Chapter Twenty-Four
“Can I at least get something to clean up—” The tattered cards on the floor rustled ominously. I held up my ink covered hands and backed toward the lobby.
“You don’t have to be so rude,” Delilah said, glowering at the librarian. “We’re here to break the curse, which also benefits the library—”
“Out!” The librarian’s shout lifted the cards into the air once more, and the whole catalog chased us out of the library.
Maximus reached the doors first and held one open, gesturing for us to precede him. Cards that were aimed at him swerved at the last minute, burying themselves in the door or targeting someone else.
One grazed my cheek, cutting a fresh line of blood that instantly filled with ink.
I hissed in pain and slapped my hand against the wound, hoping the pressure would ease the burn.
While I was distracted, my foot caught on an uneven stone and I crashed onto the path, catching myself with one elbow and one hand.
Someone else slammed into me from behind. The added weight pressed me flat to the ground and knocked the wind out of me. I barely felt the additional thump as someone else made the same mistake, creating a pile of disgraced royals.
“What”—the voice chilled the ink and blood coating my skin, raising goosebumps along my flesh—“is going on here?”
With my face pressed against stone and multiple people piled on my back, I couldn’t answer.
Suddenly, the weight eased away, and Delilah cried out as she tumbled onto the front lawn. She rolled over a few times in the overgrown grass before slowing to a stop.
Another weight lifted, and Fitz grunted as he slammed onto the path beside me. His glasses were askew, his eyes dazed. The words had disappeared from his skin though, so he still looked better than he had in the library.
I raised my head to see Wilde standing before me. Anger sharpened his expression until his eyes alone could slit someone’s throat. He crouched and cupped my cheek, staining his pale hand black. “Who did this?” His voice and touch were so soft they disappeared into the night.
“The librarian.” I regretted the words the moment they left my mouth.
His gaze moved to the double doors, closed now, since Maximus had run to help the others to their feet.
I grabbed Wilde’s sleeve, leaving a black handprint on his white shirt. “Wait—”
The doors groaned in protest as vines appeared, squeezing their way into the smallest cracks. The heavy wood trembled as it withstood the attack. They had protected the library from the cursed forest for half a century. Under Wilde’s assault, they buckled and crumpled in ten seconds.
Awe choked off my protest. Until now, I hadn’t seen the extent of Wilde’s magic. The old man couldn’t have taught him this. This wasn’t showmanship or unearned arrogance—it was pure, raw power, creation and destruction at his fingertips.
The librarian stood framed in the broken doorway.
Her form flickered uneasily as she examined the destruction and the mage behind it.
“You—you are not welcome here.” Her words held as little substance as she did.
“Leave.” She raised her hand to enforce her pronouncement, and the catalog cards rose with it.
Before, they’d been a whirlwind, now they were a tentative breeze.
“Don’t presume to command me, ghost. You won’t win this fight.”
The cards yellowed and aged, their edges curling in on each other, disrupting their flight patterns. They collided in midair and burst into clouds of dust.
The librarian appeared in the middle of the cloud, snatching at the particles as if she could gather them all up and fix the destroyed cards. She clutched a handful to her chest and whispered, “I protect the library. They broke the rules, they deserved to be punished.”
At the word ‘punished’, Wilde’s magic thickened the air until it clogged my senses. All I could feel was him. “What right do you have to punish him?”
The mural on the ceiling cracked. Chunks of painted stone crashed to the floor. A large piece passed straight through the librarian. She stared down at it in horror, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Maximus growled and lunged toward Wilde, but I shifted to block him. “Wilde, that’s enough!”
Wilde glanced down, taking in my pose—on my knees, just how he liked, hands reaching out to him in supplication. Instead of the appreciation or desire he’d shown previously, the sight only heightened his anger.
Deeper within the library, the bookshelves on either side of the aisles tipped over. They collided with the shelves behind them and sent those falling as well. The books clattered to the floor, adding to the mess.
“Gods, he’s going to destroy the whole library,” Fitz whispered behind us.
I grabbed the front of Wilde’s gray waistcoat and yanked him down until our faces were only a few inches apart. “I’m fine. Nothing a health potion and a bath won’t fix.” To make sure he listened to me, I said the word he wanted to hear most: “Please.”
The pressure from his magic eased and his gaze softened. “You look awful,” he said, cupping my face in his hands.
A relieved smile twitched over my lips. “Taste awful too, I bet.”
He snorted but refused to take my word for it, pressing his lips to mine. Then his face scrunched up, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed a gag. “You really, really do. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Afraid he meant ‘let me take you back to the master’s lair’, I nodded toward the others.
They huddled together, us against them. Maximus stood at the front of the group, arms outstretched to block everyone else, glaring at Wilde.
Fitz kept looking between Wilde and the library, not sure which was scarier.
Delilah poked her head out from behind Maximus, her furry ears perked in interest.
“There’s an abandoned inn a few blocks away,” Wilde said as he helped me to my feet. His eyes conveyed the silent message: where we were supposed to meet. “You can clean up and rest there.”
Maximus glowered at Wilde. “We’re not going anywhere with you.”
Fitz threaded his fingers through his hair, clutching his head. “All those books …”
I stepped between them and Wilde. “He was trying to help.”
“The librarian had already let us go,” Maximus said. His words simmered with quiet rage. “He didn’t want to help—he wanted to hurt.”
“Like the librarian hurt Fitz?” I snapped. “Oh, that’s right, you didn’t see the words carved from his skin, because you were too busy being her little assistant.”
Shame flushed Maximus’ cheeks, and he glanced at Fitz before muttering an apology.
Fitz shuddered and clamped a hand over his throat. “I won’t lie, I will have nightmares about her for years. But—” he glanced at Wilde, then quickly away “—none of that was necessary. And I don’t know who your master is Will—Wilde? But I don’t think that’s the kind of magic a good wizard teaches.”
I stiffened. Had they finally figured it out?
Once they connected Wilde to the Lord of Grimnight, it’d only be a matter of time before they questioned how we’d met, what we had in common.
“There’s more than just good and evil magic, Fitz.
We’re in the real world now, not your sheltered little kingdoms.”
He frowned and corrected, “Our sheltered little kingdoms. That we’re here to protect, or have you forgotten the reason for this quest?”
“So, what, we can only protect the Desolated Lands with ‘good’ and ‘pure’ methods?”
“Well, yes. Obviously.”
Delilah held my gaze for a second before ducking her head and inching behind Maximus, hiding behind his larger frame.
They didn’t understand. They wouldn’t understand when I finally delivered them to the old man.
Really, I’d known from the beginning that my plan meant betraying them.
But that was before I got to know them. Before I cared about their opinions and how they would view me when this all ended.
It didn’t matter that this was the only way I could save them.
All that mattered to them was if I chose the ‘right’ methods, walked down the ‘good’ path.
A hand slid over my arm, disregarding the ink, unafraid of a little mess. Fingers intertwined with mine and the ink stuck our skin together. If it dried that way, someone would need to rip us apart.
When the quest ended in defeat, the Kingdom Defense Spell failed, and the Desolated Lands fell into the Lord of Grimnight’s hands, I’d lose everything. My home. My fathers. The life I’d lived for the past twelve years. At the end of it all, I would have nothing.
Except, maybe, the person standing beside me. Wilde was the only one who might understand my choices without hating me for their consequences.
“Do what you want,” I told the others. I tightened my hold on Wilde’s hand and tugged him past the library’s gate. “We’ll be at the inn.”