”
Keeley leaned in, enraptured. “Do you know where it is?”
Mo chuckled darkly.
“Have either of you heard of Massacre Manor?”