39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
ELODIE
T he soft thud of the closing door echoed around me, disrupting the quiet that lay thick like its own blanket over the space I was now in. Untold amounts of books lined the walls of the circular room, stretching up high into the vaulted ceiling. A series of walkways at least a floor apart followed the curve, allowing access to the tomes out of reach.
A glass window, so high up it looked no bigger than a tyre, let in rays of sunlight that miraculously landed on the grey marble floor. The light shining onto gemstones that had been embedded there, fractures of light casting off them in a kaleidoscope of colours.
Ahead, a dark, wide corridor lined with more books led away, the faint glow of stone lights held in brackets illuminated its entrance.
Made sense to omit the flames from a place like this.
I moved forward, filled with a sense of wonder as drops of rainbow light fell across my skin. The floor was cold here, compared to the rest of the palace, my soft shoes making barely a whisper as I took in everything around me. As I soaked in the silence, there was no holding back the smile on my face.
This was nothing like I had been expecting. Had the prince really meant for me to come here or was this Alouette’s doing? I found I didn’t much care because here I was, surrounded by all the knowledge, all the answers.
I had to admit, I had no clue where to start; this place was vast. I turned slowly on the spot before crossing to the nearest shelf, slowly enough not to disrupt the silence that felt as if it was its own presence. Some entity held here to guard over this treasure. A shiver ran down my body at the thought before I dismissed the idea, eyes already wandering over the titles in front of me.
Thick tomes bound in old leather lined the shelf, their spines cracked with age yet well cared for. Running my fingers along them, I waited for something to grab my attention. Most seemed to be in a language I couldn’t read. I pulled a heavy red one from its place and opened it, staring down at words I couldn’t make sense of. Sighing, I slipped it back, touching my fingers over the spines at random.
It was no good having access to books if I couldn’t even read them. Giving up on roaming the shelves, hoping for something recognisable, I walked towards the corridor. I felt that tug on my heart that had begun to feel familiar, and my feet stepped forward on their own volition. I let it guide me, pull me onwards, each light flaring and dimming as I passed.
When I reached the other side, the library opened up before me. Ten times as big as the room I had come from, the ceiling just as high, except in here there was no glass ceiling. No windows disrupting the thick tapestries that lined the towering walls. No light except the stones that cast a dim glow through the space. It was enough for me to make out a short distance through the tall, dark shelves lined with books that stood in rows ahead of me, though beyond that sat in gloom.
The nearest light grew brighter as I passed, my magik reaching towards it. I kept moving and soon lost myself wandering quietly down the rows of books. The smell of paper and leather wrapping itself around me as I scanned for any sort of markers that would clue me in on what was on the shelves. Trailing my fingers across the cracked spines that sat in neat rows, I felt their energy tease at my skin, and smiled wider than I had since I had landed in this crazy place, finding comfort in the silence.
Each one held the possibility of an answer, the promise of knowledge I needed desperately. But they also held the promise of questions, ones that I knew could change everything if I were willing to ask them.
I carried on, row after row. The lights responding to my presence as I moved, not paying much attention to the titles, marvelling at the sheer volume that surrounded me and how I now had access to it all. So far, I hadn’t noticed anything familiar but given the amount of books in here, that was hardly surprising. The language had changed now, and I could read most of the words my eyes passed over.
Something began teasing at the edges of my mind, a soft caress that grew more insistent with every book I touched. My magik reached for it, pulling it with the barest tug and images began to flick through my mind. Too fast for me to make any real sense of, though I caught a glimpse of a large snow-capped mountain, and I pulled my hand away from the books with a sharp intake of breath, the jingle of my bracelets slicing through the stillness.
Hesitantly placing the lightest of touches on the book, images again flooded my mind, slower this time as I concentrated on steadying my thoughts.
The mountain was there again, its peak covered with snow, a pine forest sweeping up its sides. A chill crept over me as if I had been standing on its summit and not in a library surrounded by books, and I pulled away again.
Desperate for the words to be in a language I understood, I checked the cover. Breath held as I read the cover, Rutagian Peaks – Where Not to Step .
How was that possible? Frowning, I took the book from the shelf, opened it and skimmed through the pages. I found it to be a guidebook for a mountain range I had never heard of. In quiet disbelief, I placed it back in the space it had been in.
I let myself wander through the room, contemplating my new show of magik, footsteps slow and quiet, hesitant now to reach out and touch the spines that stood waiting.
Tucked within the alleys of shelves, there were small spaces that would open up invitingly to an armchair or small sofa. Rugs covered the cold floor, a footstool or low table often there, too. Each time I came across one, the thought of finding someone sitting there had me holding my breath in anticipation, but I hadn’t seen anyone so far. I was sure if there had been anyone here, I would have heard them already. Unless they were keeping out of my way, which was an unnerving thought and one I didn’t linger on.
Lightly whispering my fingers over the books, I marvelled at how my magik responded. Brushing against another book, this one thin and brown with a shiny binding, I felt the pull at my mind.
I let my fingers linger on it, focusing my thoughts, urging the magik that was building inside me to do as it had before. The images came again, my mind filling with leafy green plants.
I blinked them away, pushing them out of my head before I picked out the book and opened it on a page at random. Hand-drawn sketches—that were so beautiful I marvelled at the skill—were there on the yellowing paper. Looping writing accompanied them, and as I flicked through, I realised it was some sort of journal. The Properties and Uses of Artemisia Dracunculus by Professor Glennan Basil-Florian to be exact. Tucking it back within the shelf, a soft laugh fell from my lips. Echoing across the books, it seemed to fill the entire room, and I froze as the silence was disrupted.
As the quiet reformed again, I let myself sink into it, relaxing as my magik urged me on, and I found myself eager to follow, to see if this new talent would continue. Glad I was wearing the soft shoes that would keep my footsteps silent, I walked faster.
The books whispered to me, stroking at the edges of my magik, daring me to pick them up. So I did. Choosing one at random, I placed the lightest touch against its surface as I let my energy race to my fingertips, and instantly scenes of people riding on horseback over a vast field flew across my mind. It changed as they crossed a river, then again as they dismounted and stared off into the distance. Gasping down a breath that apparently I had been holding, I ripped the book off the shelf, breaking the flow of images, to check the title— The Journey to Sulinas by Larissa K Farley.
“Well fuck,” I whispered into the darkness, my words swallowed in the gloom beyond me, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I put the book back. I moved along the row reaching for book after book, allowing their stories to flood my mind before I opened each one to check.
There were books on everything, and as I continued my journey, I found no rhyme nor reason to the system here. The books were merely placed wherever they wanted.
A book dedicated to rubies—how to find them, cut them and imbibe them with energy—was sat next to a book called The Proper Care and Management of Air Sprites , whatever that meant. When I had touched that book, all that I had seen were thick wisps of smoke zipping all around. Not every book responded to me, but most of them did, and a thrill ran through my body each time.
Excited at this newfound power I delved deeper into the dark, the stone lights following my progress. Maybe I would be able to find the books I needed after all, if all it took was a brush of my fingers, and I could see what each book contained, it wouldn’t be long before I found something that could help me get out of this place, or at the very least tell me where the hell I was.
I’d happily settle for another copy of that little book of stories.
I wonder if they have a romance section; that will help keep my fantasies at bay for a while.
Sighing at the rush of magik that flooded me, I turned the corner ready to find more, when my feet brushed against one of the thick rugs which marked the small reading spaces dotted throughout.
I had no interest in sitting right now, my mind focused on the information around me. Plus, I had no idea how long I’d been here, nor how long I would be allowed to stay. As I started down the next row, feet touching the cold marble once again, a rustle of pages filled the silence, and I froze.
Whispers reached to me from behind, and as I spun around, panic seizing my thoughts, magik flooded to my fingertips before it stopped, unable to push past the barrier of my skin.
In front of me were three large chairs, all covered in thick crimson velvet, studded with large buttons—a low wooden table between them. Pale stone light from sconces at the ends of the shelves illuminated the area, casting shadows around the figure sat in one of the chairs.
“You’re too loud for a library,” his voice rumbled as he twitched his finger, and I felt the air around me rush past. “I’m surprised the Keeper has let you stay here for so long.”
My magik skipped through me and as the smell of crisp mountain air surrounded me, my heart easing to a steady rhythm, all the while urging me forward.
Marcellus took up an ungodly amount of space, broad shoulders silhouetted against the shelves behind him. His bright eyes glowed in the light that played over the pink scars that ran down his neck, still visible through the dark beard lining his jaw, before disappearing under the collar of his top. In his large hands, he held an open book, with a pile of others on the chair closest to him. I’d stepped towards him without even realising, catching myself as the light flared brighter as my feet hit the rugs.
I hadn’t expected to see him. To see anyone. Had I been so wrapped up in my newfound abilities, I’d missed the fact I wasn’t alone?
“The Keeper?” I found my voice, though I held in a wince as it echoed around us, and that thick silence I had first felt when I walked in here pressed down on me. I wanted to thank him, to acknowledge what he had done the other day, but I didn’t have the words.
“You mean Alouette?” I tried again, this time keeping my voice low, and I felt air shift around me.
“No. Not Alouette.” His searching eyes swept over me, and I wanted to squirm under his scrutiny.
“Full of answers, the lot of you,” I said in a huff, and could have sworn I saw his mouth twitch with a smile.
“What answers are you looking for? Maybe you haven’t been asking the right questions.” He closed the book he was reading, and the dull thud reverberated through the space between us. A whisper of wind ruffled my hair, and my heart tugged, urging me towards him. I rubbed the ache with my hand and his eyes followed the movement before flicking back up.
“I’ve asked plenty of questions,” I countered.
For all the good it’s done me.
“Like I said, you haven’t been asking the right ones.”
“Why am I here?” I breathed out, because that had to be the right one, and his dark laugh slid over me, sending shivers rippling across my skin.
“You’re here because His High Lord Prince Bastian graciously granted your request of... books .” His voice dripped with so much sarcasm, I could practically see it oozing from him. “Though why he thought you should come in here, I have no idea.”
“Not what I meant, and you know it. Also, what’s wrong with me being in here? You’re in here.”
Marcellus stood from the chair, huge body rising up so I had to tilt my head slightly to keep his gaze despite the distance still between us. The lights reached more of him, and I saw that even here he was wearing his sword with the opal set into the hilt. Dropping the book down onto the chair, he gestured around. “Do you know what this place is?”
“I thought I was asking the questions.” He ignored me, but I didn’t care, enjoying the way every word he spoke washed against me, realising this was the most I had heard his voice, and I wanted more of it.
“This is the Royal Chamber of Knowledge.”
Means nothing to me.
“That’s a fancy way of saying library.”
He stepped towards me. “This library contains every piece of knowledge ever collected from this kingdom. Every scrap of history, every discovery, every event. All collected here. This is not a place you are just ‘allowed’ to be in. Only someone of royal blood can step through those doors and not be punished. On rare occasions, the Keeper may deem few Fae worthy of the words written on these pages.”
“But I’m not royal.” I swallowed, feeling a weight settle over me, pulsing against my skin.
“You’re not.”
“I’m not even Fae.” As I said the words, they felt like a lie on my tongue, the energy rolling through me enough to remind me that I was something more.
Marcellus scoffed at that, crossing his arms over his chest, bulging biceps almost distracting me from pieces I was putting together.
“Which means, that if I hadn’t been deemed worthy—whatever that’s supposed to mean—I would have been what, killed? Just for stepping in here.” Magik pressed into my fingertips, but that weight dropped heavier onto me, dulling my energy.
“Killed? No. Not if there had been a healer to you quick enough.”
“But I could have died. He sent me here knowing that it was possible!” I gritted my teeth against the rage that was becoming all too consistent when it came to Bastian. I flexed my hands as I tried to ease the heavy oppression that was bearing into me.
“The Prince is a bastard. That shouldn’t come as a surprise. Especially to you.” Marcellus took another slow step forward and the pressure eased a fraction as I looked at him, remembering how it had felt to have his hard body pressed up against me. He was more relaxed now. There was no raging storm surrounding us which was understandable given the environment, but I wouldn’t mind being back in his grip regardless.
“So, Alouette brought me here knowing I could die when she doesn’t even have to go along with what he says?” I asked incredulously.
“Alouette has her own way of doing things.”
“How can you work for someone who’s such a dick?” I hissed out, picturing Bastian’s smug face and how much I’d like to punch it again.
Marcellus’ dark laugh rumbled through the space between us, setting my already frayed nerves alight. He was close enough that I could reach out and touch him if I dared.
I didn’t dare.
“I don’t work for Bastian.”
Confusion added to the multitude of emotions racing through me, and I scowled at him feeling my magik respond to the chaos so easily roused inside me and aching to be released.
“Careful, Little One,” he said, reaching to clasp both my hands in his, and my skin was alight under his grip. “The Keeper doesn’t take lightly to anyone throwing magik around in here. You’ll die before you can even release a drop.”
I worked on pulling my magik back, tugging it away from the edges it was so desperate to break through. Slowly it responded, sliding away from its release, and I gasped as the pressure that had been bearing down on me faded. My eyes fell to Marcellus’ large, rough hands encircling mine, my heart clenching as I flicked them back to his face. Sucking down a breath laden with leather and apples, I could taste it heavy on my tongue as it sent my body into overdrive. Swirling energy searched for a way to find that connection, and this time that heavy presence stayed away. It was just us, alone somewhere within this maze of books, his huge body crowding mine.
“The Keeper—they allow you in here?” I asked, as his thumb brushed against the back of my hand. Just as when I had seen him in that room with Bastian, images began to press against my hand—lips touching, bodies moving.
“It does.” I focused on his face, trying to ignore them.
“So, you’re deemed worthy.” It was barely a whisper.
“Something like that.” He let my hands go, and they dropped to my sides. I held them closed, the feel of his skin a lingering burn on my senses, part of me mourning the loss.
“There are other libraries, ones for anyone to use. I didn’t know he was sending you here.” The hard edges of his face drew into a scowl. His fists clenched tight, and light rippled across his rugged face, shadows playing with the contours.
I started to back away, needing to find space from him, my head clearing with each step. Air that didn’t taste of him filled my lungs, and with each breath, I felt magik settling.
“Like you said, he’s a bastard.” My voice wasn’t as steady as I would have liked, and my stomach flipped at the ghost of a smile that played on his face.
“I’m going to go keep… doing what I was doing.” Slowly, I turned away from him, both eager for space and reluctant to take it.
I didn’t know how much longer I had left in here, and I hadn’t found a single book that would help. I wasn’t sure how well I’d be able to concentrate knowing Marcellus was in here now.
Ready to hurry away into the dark, I almost made it to the nearest shelf, when the glowing sconces flared with light as I felt a presence behind me. His body was close enough I could feel his heat, and I shivered as his breath swept over my shoulder.
“What were you looking for, Little One?” I was frozen to the spot, every inch of my body alight at his nearness. “You’ve been searching for a while.”
Well fuck, what was I meant to say now?
That I’m looking for more information about this place so I can learn more about my magik, and break out and go home and never see any of you again?
Ignoring the pang of grief that flared briefly at the thought, I wracked my mind for an answer that would fit.
“A book.” I answered dumbly, his proximity was embarrassingly messing with my mind along with my body, turning my head to look at him, as he raised an eyebrow at me.
It’s not exactly a lie.
I cleared my throat as I scrambled for more. “I had a book, before, and I think it was a children’s book, but it had all these old stories in it. I had it with me when… when that guard…” I blinked hard against the memory of that day, forcing my eyes to stay on the man who had found me.
“I don’t know where it ended up. I’d like to carry on reading it.” I turned fully towards him, head tipped back, his gaze holding mine. Light splintered off the opal that was inlaid in the pommel of his sword, the tiny points scattered across his bronzed skin.
“What was it called?” Reaching out, he brushed a lock of white hair from my face, rough fingers grazing my cheek, leaving a trail of fire behind that travelled through my whole body.
“Er, I don’t really know.” I was melting, my mind focusing on the burn he had lit within me instead of the reasonable question he had asked.
“Full of answers.” The gravel of his voice tipped with humour.
I rolled my eyes at him. “Something about one hundred old tales?”
“ One Hundred Tales of the Fae of Old, ” he responded instantly.
“Yes, that’s the one!”
“And that’s all you were looking for, was it? You were taking your time.”
“Yes.” I nodded.
Did he know? That I was looking for ways to beat the asshole who had brought me here and get back home? My heart hammered at the thought, and I almost found myself blubbering out excuses for why I had to leave, but instead I latched onto something else.
“How would you know how long I’ve been in here?”
“I knew you were here the moment you walked through the door.” He stepped away, cool air invading my body. Heart still racing in my chest, I whirled on the spot trying to see where he had gone, but there was no one there. The light had dimmed, only the ones closest to me lighting the gloom I was surrounded by, and I was alone in the silence.