Chapter 34 Isi
ISI
That shouldn’t have happened.
But it did, and there was no going back.
I eased away from him and walked stiffly across the floor. Opened the door and stepped back out into the corridor. Then made my legs carry me to a bathing room where I washed up and leaned against the wall until I’d regained control.
Once I felt like my legs could support me, I walked to the dining hall.
I sensed more than saw him following—dressed in clean pants.
He was right. He always would be near. I was only now letting the knowledge sink in.
I wasn’t sure what I felt about it, let alone about what we’d done, so I was going to stop thinking about it for now.
I sat with my friends at lunch and did my best to eat and not look at Trew sitting on the dais. The heat of his gaze remained on me, and I wondered what he was thinking, if he was wishing it hadn’t happened.
I couldn’t find it within myself to regret, because I’d enjoyed our sparring, our kisses, and the push and pull of our teasing.
And finding satisfaction in his arms.
Thankfully, he didn’t follow me to strategy class, though his cinderhawk did, perching a few rows behind us.
“What’s going on between you two?” Lexie asked, sending a sharp look at Trew’s companion.
“Nothing.” And everything.
She snorted. “You can’t fool me. Just…” Her voice softened and sympathy clouded her eyes. “Be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
Her serious expression didn’t fade. “I’m here for you. To talk or to listen or to smack him if he hurts you.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “You’d hit the king?”
“Excuse me,” Malcolm called out from the stage below us. “If you’ll pay attention, please? Our lecture has started.”
I gave him a smile that held an apology, and he continued speaking.
“I mean it,” Lexie hissed. “One word, and I’m on him.”
My minxpip did not show up for magical lessons with Nia in the afternoon. And neither did Trew. I wasn’t sure if I was miffed about the latter or not, so I decided I was going to act as if I wasn’t.
Since we had homework after class, we opted to go to the library to do some research.
Kerralyn’s favorite place.
As we strode down the hall leading to the library, Derren stretched his arms over his head, cracking his joints. “If Nia assigns me another tactical essay, I’m defecting to the enemy.”
“You’d last about an hour,” Lexie said. “Less, if they’re distracted by your whining.”
He clutched his chest. “Cruelty from my own side.”
I smiled. “You do complain a lot, Derren.”
“I prefer commentate.”
“Then commentate quietly,” I said. “We need to do some research.”
Kerralyn swept ahead of us, her journal hugged to her chest. “If you’re all finished dramatizing, we’re nearly there. Maybe stop talking? The librarian despises noise.”
“That seems unfair,” Derren muttered. “How else am I supposed to express my brilliance?”
Lexie elbowed him. “Maybe write it down like normal people?”
The vast double doors loomed ahead, shimmering as we approached. We’d only come here one other time, but the air on this floor always felt cooler, thinner, as if even sound hesitated to intrude.
Kerralyn reached for the brass handle. “Let’s avoid Mistress Helwin. She doesn’t care for interruptions.”
The doors creaked open, and the scent of parchment, dust, and candlewax enveloped us.
Like the last time, the library stunned me.
Three tiers of shelves arched upward toward a vaulted ceiling painted with unfamiliar stars.
Shafts of light fell through tall windows, catching in floating motes, turning them to golden dust.
The librarian sat at a desk on the far right, her head bent as she studied a thick tome open on the smooth wooden surface. She didn’t look up.
“This way,” Kerralyn whispered, basically tiptoeing to our left. “Books on battle tactics are upstairs.”
“We could ask the librarian,” Derren said, starting in that direction.
Kerralyn snagged his arm, holding him back. “No, we can’t.”
“Why not?” I asked.
She put a finger over her lips and nudged her head toward the upper level.
Derren frowned but shrugged, and we followed her up the staircase.
As we climbed, Lexie leaned close to me. “Why is she avoiding the librarian?”
“Good question.”
Kerralyn pointed when we’d reached the top of the stairs. “This way.”
She led us to a semicircular alcove overlooking the main floor. Tables of dark wood gleamed beneath fairy-light globes, and the far wall was lined with tomes so ancient their titles had half-worn away. Other racks of books jutted around us from various directions.
“This place is beautiful,” I said, leaning over to study some of the books.
“Beautifully intimidating.” Derren grabbed a book and settled in a chair at the table.
“These ancient books are warded,” Kerralyn said absently, nudging her chin to a section labeled, Authorized Access Only. She trailed her fingers a breath above the bindings without touching. “To prevent decay and theft.”
“Warded how?” I asked.
“Depends on who cast them. Sometimes the wards are tied to the building’s guardians.”
I frowned.
“Like those.” Her gaze flicked toward the main floor below, where marble statues stood sentinel in various parts of the room. I’d noted one at the end of the corridor running along this section too. Some wore robes, others gowns. Each held a staff or sword.
Lexie leaned over the railing. “I thought they were decoration.”
Kerralyn released a thin smile. “They’re more than that. The castle libraries of old were said to defend their own knowledge. Woe to anyone who took without leave.”
“Define woe,” Derren said, pointing. “Because that one near the wall looks like it could lift me and fling me across the room with one finger.”
“It’s not a problem if you behave,” I said.
Derren strolled closer to the shelf holding the ancient books with the warning, his hand stretching toward—
A flutter of magic pulsed through the air, a faint hum that made the hair on my arms rise. The eyes of one of the statues on this level glimmered blue before going dark again.
“Did you see that?” Lexie whispered.
“It could’ve been a trick of the light,” Derren said, backing away from the shelf with his arms lifted. “Not going to touch again to find out.”
Kerralyn gestured to another wall. “The section on siege formations is over there.”
We each claimed a shelf. The hum subsided, replaced by the soft rustle of us turning pages.
I pulled down a volume titled On the Art of Elemental Coordination and sat at a table, flipping through brittle pages covered in diagrams of troop movements, finding the text dense but fascinating.
Lexie perched on the edge of a table, reading softly from a treatise she’d found. “Listen to this, ‘Never place fire beside wind in close ranks unless you desire the immediate loss of eyebrows.’ Practical advice.”
Derren groaned from where he sat near her. “I enjoy weapons’ training better. At least then the danger is obvious.”
“You’re allergic to learning,” Kerralyn said, taking notes in her journal.
“And you’re allergic to fun.”
“I’m plenty fun.”
He snorted. “Sure. Why hide from the librarian, then?”
Her quill paused mid-note but she didn’t look up. “I don’t hide from her. She just dislikes questions.”
“She’s a librarian.” Lexie raised an eyebrow. “You’d think she’d deal with questions all day long.”
“Hence her disliking them.”
A faint whisper brushed my ear, a rustle of pages though there wasn’t anyone else near. Another rustle, and the spine of one of the books in the ancient section slid forward on its own.
“Did you see—”
“Yes,” Lexie said, her eyes wide. “It moved.”
Derren stepped closer. “Maybe it’s enchanted in some way?”
Kerralyn clicked her tongue. “Don’t touch it.”
The book slid forward a bit more, stopped, then shuffled backward, stilling as if nothing had happened. The air tingled with static.
“Well,” Derren said, “that’s not unsettling at all.”
Lexie’s lip thinned. “Truly.”
We resumed working, but I caught Kerralyn glancing toward the lower floor, her expression distant. After a while, she closed her journal. “Do we have enough? We need to leave before the librarian closes, which is promptly at the dinner hour.”
I glanced at the clock mounted on the lower level wall. About ten minutes.
“I think so.” Derren snapped his book shut. “If I read one more description of troop geometry, I’ll defect for real.”
We returned the books to their proper shelves and descended the stairs, our footsteps echoing in the hushed room. The statues loomed, their marble eyes empty and watchful. I couldn’t shake the impression that they were watching.
Kerralyn led us a roundabout way that didn’t pass the librarian’s desk. Outside, the heavy doors closed behind us with a soft boom.
I glanced sideways at Kerralyn. Her knuckles were white around her journal, her mouth pressed tight.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
She forced a smile. “Of course. Perfectly fine.”
We ate dinner together, Trew’s place on the dais noticeably empty. So was Kira’s, but I wasn’t going to speculate about where they might be.
Back in my room after, I went through some moves, though it wasn’t like I needed the exercise. Then I searched the room again, even upending the bed and prying at the floorboards, hoping to find some clue about Addie.
I found nothing.
Slumping on the bed, I tugged Addie’s pendant out from beneath my tunic, exposing it to the light. Since it would fall out, I’d placed the stone in a small pouch and hid it behind books in the case.
I stared at the pendant for a very long time.
This was why I was here. Not him. Not his hands. Not the way my name sounded on his lips.
This. The truth. The mystery. The wrongs done to my sister and every missing girl and boy whose names I hadn’t yet learned. The ache that had hollowed my family from the inside out.
I curled my fingers around the pendant, letting it dig an impression into my palm, holding tight until my knuckles whitened.