Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
“Little human.”
I grimace. Of course, Kali is the first thing this realm hands me. Hopefully, this unlucky landing will be balanced out by heaps of luck in the library.
“You’re back,” she says as I turn to face her.
“Your powers of observation are exceptional. Is that why Adric keeps you around?”
Her brows rise. “My queen, I thought you knew. He keeps me around for when he wants a proper fuck.”
I have to force myself not to take a step back. I wasn’t actually expecting her to play hardball.
Thankfully, after Mom died, my clueless Uncle Finn shoved me into a hideous school for girls, which means that I’m well-versed in dealing with ego-centric, power-hungry bitches from hell.
“And here I thought he kept you around for your charm.” My smile could sweeten vinegar. “Glad we cleared that up.”
She doesn’t move, just stays planted in front of the doorway that leads into the Great Hall. Her armor gleams as always, and—also as always—her expression makes clear I’m something she truly wishes could be squashed as easily as a bug.
I, of course, smile sweetly. “Still skulking around doorways, I see. You really should get a hobby.”
“You walk into the king’s realm as though you own it.”
“Funny thing about being engaged to the king. I kind of do.” I flash a level I outrank you now, bitch smile. It may not be technically true, but we both know where Adric’s loyalty lies.
“Speaking of, where is he? Adric? Tall, silver eyes, runs the place. I’d like to see him.”
Something that looks like annoyance flickers across her face, and I force myself not to wiggle with glee. It may be a small, petty victory, but I take it, because small petty victories are about all I get where Kali’s concerned.
“The king is not your errand boy,” she says.
“No. He’s my fiancé. There’s a difference, but I wouldn’t expect you to know it.” I tip my head. “Are you going to tell me where he is, or do I have to wander the castle calling his name until he finds me? Because I’ll do it. I have a truly excellent yell.”
Her jaw tightens, and for one bright, glorious second, I think she might actually answer me with violence, which would at least be honest. Instead, she steps aside, the movement crisp as a blade going back into its sheath.
“The east gallery,” she says. “Try not to embarrass him.”
“No promises,” I say, and breeze past her before she can get the last word in, a loss which I’m pretty sure causes her actual physical pain.
Score one for Team Cora, I think, then play that beautiful victory back as I move through the castle to find Adric exactly where she said, alone at the long windows with the orange light pouring over him.
For a moment, I simply stand in the doorway watching him.
Then he turns, his brow furrowed, until he sees me.
Then his entire face lights up, and I watch as the king disappears, revealing the man underneath.
I shiver, lost in the knowledge that both versions of the man are mine.
“Beloved,” he says, as we cross to each other. “You came to me.”
“Can’t live without you,” I quip, though I’m not at all sure I’m joking.
“And my brother?”
“He’s with Mr. Griffin. They’re coordinating with Hunters all over the globe to figure out how to shore up the keystone.”
He nods, his expression grave. “Yes. I have my scholars researching as well.” He squeezes my hand. “As much as I wish you had come only to see me, I am not so naive.”
“Well, I did come to you first. But I’m here for your library. And actually, you’re not the first one I saw. I had to get past your minion.”
He chuckles. “Ah, that I’d been a fly on the wall.”
“She’s insufferable.”
“Perhaps. But she is also my right arm.”
“Your arm has gangrene,” I mutter.
“Pardon?”
“Nothing,” I say, but I know he heard me.
“Hmm,” he says, but instead of calling me on it, he pulls me closer and claims my mouth. And if he’s trying to make me forget about Kali, he’s doing a damn good job.
There’s nothing careful about this kiss.
It’s heat and passion and anything but a simple hello.
His hand cups the back of my head, and his arm slides around the small of my back as he gathers me in like a man who’s been counting the hours.
I moan, and the kiss goes deeper and hotter, and everything drops away—the castle and the sky, even the reason I came—until there’s just his mouth and his hands and the low sound he makes in his throat when I press close, feeling him hard against me.
I let myself revel in it—this long, sweet, heated moment. Then I plant my hands on his chest and push back just enough to breathe.
“Okay,” I manage. “We have to stop. I have a mission.”
A flicker of amusement dances across his face. “Do you indeed, Ms. Bond? And what mission is that?” he asks, pulling me back in and teasing my neck with his lips.
“A quest.” That gets his attention—he leans back and looks at me, one brow raised. “Seriously,” I say. “It’s a real quest. Tia’s got me searching for books. The kind that probably don’t exist in the Real. I need to scour the library. And,” I add, “I want to see Uncle Finn.”
He nods. “Of course, you do. He is there now. With his books.” He pauses for a moment. “He has been...far away, lately. More than before. I thought you should know, so it does not catch you unguarded.”
My chest tightens. I want to say that he needs to release Finn, but I don’t even know if that would help, and at least here I know he’s being taken care of.
Later.
I’ll figure out what to do about Finn after we save the world. Because unless we find some answers, where Finn lives will be the least of my worries.
The library is the way it always is—high ceilings, dust motes hanging in the slanted orange light, the smell of old leather and ink.
And there, at the long table near the center, is Finn, a book open in front of him and three more stacked at his elbow.
From what I can see, he’s not reading so much as resting his eyes on the page, his expression soft and unfocused, like he’s not here at all, but somewhere that exists only in his head.
“Uncle Finn,” I say, hurrying to his side.
He looks up, and it takes him a second to find me, and another to smile.
“Cora. Cora, sweetheart. Look at you.” He reaches out and takes my hand, his smile so wide it tugs at my heart.
“Your mother was here earlier, you know. Just there, by the stacks.” He gestures vaguely, and that wave of joy turns to frustration and worry.
“Was she?” I say, trying to keep my voice level. It kills me that he’s still hallucinating, but at least the visions give him comfort. When he tells me about them, though…well, it’s one hell of a gut-punch, because I want to see my mom, too. Even if only in a dream.
“Was she…” he repeats, his voice trailing off. “No, no, that wasn’t Cassie. Maren brought me the tea.” His brow creases, then smooths. “She’s so sweet to me.”
“I’m glad you have a friend,” I say, thankful that it wasn’t a full-on hallucination. Maren really does resemble my mother.
I crouch by his chair so I can look him in the eye. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, fine, fine. But I do so enjoy your visits. Yours and Cassie’s especially.”
“Right,” I say, forcing the words out past the lump in my throat. I’d thought that Maren would be the only Mom-fantasy, and I’m unprepared for the force of the grief that slams through me.
I clear my throat and force a smile. “I know how much you’ve missed her. I’m so glad she’s here for you.”
And in a way, I really am. There’s no question that coming to this realm muddled my uncle’s head—and while I want to take him home, I know I can’t.
Not until I’m certain that the Real would unmuddle him.
And definitely not now, when he’d just be stepping into the middle of the Widow Maker’s weirdness—not to mention the threat of a full-on war played out in the Real.
For now, he’s safe here. And, I concede, he’s happy.
I’m about to lean over to kiss his cheek when the floor seems to shimmy beneath me. I frown, then tell myself I imagined it. But when I look around, I see other confused faces looking back at me, and know that I didn’t imagine it at all.
What the hell?
“It’s coming undone,” Finn says in that dreamy voice. He lifts his head to meet my eyes. “The keystone’s breaking, you know.”
My whole body goes cold. Not just because of the words, but because he sounded completely lucid. “What? Uncle Finn, what are you talking about?”
But he’s already sinking back into the fog. And it doesn’t matter anyway. I know what he means. More than that, I know it means I need to hurry and find that damn book.
“Did you come just to visit? Would you like tea?”
Part of me wants to scream. Wants to shake him and have him tell me everything he knows about the keystone.
Except it’s gone now. I can see that. Now he’s just Finn in the library.
The dream—or prophecy or whatever—is gone.
And the best thing I can do for everyone is get the books I came for then get the hell back to the Real.
“Cora?”
I shake my head. “No tea for me. I’m on a research mission for Tia.
She gave me a list a mile long, plus one specific book she really wants me to find—The Book of the Threshold.
Sixteenth century or so, in Latin. It has to do with liminal spaces and mystical doorways and stuff. Any chance you’ve seen it?”
Thankfully, he doesn’t ask for which professor’s class we need the book, when I learned Latin, or what mystical doorways have to do with history.
Instead, he legitimately thinks, his brows making a V the way they do when he concentrates.
I cross my fingers, but in the end, he shakes his head. “You should ask Maren. She knows where everything lives.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks, Uncle Finn.” I press a kiss to his temple, breathing in the scent of ancient paper and tea as I fight back tears.